A modern evangelist, Annie basks in Christ’s love and shares it with a simple, winsome touch. A heart overflowing with love is a powerful testimony, I’ve learned.  “We love because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19). Annie’s love spills over, mysteriously opening hearts long shut to God’s mercy and love.

You’ve got to meet her—so I’ll tell you more about her in a second.

First, a confession. Annie’s love humbles me. It’s so natural, immediate, and unselfish that it stops me dead in my tracks. She’s the perfect foil for my easy self-absorption and carefully calibrated giving, because Annie is never calculating. She reaches out, gives, and loves, without measure.

Meet Annie: she’s almost two, with feathery blond hair, the most beautiful blue eyes, and a smile that lights the sky. She knows sign language and loves music. The cherished youngest of ten children, Annie gives hugs all day long. She also has Down Syndrome.

Ok, she’s cute. But an evangelist?

Yes. From the start, her very existence witnessed to the goodness of all life. When a routine sonogram showed “problems” in utero, the obstetricians sent Annie’s mom for a more precise sonogram in another building. Radiology is on the ground floor. When a sonogram confirms a Down Syndrome diagnosis, a mother need only ride the elevator a few floors up for an abortion.

So convenient. That’s the way it is now.

Women don’t want babies like Annie, so they abort them.

Except that Annie’s mom would never consider it. This was her daughter, after all, no matter what.

A few weeks ago, the New York Times published a reaction to new North Dakota legislation, which outlaws abortions sought because of fetal abnormalities (including Down Syndrome). The writer, Alison Piepmeier, a feminist, gender studies professor at the College of Charleston and the mother of a Down Syndrome child, faults the legislation. In her view, women should be allowed to have abortions “for whatever reason they choose.”

Piepmeier’s research on “reproductive decision-making” found that a woman carrying a Down Syndrome baby typically viewed “the fetus” as a child already, sometimes with a name. Piepmeier defends the decisions of women who aborted their Down Syndrome children, noting that those decisions were “incredibly painful.” (Agonizing over a decision seems to confer moral legitimacy, as least in the New York Times.)

The women in Piepmeier’s study denied that they chose abortion because “they wanted a ‘perfect child.’” Their decisions were justified, in Piepmeier’s view, “because they recognized that the world is a difficult place for people with intellectual disabilities.” One mother called her decision “the protective choice” for her baby.

The reigning philosophy seems to be better dead than disabled.

In an unpublished letter to the Times, Annie’s mom, also a professor, rejected Piepmeier’s justifications. “My own experience is that Alison Piepmeier’s pro-choice position is very much an outlier – most parents of Down Syndrome children whom I have met view the eugenic abortion of Down Syndrome children as tragic and shameful.”

Annie’s mom also observed that many women who choose abortion because of a Down Syndrome diagnosis do so out of fear and misinformation. Medical doctors don’t do much to allay those fears—partly because they see mostly gloom and doom statistics. According to the National Down Syndrome Congress, “many obstetricians are inadequately prepared to explain a diagnosis of trisomy 21, often using overtly negative language or out-of-date information.” The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG), for example, targets Down Syndrome (trisomy 21) for routine screening (with termination likely), devaluing the lives of Down Syndrome people and discouraging parents from welcoming them into the family.

What’s to be done?

One of the first press reports after Pope Francis’s election recalled that, as Argentina’s archbishop, he admonished his fellow bishops for their timid, reluctant witness to the Gospel. He said, “Jesus teaches us another way: Go out. Go out and share your testimony, go out and interact with your brothers, go out and share, go out and ask. Become the word in body as well as spirit.”

That’s Annie–the word in body as well as in spirit.

Annie evangelizes wherever she goes, always on-message. Six months ago, she captivated a room full of med students who had gathered to hear how Annie’s mom “coped” with the “burdens” of her Down Syndrome child. After all, Annie’s medical trail was significant, her individuality buried under a litany of diagnoses. To their surprise, these students met a delightful little girl with a “match me” smile.  They learned of her fiercely protective father and retinue of devoted siblings, all of whom delight in teaching, cuddling, feeding, diapering, and—best of all—playing with her. They listened to Annie’s feisty mom and heard, in her infectious laugh and passionate voice, great hope for her daughter’s future. Surely some of these doctors embraced the “good news” about children like Annie.

That’s one of the things Annie does best—spread the good news. Last weekend, she charmed two hundred people at an elegant dinner. Though a guest, she provided delightful, spontaneous entertainment, dancing with her cousins and brothers. Day by day, she stirs the hearts of ordinary people in chance encounters—in the produce aisle at the grocery store, at the snack bar during a local basketball game, and in smiles exchanged during Mass.

She’s cute, not scary. She’s lovable and loving. And she has that mysterious power to stir love in the souls of others, sometimes even in spite of themselves.

She’s “Annie,” not a dreaded Down Syndrome kid. Her life has value, and she’ll wrap you in love if you give her a chance.

That’s our Annie…the smiling evangelist.

Copyright 2013 Mary Hasson

Nick Vogt’s alive

It’s a dramatic story of heart-stopping injuries and inexplicable survival—and a simultaneous testimony of tenacious faith and the power of prayer. Nick’s horrendous suffering touched the hearts of his hometown community, the far-flung military family, and Catholics everywhere. And the mysterious interplay between setbacks and miraculous interventions has swelled the ranks of spiritual warriors praying on Nick’s behalf, all around the globe.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let me tell you about Nick.

A handsome, athletic young man, Nick turned 24 on December 13^th. He has the lean muscles of a runner and the kind eyes of a big brother—his four younger siblings think he’s “one of the most amazing human beings” ever. One of those rare people liked by everyone, Nick reflects his parents’ strong values of family and faith. Devout Catholics, Nick’s parents–Steve and Sheila–wove faith into the normal fabric of life: a crucifix in every room, nightly prayers together at bedtime, and grace before meals. “God has been a part of our everyday life since day one,” says Olivia, Nick’s 22-year-old sister. And He remains so, now more than ever.

One month ago, the young lieutenant with the strong jaw and easy grin led his platoon on patrol in a still-dangerous corner of Afghanistan. It was a mission cut short. Nick stepped on a pressure-triggered explosive device (IED) hidden in the dirt beneath his feet. The lethal trap—purposely set for American soldiers–exploded under Nick, tore off his legs, and left his life hanging in the balance.

Nick should be dead, the doctors told his family later, if not from the explosion then from the precarious surgeries that followed. He suffered such severe wounds that his heart stopped several times as doctors operated to stanch the massive bleeding.

Medicine rejoices in miracles, but doesn’t expect them.

Believers do.

Jesus promised that, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matt. 6:8). And Scripture says, “For God nothing will be impossible.” (Luke 1:37).

Even as his family sent that first urgent message–begging for prayers for Nick–to friends, parishioners, and neighbors in Bethlehem, Ohio, God surrounded Nick with exactly the people he needed.

A skilled medic, Spc. Thomas Underhill, saved Nick’s life in the intense aftermath of the blast. The military surgeons in Afghanistan, forced to amputate the torn limbs, fought tirelessly to stabilize Nick as he continued losing blood. Soldiers on base, responding to an emergency midnight appeal, sprinted over to give blood for Nick. The urgency of saving one of their own overcame their exhaustion, and the line of war-weary soldiers stretched a city block. (Before leaving the war zone, Nick needed 400 units of blood, 100 more followed later– the highest total of any wartime patient.)

Miraculously, Nick survived.

Parents will tell you that the thought of a son or daughter suffering alone is almost unbearable. The planes fly too slowly, the miles stretch too far, and the war zone delays their bedside vigil. But while Nick lay unconscious in critical care, God was there. According to his sister Olivia, “Soldiers who did not even know Nick would sit with him for hours just holding his hand …just so he wasn’t alone. All for my brother who had been there not even 3 months… The amount of love from his and other soldiers there was unbelievable.” Nick needed comfort; bonded by war, his brothers in combat took turns by his side. The faith of his family and the prayers from back home brought angels to keep watch.

As people prayed, God answered again and again, in awesome power and love. In the days just after the explosion, Nick needed repeated surgeries. His sister Olivia said. “Every doctor…said he should not be alive after all he went through.” But God was not ready to call Nick home.

In fact, Olivia says, Nick’s dad jokes that Nick himself must have insisted on more time. As an officer fiercely protective of his men, Nick “was famous for going up the ladder of superiors until he got the answer he wanted.” It’s not hard to imagine that “when his heart stopped in the operating room, Nick must have gone straight to the top and respectfully asked God, ‘With all due respect, Sir, I’m not done down there, so could you please send me back?’”

Nick is back—resilient Nick, powered by a loving heart, a tenacious will, and the vigilant prayers of hundreds, even thousands, of people he’s never met.

Last week, Sheila Vogt posted this glimpse of Nick’s indomitable spirit: “He has a big day in the OR today. He was ‘chomping at the bit’ to get in there and just kept looking at the surgeon teams coming in his room and mouthing the words, ‘Let’s do it.’ Even as injured as he is, he still seems to be the Nick we all know and love.” Thumbs up, powering through the pain, determined to do what it takes– that’s Nick.

Never afraid of hard work, Nick excelled in school, sports, and the Army, always doing more than was asked. Why serve? Because it was his dream, his calling: “When he was six years old he wanted his first flat top hair cut,” said Olivia, “He had already decided he wanted to be in the army.  From that point on he never second-guessed that.”

As his West Point years drew to a close, Nick mulled over the next step: medical school or deployment. He opted to postpone medical school—for the sake of his future patients. He told his mom that he’d go to war first, so that when he treated wounded warriors in the future, he would know first-hand what they had faced.

In God’s plan, there is no “what if?” He knows the “why?” and the “what comes next?” What we know is that God’s promise endures: He “works all things to the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.” (Rom. 8:28). God’s got a mighty plan for this selfless young soldier.

Our culture blindly denies the value of life “burdened” by imperfection, disability, or suffering. But that’s not how his family sees it. They see the son and brother they love and for whose life they are profoundly grateful.

The Bible says, “give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thess. 5:18) No easy task for us mortals; it requires divine perspective. In the midst of their grief and worry for Nick, his mom and dad gave thanks to God for the greatest gift—Nick’s life. In a Thanksgiving Day post, Sheila wrote, “Steve and I went to Thanksgiving Mass today in the hospital chapel. Our prayers of thanks this year have…a much more powerful sincereness. God has blessed us with a most ultimate gift – some more time with Nick.”

Nick’s life truly is a gift for others. When the time is right, I hope Nick discovers…

–The spiritual fervor he’s inspired every day since his injury. Countless adults, children, and peers hit their knees every day to pray for him. Even people who haven’t prayed much over the years hear Nick’s story and reach out again to their Father in heaven. “God, Please heal Nick. Guide his doctors, comfort his siblings, and strengthen his parents. We’re looking for miracles, Lord.” If only our lives drew others towards Christ with the same intensity.

–The gift of joy he gives his parents, doctors, and siblings each time he smiles, signals thumbs up, or delights in a favorite song. It’s a gift multiplied and received by hundreds who check on him daily through Facebook, receive emails from the incredible network of military families, and read the posts on his parish’s website. I wonder, do the rest of us give others such pure joy?

–The seeds of humble trust planted in the hearts of many, as God answers their prayers for Nick. On Dec. 7^th, Nick’s dad wrote: “Nick`s recovery has gotten more difficult. …It turns out that a blood clot had formed in his brain … He went into emergency surgery last night and the clot was removed. This latest injury had me praying hard for Nick and to give us strength against falling into despair. Within an hour of my prayer for strength we had a visitor, a friend of Nick`s who happened to be here for other business. [He] had this type of injury a while back and looks great. My prayer was answered again. I now see that this injury can also be overcome. Thanks for your support and please continue your prayers.” Would that we all trusted in God’s strength, not our own.

–His impact on his siblings’ faith. In the midst of her family’s suffering, Nick’s sister Olivia said, “In a situation like this it is easy to blame God and ask why did it have to happen to such a good person? If anything, this has brought us closer to God. We’ve seen miracles lately happening to Nick. When doctors themselves say he should not be alive, there is a reason he is. And our family and friends believe it’s because of prayer…. For any one who has, is, or will go through this, you have to learn to trust in God and in prayer.” In pain? Trust God.  Turn to Him.

—The inexpressible significance of his love. Nick awoke ten days after the explosion, the doctors stabilized him, and the military flew him and his parents to the U.S. for the next phase of treatment. Unable to talk, Nick looked at his parents next to him on the plane and mouthed to them the only words that mattered. “I love you guys!” Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Cor. 13:7). Lord, help us love like that!

To those of you just learning about Nick, Olivia says, “My family first and foremost would ask for prayers from people. They’ve got us so far already but he has a very long way to go.”

Nick faces the constant threat of deadly infection and many months of intensive rehabilitation. His family’s journey will continue on its wild ride–the ordinary, the tragic, and the miraculous—but it’s a journey they won’t make alone.

Moved by the urgency of Nick’s daily struggle, thousands of people will walk and talk with God more deeply today. They will thank God for the gift of life—no matter how broken and vulnerable—and beg mercy, healing, and strength for Nick, his family, and our military.

And you…will you pray too?

Will you share his story with friends, so they will pray too?

It’s a small–but powerfully big–way to say thanks.

Financial support for wounded soldiers can be sent to Fisher House or the Wounded Warrior Project.  Donations to support Nick’s recovery can be sent to: Lieutenant Nicholas Vogt Hope Fund
c/o Sacred Heart of Jesus Church
5742 State Route 61 South,
Shelby, Ohio 44875

And it’s even harder to impress a sixteen-year-old boy with a Sunday homily.

But on a recent Sunday, a priest at our parish (we’ll call him “Fr. Joe”) did just that.

“Hey, you know that visiting priest, mom?  He was on fire. It was like one of those old fire and brimstone deals. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Neither, apparently, had most of the other teens in the Church.  Or even most of the adults, most likely.

His topic?

Pop culture…and its brazen efforts to normalize sexual perversity. Not an easy topic on which to engage teenagers positively and persuasively.

Teens too easily put on mental headphones and tune out “predictable” grown ups. “Yeah, yeah.  Back in the day…lecture 192.” Besides haven’t adults always complained about rock-n-roll, teen culture, fashions, and the like? It’s just a generational thing.

But when a priest grabs their attention, keeps them listening—and gives them something meaty to take home and chew on–it’s worth noticing what works.

So what went right?

For starters, Fr. Joe got their attention. He didn’t glide gently into his topic. He fairly roared. He spoke passionately, compelling attention by the volume and certitude in his voice. His voice conveyed the unspoken message: ‘Listen up. This is important. The stakes are high: your soul and our culture hang in the balance.’

Father Joe wasn’t angry and out of control.  But he was vehement, concerned, and loud. Troubled about the likely future of our culture, he insisted that his listeners respond, in their own lives, to what he was saying.

Look at it this way:  kids understand passion. Celebrities, teachers, coaches, and websites encourage our teens to discover their passion and pursue it, to find what matters to them, and to be a voice for it. But if a priest or youth leader addresses sexual morality or serious cultural problems with the same bland tone of the weekly “doughnuts-and-coffee-in-the-parish-hall-after-all-Masses” announcement, few teens will listen.

And why should they?  The speaker’s tone of voice implicitly says, “I know you’re not listening but, bear with me, I’m required to say this.”

Hardly a way to inspire teens to risk their popularity, face humiliation, or endure rejection because they stand up for truth.

A priest who roars, on the other hand, gets their attention.  Don’t cringe. I’m not advocating a weekly rant or ear-splitting homilies.  But our teachers, pastors, and ministers need to command attention and one way to do that is to let loose with the change-up pitch.  Be unpredictable. A dropped voice, a whispering tone, or compelling rhetoric does the trick too.

What else worked about Fr. Joe’s homily?

He used specific words, pointed criticisms, and concrete analogies. Gay marriage?  It’s like Grape Nuts: neither grape nor nuts. Gay marriage isn’t “gay”—the homosexual lifestyle teems with unhappiness, depression, disease, and substance abuse. And it isn’t “marriage” either. Marriage has a centuries old meaning that cannot be changed by popular vote—it requires the faithful sexual intimacy of a man and woman, united permanently to parent the children born of their intimacy. Two women and a turkey baster (or two guys and a rented womb) can’t compare.

Dozens of times a day, the culture pulses seductive, destructive messages to our kids—through music, videos, websites, peer conversations, the media and our schools.  (Read Mary Beth Hicks’ excellent new book Don’t Let the Kids Drink the Kool-Aid, and you’ll see the problem.)

Teens need us to respect them enough to provide reasons why certain acts are immoral.  Forget the euphemisms. Give them the words to defend traditional morality and provide the examples that challenge the lies behind accepted cultural ‘wisdom.’ If we want our teens to rebuff the culture’s assault on morality, then we need to tackle the other side’s arguments head on. Where else will our teens hear the truth, if not from their families and the Church?

Kudos to Fr. Joe for tackling tough subjects, with passion, clarity, and certitude.

I hope there’s more where that came from—in your parish and mine–for the sake of all our kids.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

More than a Facebook relationship status, “it’s complicated” sums up the ambiguity, fluidity, and contradictions experienced by “emerging adults” in America – at least when it comes to sex and relationships.

What’s simple are the numbers: 84% of unmarried, heterosexual, emerging adults (ages 18-23) in America have had sex—a number that cuts a wide swath across religious denominations, political leanings, family backgrounds, education levels and geographic regions.

But what does it mean? In their outstanding new book, Premarital Sex in America: How Young Americans Meet, Mate, and Think about Marrying, Mark Regnerus and Jeremy Uecker provide some answers.

Using data from four major studies plus hundreds of personal interviews, the authors unfold the sexual patterns and perspectives of America’s unmarried young adults.

It’s a troubling story, rife with contradictions. And unless something changes, the present behavior of the majority of emerging adults may sabotage, rather than secure, their aspirations for future happiness, marriage and parenthood. That’s especially so for women.

The Sexual Landscape: Couple, De-couple, Repeat

Regnerus and Uecker quickly dispel the Guttmacher notion that there’s nothing new in today’s patterns of premarital sex. (In 2006, the Guttmacher Institute published a study claiming that premarital sex is “near universal” and was so even for our grandparents.) Yesterday’s premarital sex was generally “pre-marital”—sex before marriage between two people who did, in fact, get married to each other.

Today’s premarital sex is typically not pre-marital and may occur pre-relationship or with no-relationship. It almost certainly occurs with a succession of partners, well before marriage enters the picture.

The first few chapters of Premarital Sex provide a candid snapshot of the sexual behaviors of emerging adults—who, what, when and how often. The picture conveys a timeless truth: women are the “gatekeepers” in sexual matters. Men generally want sex far earlier in relationships than do women, so sex begins when women are willing.

But sexual decision-making, the authors contend, occurs not in the “simple arena of conscious choice,” but in the context of two highly influential factors: “sexual scripts” and the sexual marketplace.

The overall sexual ‘economy’ of today creates a transactional environment that favors men. Women, especially well-educated women, outnumber their male counterparts in settings that create pools of unmarried, emerging adults—college, for example.

Gender imbalance drives down the ‘price’ of sex. Women ‘compete’ for men who typically want sex earlier and more often than women do. And the willingness of substantial numbers of women to provide sex in exchange for minimal commitment changes the sexual economy for all women. As a result, the authors say, “[Y]oung women often feel like they have to bargain sex for relational stability.”

In addition, a variety of ‘sexual scripts’ heavily influence the choices young adults make. What’s a sexual script? It’s a narrative proposed by peers, parents, media, faith, politics, or others that indicates how sexual relationships should unfold.  It defines what’s “normal” and what’s not, as well as the expected timing and commitment levels (if any). Often implicit, these scripts strongly influence the sexual decisions of young adults, even when those scripts run counter to the individual’s professed values.

So that’s the theory, but what does it mean in terms of actual sexual behaviors and attitudes? In Chapter 3, one of the most valuable chapters in the book, the authors take us “Inside Sexual Relationships” and unpack the ways that emerging adults begin, conduct, and end relationships.

Although 92% of emerging adults claim they want love and romance to precede sexual involvement in a relationship, a substantial number nevertheless pursue sex simply for the sake of sex. Young men report that 29% of their sexual partners were “non-romantic” liaisons, while 18% of women’s encounters are strictly sexual. (Women may be more likely to perceive sex as a romantic encounter – a perception not always shared by their partners.) Two-thirds of “non-romantic” sexual relationships end within a month.

Stories about young people “hooking up” for sexual encounters – not necessarily intercourse – magnify the frequency and extent of this practice, particularly on college campuses. Reality matches the sensational headlines most typically among young adults who don’t attend college or in fraternity circles at elite, private universities.

Most young people have sex in the context of a relationship – but fairly early on. Just over one-third (36%) of males have sex about two weeks into a relationship and 70% of them have had sex by the six-month mark. Women take a bit longer, but not much: 22% have had sex within two weeks after a new relationship begins and 61% of them say their relationships are sexual by six months.

Porn is a staple on the sexual menu: nearly seven in 10 young men, and half of young women, say it’s acceptable. Not surprisingly, porn fuels the desire for sexual novelty, particularly anal sex. The authors report a disturbing fact: although women overwhelmingly dislike anal sex, nearly half of all women who’ve tried it – and dislike it – plan to do it again in order to appease their (probably temporary) boyfriends. While women possess the power to be sexual gatekeepers, many seem reluctant to exercise it. The risk of breaking up seems too high.

Indeed, relationships are stunningly short. Young adults report that 14% of their past romantic relationships were over and done within a month (shades of high school), over half ended by six months, and just 24% made it to the one-year mark.

It adds up to the new relationship paradigm: serial monogamy, i.e. one partner at a time (keep your total private, please). Exclusivity within the relationship matters greatly to this cohort, at least for now.  While they generally hold non-judgmental perspectives on their peers’ sexual behaviors, cheating draws consistent condemnation. (Skeptics may wonder whether a sequence of short, minimal-commitment sexual relationships can build the habits needed to honor a lifetime vow of fidelity.)

So how well does serial monogamy fulfill the expectations of young adults? The authors’ data reinforces an idea that feminists have long resisted: men and women perceive their sexual encounters differently. Women are much more likely to express sexual regret and, for women, “sex is largely unwanted apart from an emotional connection.“ This raises its own question: what’s the emotional impact on women when they repeatedly make – and break – intimate emotional connections?

In Chapter Five, “No Strings Attached? Sex and Emotional Health,” Regnerus and Uecker offer convincing data and a cogent analysis of how sex, break-ups, abuse, and abortion affect men and women emotionally. The bottom line: women are much more likely than men to experience diminished emotional health because of their past sexual relationships.

Further, the more “lifetime partners” a woman has, the more likely she is to be depressed and show signs of poor emotional health. Not so for men.

The authors conclude that, “a sustained pattern of serial monogamy – implying a series of failed relationships – hurts women far more than it hurts men.”

Women, however, often fail to recognize the damage done – to emotional health or their aspirations for real, meaningful commitment. On the contrary, many young women believe that sex will spur greater commitment from a partner. Instead, sex generally destabilizes those relationships, producing uncertainty, insecurity, and even less commitment.

And while emerging adults envision marriage on the far horizon, across the wide ocean of sexual experimentation, travel, education, cohabitation and financial stability, it’s not yet clear how a decade (or more) of practicing sex without commitment will affect their success in marrying, and staying married.

In their final chapter, “The Power of Stories and Ten Myths about Sex in Emerging Adulthood,” Regnerus and Uecker sound a cautionary note. They list 10 myths generated by the most popular scripts – myths that many of our young people hold as gospel truth. (Readers who want a quick way to cull the most important points from the book’s extensive data might want to begin with these 10 myths.)

My only criticism with this excellent work is the authors’ failure to mention the influence of Planned Parenthood, the abortion lobby, and the reproductive rights movement in marketing the master narrative of sex disconnected from love, marriage, fidelity, and children. The authors note that peers, parents, and media are the top transmitters of sexual scripts.  True enough.  But the scripts they transmit don’t emerge from thin air—they reflect the values and messages crafted and promoted to benefit the ‘reproductive rights’ industry, which has spawned our present culture of death.

Still, I consider this book an indispensable resource. Excellent depth. Striking clarity. Premarital Sex in America: How Young Americans Meet, Mate, and Think about Marrying is a must read for anyone who cares about the future of marriage and the well-being of the next generation.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

Today’s top artists (to use the term loosely) are a disturbing lot.

I spent some stomach-churning hours with quite a few of them this week.  A writing project sent me to Billboard’s Hot 100 songs and, from there, to song lyrics and official music videos, artists’ websites, and entertainment reviews of the top 20 “Hot” songs.

You’ve probably heard the songs–in commercial soundtracks, advertising, and in the background of NBA games.  It’s the music flowing through ear buds and pounding obnoxiously from the car that pulls up next to you at a stoplight. Video versions abound on YouTube and ricochet from one smartphone to another, linked through Facebook and emails.

Popular music is everywhere, reaching huge numbers of young people. Chart-toppers often notch more than 15 million views on YouTube in a matter of months; Lady Gaga’s latest album sold 1.1 million copies the first week of its release. And as musical celebrities crossover into fashion, perfume, and accessories, their impact multiplies.

The music’s reach is impressive. But its power to shape the way a generation thinks about sex and personal relationships reflects more than reach.

It reflects the terribly seductive—and damaging–nature of the music’s message.

Music and music videos are everywhere–the mall, gas stations, restaurants. The messages pulse insistently through the culture, wherever there’s a computer, TV, iPod, or phone. Our children need protection from the truly depraved stuff that’s out there. And they need guidance to see the meaning and consequences of the music industry’s distorted messages.

So what should parents know?

First, that the overriding industry push is “sex,” but not sex as we know it.

In today’s entertainment, sex is not the melting embrace of two lovers, forever sharing their hearts, lives, and selves. It’s not even ordinary lust.

It’s lust on steroids, and it’s raging.

The new sexual norm, messaged in music and video, is sex as a personal entitlement.  Instead of connecting two persons in mutual, fruitful, and self-giving love, sex is a solo act.

The narcissist takes center stage, gratifying him or herself sexually with any number or combination of males, females, and even animals. Nothing’s “perverted” anymore, because sex is just a thing you do to feel good. So if you “wanna,” then do anything you wanna.

Teens immersed in the music culture sit for a daily tutorial—through lyrics and images—in narcissistic, abusive relationships.

For boys, the sexual script is self-obsessed, aggressive, impersonal and demanding. It throbs with lust, contempt, and, often, sheer brutality.  No love, tenderness, or kindness in sight. Women—whether flesh and blood, or virtual on the pornographic screen, serve male pleasure.

The model for girls is no better. How to relate to men? Taunt, flaunt, and spar. Physical aggression—often girl-initiated–only ups the sexual tension. Pain tangles with desire, retaliation, and sexual conquest. The big lie: a sex object is “wanted,” so sex means power. (Just ignore that humiliating feeling.)

In the first 20 songs (and accompanying videos) of the “Hot 100,” the message of narcissistic sex was nearly universal; personal love nearly absent. (A meager few, typically country songs, crack the charts with old-fashioned tales of romance and heartbreak).

The damaging message: sex is totally disconnected from love for a particular person. Love is worse than optional, it gets in the way. Love creates expectations of caring and commitment–incompatible with narcissistic sex.

So that’s where the music industry’s message begins, by glorifying narcissistic sex. But where it leads is worse. Many of pop culture’s top artists have traveled the road from perverted sex to misogynist, sexualized violence. No surprise, really. Stripped of its life-giving potential, sex that rejects love eventually becomes intertwined with death, inextricably so.

Need examples? Here’s what climbed out of the musical sewer lately:

Kanye West, hip hop star, rapper, and self-styled culture hound, released a new music video of his hit song, “Monster.” Critics describe it as “racy.”

Funny word choice, “racy.” When I was a kid, “racy” meant abundant cleavage and flirtatious dialogue.  And my dad would flip the TV channel.

In today’s musical climate, “racy” means hanging half-naked, apparently dead women from the ceiling, nooses around their necks. “Racy” means two lingerie-clad women in bed, dead, but still fondled and arranged into a sexually perverse threesome by rapper Kanye.

Filled with nudity, blood, and dead women, the video carries West’s lame disclaimer: “The following content is in no way to be interpreted as misogynistic or negative towards any groups of people. It is an art piece and it shall be taken as such.”

West’s perverse celebration of death is well-matched by superstar Rihanna. Fresh on the heels of her album S & M (avoid the video), Rihanna’s newest single, Man Down, delivers murderous revenge. Her video opens as Rihanna shoots a man in cold blood. We watch him fall and bleed all over the sidewalk. Then the backstory begins: sexy, flirty Rihanna teases dozens of men, dancing and seducing. Until she’s raped and gets revenge.

And then, of course, there’s Lady Gaga. Superstar, supposed fashion icon, and former Catholic schoolgirl, Lady Gaga flashes demonic in the cover art of her new release, “Born this Way.” The album celebrates gay, bisexual, and transgendered sex and twists religious imagery into blasphemy, just as her earlier albums and videos did. Her work betrays fascination with death. And her unfortunate genius lies in an uncanny ability to connect with millions of fans, seducing them to travel with her to the dark “Edge of Glory.”

The music industry is “on message,” without a doubt. Sex is a solo act—enjoy it whatever way you want. It’s a message that ushers in sexual perversion, violence, and death. And it’s dominating the culture.

Sheer repetition magnifies the intensity of the message. In my work, I “sample” popular music periodically, but certainly not every day or for hours at a time. Adolescents don’t sample one song every few weeks. They do listen for hours, one song after another. Multiply that by days, months, and even years. The potential impact is huge.

Feeling overwhelmed?  You’re not alone.

What to do?  Start Local.  Check your children’s iPods and computer playlists. Delete offending artists and explain why. It’s not “spying,” it’s parenting.  Kids, by definition, don’t have the judgment of an adult. Good kids listen to bad songs because of peer pressure, ignorance, or, more often, because they underestimate the impact it will have on them.  “I don’t listen to the lyrics.”  “I like the music and I’m not going to do any of that stuff.” They need our wisdom.

Know the landscape. I find it easiest to rule some singers off limits, no matter what they sing. If Adolf Hitler recorded the best version ever of “Happy Birthday,” we wouldn’t buy it. The same with Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Kanye West, Britney Spears, and others. Similarly, music videos and certain radio stations are out (the deejays’ banter reinforces the worst messages).

Recommendations from others are helpful, especially when you’re beleaguered or time-pressed, but at some point you have to do your own homework. Google is a parent’s best friend. Google the song name, or even a phrase from the song, plus the word “lyrics” and you’ll have song lyrics in 3 seconds flat. Check the music video too. (Google the song, plus “video,” or go directly to YouTube.) For the panoramic view of what’s out there, go to Billboard and scan the Hot 100 songs.

Finally, remember to deliver the right messages, with love and conviction. Share the truth–the good news about sex, love, and relationships–frequently and honestly. Our children will respond to messages of love, respect, faithfulness and self-control, if they hear them—and that’s our responsibility.

No matter what the music industry says, the truth is that every human heart yearns—not for narcissistic, violent sex—but for joy of real love.
© 2011 Mary Rice Hasso

The loss of a beloved friend, without warning, rips a gaping hole in the memory-rich fabric of life.

Mary Murphy Hamann, my college roommate, longtime friend, and one of the most cheerful people I’ve ever met, died on Good Friday in a remote village in Paraguay.

Her plan? To attend her daughter’s wedding there and meet the Paraguayan in-laws. But God planned otherwise.  Mary hemorrhaged unexpectedly from a hidden, life-threatening tumor, just one day before her daughter’s wedding.

Nothing could have saved her. Even if she’d been stateside, the end result would have been the same.  Her close-knit family–husband, four adult children, seven surviving siblings, in-laws, and dozens of nieces and nephews–reeled from the blow, in shock and grief.

But the days that followed found them steadied by the mercy of God’s grace and the hope born of faith.

It was her time.

I remember once, thirty years earlier, when Mary told me, “It’s time.”

Only then it was “time” to marry her high school sweetheart, Mike—a decision that seemed as ill-timed (to others) as her death now thirty years later.

Just 19 when Mike slipped the engagement ring on her finger, Mary married at 20. No shotguns involved, just a young couple in love and ready to team up for life. “He’s the one,” Mary told me, “It’s time.”

So she married and left school, taking a job that would support them both while Mike spent his last two years at Notre Dame.

The young feminists in our dorm sizzled with outrage. Clearly appalled, one driven engineer-to-be expressed her indignation—on Mary’s behalf–to me. “She’s got a 3.9! Why is she leaving school?  Why doesn’t he leave school so she can finish?”

Mary’s decision made no sense to the career-oriented, high-achievers of the 80’s. Forget the balancing act. Marriage and motherhood were obstacles to career success.

Some imagined a he-versus-she wrestling match over dominance and ambition, with Mary finally yielding.  Others carped that Mary’s conservative beliefs and traditional Catholicism must be at fault. “What a waste.” They lamented their friend’s all-but-certain future: talents undeveloped and opportunities lost, all sacrificed at the altar of marriage and motherhood.

Poor Mary.

“Poor Mary” never looked back.  Her sureness emerged from a prayerful heart intent on one question: ”What is the Lord’s will for me?”

The answer didn’t come instantly. She prayed for months, her rosary often slipping from her sleeping hand, down from her top bunk onto mine below. The Lourdes Grotto at Notre Dame held dozens of candle stubs lit by a young woman in search of God’s will. And her commitment to daily Mass—at noon or 5 pm—often meant the ultimate sacrifice for a college student: settling for the dregs of cafeteria food. Limp lettuce and rubbery burgers, at best. (One long-winded homily and she’d miss the meal entirely!)

God must have been tickled to see a young heart madly in love, but so willing to ask what He wanted. And Mary delighted in His answer—yes, marry Mike.

It was time.

More importantly, her question, “What’s your will for me, Lord?” wasn’t a one-timer.  It was the recurring theme of her life. (Mike’s life too, for that matter.)

And indeed, it’s interesting how life turned out.

Mary’s first job gave way to full-time motherhood, with one girl and three boys in quick succession. Unfazed by muddy feet and shoes gone AWOL, Mary’s contagious laughter bubbled over in daily life. As her peers got big jobs and even bigger signing bonuses, Mary changed diapers, hugged toddlers, and shrugged off thoughts of what-might-have-been.

Then, supplementing Mike’s teaching job, she resumed part-time work, often from home, with stints in copywriting, advertising, and political campaigns. In short order, resourcefulness paired with economic necessity and gave birth to a successful family business in marketing and communications.

Funny how God works.  As Mary followed the thread of God’s will, woven among family needs and life’s opportunities, her creative talents flourished, her professional skills sharpened, and her entrepreneurial spirit grew. She picked up the classes she needed, then came full circle, landing back at Notre Dame in a job she loved—Director of Communications in the Mendoza College of Business. For ten years, as her children moved into adulthood, she edited an award-winning magazine and played a central role in her husband’s successful entre into politics.

Even by feminist standards, it was a quality resume for a mom of four.

But her accomplishments aren’t the real story.

When Mary died, God didn’t read her obituary.  He read her heart.

That’s the story too easily missed. Her heart had grown more in love with Him over the years, not by adding up achievements but by asking that question, “What’s your will for me, Lord?”

It’s a question that I, for one, ought to ask more often.

Because that simple question—“What’s your will for me, Lord?”—purifies the heart. And our sincere (though surely imperfect) response to that question, over and over, defines a life well lived.

In hindsight, Mary’s life was not only well lived, but perfectly timed.

And so was her death. It was her time, because it was God’s time.  It’s the only way Mary would have wanted it.

Editor’s Note: We invite those who would like to make a donation in honor of Mary’s life to support Women’s Care Center (a pro-life crisis pregnancy center) or  the Paraguay Country Fund. LMH

© 2011  Mary Rice Hasson

Is it just gossip, gone digital? “Mean Girls,” with a sexual twist?

I don’t think so.

Some commentators too easily dump these incidents into the overflowing bucket of cyber-bullying or dismiss them as teen-age drama, writ large. But these episodes deserve a second look.

A few months back, a Washington state eighth-grader named Margarite “sexted” a nude, frontal photo of herself to her new sort-of-boyfriend. Within weeks, their fledgling relationship died.

The photo lived on.

The boy sent it to another girl who captioned the photo, “Ho Alert!” and added instructions: “If you think this girl is a whore, then text this to all your friends.” The photo instantly ricocheted, via text, from one social circle to another. Within hours, students from four different schools had ogled the sexter’s naked body and passed the photo on. The eighth grade girl was devastated.

The second situation occurred in the upscale suburbs of New York City. Someone created rankings of 100 allegedly sexually adventurous girls and boys from the surrounding school districts and circulated the lists using Blackberry Messenger.

One teenager (who claims he was not the original creator of the lists) quickly created a Facebook page called the “Westchester SMUT List” (“SMUT” meant “slut,” thinly disguised to evade Facebook restrictions), and posted only the girls’ rankings (including full names and descriptions of sexual activity).

Within hours, thousands of people saw the list. Over 7,000 of them “liked” the Facebook page that trashed the girls’ reputations.  And with one click, each of those viewers magnified the damage, publicizing the page instantly to his or her Facebook friends.

The sexual behavior of the 8^th-grader and of the SMUT 100 (to the extent the reports are true) reads like an MTV script. And that’s certainly a huge problem.

But let’s switch focus, for a minute, from the girls to their enthusiastic “audience” of thousands. Their behavior may well reflect the bigger problem.

Consider the smut list. What does it mean when thousands of young people swarm, within hours, to the site of their peers’ humiliation? (Imagine piranhas in a feeding frenzy.)

And what drove seven thousand of them to click the “like” icon on the smut list?

Meanness, maybe. But narcissism is a likely suspect, too.

The Facebook generation shows an overwhelming desire for self-promotion, to weigh in, to be in the know. Want to be important? Dispense scandalous information.

The teens who “liked” the list not only didn’t care that others knew they’d seen the list and passed it on, they wanted others to know that they’d done so. Being among “the first to know” matters too. It’s a sure way to build social capital—be the source that sends others to the newest, most outrageous virtual place.

No shame, no hesitation, no reticence. In their narcissistic stampede towards Facebook fame and “firsts,” thousands trampled on the dignity and reputations of very real people. And they didn’t even care.

Why? Because, in a given moment, narcissism blots out both moral sense (do their consciences even register slander? detraction? cruelty?) and a sense of empathy.

(Many ethicists believe that empathy is at the heart of morality.)

An empathic person in this case would grasp the pain, shame, and humiliation experienced by the girls on the list—and would never add to their misery by passing the information on, especially because it might be false. A narcissistic person would seize any opportunity, including the humiliation of others, to vault back into the center of attention.

Narcissism gave a good showing at the Westchester Smut List.

There’s a second factor at work here as well.

In today’s culture, sex is entertainment.  It doesn’t need to be either personal or intimate—a lesson the Facebook generation has learned well.

It’s not surprising, then, that these young people easily accept the idea that women are sexual objects. Depersonalized sex is everywhere, in ads, music videos, TV, movies, teen websites, and, of course, pornography. Immersed in it, they can’t help but be shaped by it as well.

Take, for example, the teens recently interviewed by The New York Times on the topic of sexting. For this sex-saturated generation, sexy photos become a strikingly impersonal part of the mating dance.

One girl puts it this way: “We see virtual images all day long, so if someone sends you a [naked] image, it loses the identity of the person. It’s just a picture.” A teen-age boy in the group added helpfully, “And usually the face is not in it.“

It’s the very definition of depersonalized sex: the most “personal” aspect, a face, is out of sight. But the naked body still titillates and makes the rounds, by cell phone and text.

And even when the photo does include the person’s face—as it did in Margarite’s case—her peers had already lost sight of the real person who would be mortified, shamed, and crushed with regret as they passed her picture along. She was just a body, grabbed, groped, and used as an object for pleasure (or humiliation) in the virtual space. Her reputation became a plaything as well.

Similarly, a teenage girl on a smut list is but a name—no one cares about her.  They care only to know what she’s willing to do with her body–or at least what others say she’s willing to do.

What’s missing is any sense that these girls are persons, not sexual objects. And what’s lost, among other things, is the privacy and space that would allow these adolescents to mature, repent, change course and begin anew. Instead, they’ve been humiliated on a grand scale, and will be haunted by the exposure for years.

On the plus side, at least the girls know they’ve gotten off track and need to change.

But their peers—the thousands steeped in depersonalized sex and searching for the next narcissistic shot at popularity—they have no idea how far off track they are.

And the real question for our culture is…What are we going to do about that?

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

One conversation a few weeks ago sent chills up her spine.

“How’s your Grandpa doing?”  Marci asked Trey, an occasional rider.

Trey’s Grandpa had been in the hospital, a few states away, for two months after suffering a systemic infection that left him weak and unable to breathe on his own.  Trey’s aunts and uncles had been taking turns visiting, flying down to spend time with him and watch over his care.

“Well, not so good,” said Trey.

And then, in a matter-of-fact tone, he added, “But they stopped feeding him last week. The doctor said now he’ll die naturally, on his own, sometime this week.”

Marci’s jaw dropped.  She didn’t know what to say. Trey’s parents were nice people, not attached to any particular faith, but trying to raise good kids.  And yet here was Trey nonchalantly describing his extended family’s decision to starve his Grandpa as a “natural” death.

When the other boys left the car, Marci’s own son turned to her, aghast, and said, “What’s up with that? Stop feeding him so he’ll die?!”

What’s up with that?  It’s “worldview” in action.

What’s a “worldview”?

Our worldview is the lens through which we see the world—it’s anchored to the truths we believe and reflected in the shape of our decisions.

It’s the window through which we interpret our world, find meaning, and make decisions about right and wrong.

Decisions like whether or not we should continue feeding Grandpa.

Secular or Christian Worldview?

The sharp divide between these two worldviews begins at the beginning…with their premises.

While the Christian worldview centers on God (and acknowledges that God is in charge and we are not), the secular worldview exalts “me and my happiness.”

That’s an easy sell. Daily messages from the media, entertainment, counselors, doctors–even nominally religious folks–reinforce the secular worldview that it’s “all about me.”

And ideas that once seemed unthinkable blend into the cultural “white noise”— hardly noticed, rarely challenged, but imprinted in mind and memory.

Ideas like…

“We can’t really know what’s true. You have your truth, I have mine.”

“What’s wrong for me might be right for you.”

“What really matters is that you’re happy.”

“You’re entitled to get what you want. Now.”

“You’ve got to think about yourself first.”

“’Quality of life’ matters more than life itself.”

“Some lives aren’t worth living.”

Unless consciously overridden, these ideas trigger a secular worldview by default—even among those who wear the Christian label.

The result? Flawed moral reasoning.

The results can be deadly, as Grandpa discovered.

Christian morality begins with the question, “What does God say about this?”

The secular culture first asks, “How do you feel about that?”

Trying to decide whether Grandpa gets fed by asking, “How do I feel about that?” is like trying to drop a moral plumb line onto a deck that’s pitching and tossing on waves of emotion.

It won’t work.

As Christians, our moral reasoning begins with the truth revealed by God. And our moral plumb line drops straight from one level (“What does God say?”) to the next (“What does the Church teach?”), defining the scope of our solutions.

“Solutions” incompatible with God’s teachings get dumped out of the “solutions” bucket from the start, before we ever ask ourselves, “How do I feel about that?”

Ironically, Catholics who reject the moral teachings of the Church miss one of God’s great mercies—it’s precisely those teachings that offer clarity, direction, and peace about how God wants us to act.

So, starving Grandpa is not an option. Pope John Paul II put it this way: “Water and food, even when provided by artificial means, always represents a natural means of preserving life, not a medical act.”

Everyone has a worldview—from the doctors who proposed a “Do Not Feed” solution, to the utilitarian ethicists on hospital staffs, to the clerk in the hospital gift store.

Trey’s family has a worldview.

And so do you.

The question is, which one?

Someone’s life may depend on getting it right.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

But with no girls’ team at my high school, I churned up the hills with the boys’ team. The miles I’d run with my dad and brothers over the years made competing with the boys’ team as natural as running itself.  (And beating even a few male runners on the racecourse was, I admit, satisfying.)

So I get it.

I understand Cassy Herkelman’s athleticism and her desire to compete against the best athletes around.  I really do get that.

Cassy Herkelman, by the way, is a 112-pound high school girl, a freshman at Cedar Falls High School in Iowa. The problem, however, is that Cassy competes with high school boys in a sport where success depends on breaching all the natural boundaries of male-female physical contact.

She’s a wrestler.

And what I don’t get is her parents’ decision to let her aim her athleticism and competitive drive at the wrestling mat. I don’t get that at all.

Cassy and another girl wrestler, Megan Black, earned spots in this year’s Iowa State Wrestling Tournament for the first time. But Cassy’s first round match proved to be a test of faith and conviction rather than skill…for her opponent, at least.

Her scheduled opponent, Joel Northrup, was a promising young wrestler who finished third in last year’s tournament. But Joel withdrew from the match, handing Cassy a victory by forfeit.

Why did Joel refuse to wrestle Cassy and, with that refusal, end his title hopes?

Because his faith taught him better than to grapple violently with a girl, grabbing at her body parts for handholds, mentally focused on subduing her. He knew that the sports context didn’t make the contact less problematic. Joel’s strong character propelled him to do the right thing—forfeiting–even though it cost him a shot at the championship he’s worked towards all season long.

To his credit, Joel speaks well of Cassy and acknowledges her athletic talent.  But he goes on to say, “wrestling is a combat sport and it can get violent at times….As a matter of conscience and faith, I do not believe that it is appropriate for a boy to engage a girl in this manner. It is unfortunate that I have been placed in [this] situation…”

Joel’s right.  It should never have come to this.

Even if dunder-headed school administrators lacked the common sense to keep girls from wrestling boys, the girls’ parents should never have allowed it. For the girls’ sakes as well as the boys.’

While wrestling moves aren’t overtly sexual and must conform to set rules, wrestling is a contact sport–an aggressive, body-on-body contest. Unlike the jarring, two-second contact of tackle football, wrestling entails sustained grappling, grabbing, squeezing, pressing, and even gouging. As the match progresses, opponents might end up lying on top of each other, wrapping their arms and legs around the other’s torso, or grabbing through the opponent’s legs to flip or pin the other.

“She can take it.”  I can hear the argument now.  But this isn’t a question about whether a girl is tough enough to physically endure those demands on her body.  Certainly an athletic girl can condition her body as well as a boy, and learn the techniques to deftly escape or take down an opponent.

Yes, girls can be fit, well-conditioned, competitive athletes. But that misses the point.

Throwing girls and boys on the wrestling mat together involves more than relative strength or skill level. Girls’ bodies are, well, girls’ bodies, different from boys.’ And that physical difference extends to the way they think and feel, as well as their natural inhibitions and inclinations. Our norms about appropriate physical contact are a way of respecting those differences.

Consider this: fifteen-year-old girl wrestlers, like Cassy, must allow a succession of fifteen-year-old boys (friends? strangers?) to handle their bodies roughly, intimately, aggressively on an open mat in front of a crowd, in an atmosphere of adversarial domination.  And, in order to win, they must respond in kind.

Do we really want a girl to shrug off this kind of contact? To overcome her innate emotional resistance to having her body handled roughly by random males? To accept an adrenaline-driven male grabbing her face, reaching through her legs and flipping her, pinning her? Or for her to grab a teenage boy the same way?

Do we really want our boys to put their physical aggression in high gear against a girl, “fighting” her, while they simultaneously experience her touches and grabs in sensitive areas?

For a boy and girl to wrestle each other requires each to make internal compromises–mental shifts to overcome the ingrained, rightful boundaries we have about how males and females should interact physically.

I believe it’s a good instinct for a girl to recoil from a stranger’s rough touch, especially in intimate areas, just it’s a good mindset for a boy to pull back from causing a girl physical pain or overpowering her in pursuit of physical dominance.

So what on earth are parents thinking, when they allow their son or daughter to wrestle an opposite-sex opponent? I just don’t get it.

Cassy Henkelman lost her subsequent matches and has been eliminated from the tournament.

She failed to win a medal.

But does she even know what she lost in the attempt?

Copyright 2011 Mary Hasson

James, a teacher-friend of mine, lamented recently how “morally challenged” his high school students seem to be. “They don’t think twice about lying or slamming someone’s reputation. Cheating on tests is no big deal. They only worry if they’ll get caught.”

Recent headlines and the latest studies paint a dismal picture of cheating, bullying, sexual experimentation, on-line exhibitionism and “cyber-stalking.” College students show declining levels of empathy—a quality viewed as the foundation of ethical behavior. And the problems start early. A quick snapshot of the playground culture captures younger children who bully their way to the top of the slide or push past a crying child to reach the swings first, classic examples of self-absorption and lack of compassion.

What—or who—is to blame?

Fingers point to a variety of big cultural problems:  hyper-sexualized media, fragmented families, declining religiosity, and rampant materialism.

But new research from Notre Dame Professor Darcia Narvaez suggests that current parenting practices are the more likely culprit. The “moral sense” of children—now and in times past–hinges on whether they learn empathy and concern for others, particularly in the early years of life.  ““Our work shows that the roots of moral functioning form early in life, in infancy, and depend on the affective quality of family and community support.” And the problem, according to her research, is that today’s child-rearing practices make that increasingly difficult. The result: “The quality of our cultural moral fiber is diminishing.”

The specific problems with childrearing today might be summed up by what’s missing: time together, physical closeness, and adult responsiveness. In particular, Narvaez contrasts the “emotionally suboptimal day care facilities with little individualized, responsive care” to the optimal situation that keeps children close  to mom, encourages parental responsiveness to infant needs, and offers parents and children strong support from extended family and the community.

She cites a specific set of “ancestral” practices that cultivate strong family bonds—and consequently support moral development, particularly compassion and concern for others.  These include:

• Plenty of positive touch (cuddling, carrying, etc.)
• Parental responsiveness to the child’s needs.
• Extended breastfeeding (2-5 years)
• Natural child-birth (which provides a hormonal boost aiding newborn care)
• Lots of unstructured playtime, with children of varied ages.
• The presence of additional adults (typically dads and grandmothers) to love, care for, and guide the child. Mom is not alone.

I don’t think anyone would argue that we should—even if we could–replicate the exact family practices of long ago. But the insights from Dr. Narvaez’ research make sense, from a parent’s perspective.

It’s much easier to discipline a child and pass on a moral framework within the context of a warm, caring parent-child relationship.

As a practical matter, kids who feel loved and well-cared for tend to listen better and want to please their parents—making discipline easier and encouraging them to internalize their parents’ morals.  Kids naturally imitate what they see over time, so the time spent together and the quality of the relationship with the parent are important: a child who experiences the self-giving love of a parent sees a daily model of other-centeredness, and the parent’s responsiveness teaches a child to recognize others’ needs and alleviate their sufferings, instilling compassion.

The bottom line: moral formation does seem to “stick” better when it’s given in the context of a good relationship and supported by others, both in the family and the community at large. But a warm parent-child relationship, or strong “attachment,” takes time, togetherness, tenderness, and teaching—all of which seem to be frequent casualties of our fast-paced, multi-tasking, dual-income lifestyles.

Dr. Narvaez’ research is both a comfort and a warning.  She says, “Kids who don’t get the emotional nurturing they need in early life tend to be more self-centered. They don’t have available the compassion-related emotions to the same degree as kids who were raised by warm, responsive families.” Her words offer comfort for those who sacrifice much in order to give their children love and a good moral foundation.  But they also warn that if our society fails to support families with children, the moral fabric of our culture will surely unravel.

© 2010 Mary Rice Hasson

This article first appeared at FamilyEdge on MercatorNet.com

Editor’s Note: Today, we welcome Mary Hasson to our CatholicMom.com family of contributors.  Mary will join us twice a month to share her writing on a variety of faith and family topics.  With Kimberly Hahn, Mary is the co-author of the great book Catholic Education: Homeward Bound : A Useful Guide to Catholic Home Schooling.  Please take some time today to enjoy Mary’s blog Words from Cana.  Welcome Mary and thanks for sharing the gift of your writing with us!  LMH

I couldn’t help but notice their chemistry.

Paul and Lynn were our unexpected dinner companions, joining our small group for a delicious seafood dinner. The meal was fabulous, truly, but not nearly as memorable as this delightful couple.

Their enviable relationship was the fruit of fifty years of marriage, some very hard times, and one secret—the secret, I discovered, that can make nearly every marriage better.

It’s been a tough year for marriage, in my world.

Four couples I care about are divorcing this year after 13, 17, 24, and 28 years together. Their backgrounds, hometowns, and stories all differ.  Some are parting for just cause; others for the excitement offered elsewhere. But twenty children (the combined total from the four families) now share a common, painful experience: lives turned upside down, families fractured, and hearts broken.

Recently I stumbled across an interview with writer Nora Ephron, a frank and usually funny woman.  But she spoke seriously about divorce: “There are a lot of people who get divorced and several years later they think, ‘Hmm, was I really that bored?’ …Don’t kid yourself that your kids are OK. The kids are really not alright. It doesn’t mean they don’t survive; it’s just, don’t kid yourself that kids like leaving one house to go to another. It’s not what they’re built for…. It’s tough for kids; it just is.”

Even when divorce is the right solution for an untenable situation, like abuse, it wounds not just the couple but the families and friends who love them both.

So my heart smiled within minutes of meeting this pair, Paul and Lynn. They glowed with love for each other—twinkled together, really–as Lynn shared their plans to celebrate fifty years of marriage with a ten-day cruise to Alaska.

When she spoke, his eyes shone with tenderness and crinkled in smiling delight.  He listened, really listened, when she talked. No glazed eyes or dismissive looks; no wavering attention or a wandering eye. He really wanted to hear what she was saying over dinner. No matter that they’d already shared some 17,000 dinner discussions. He was as attentive that night as if it were their first conversation.

And her face sparkled, with both youthful affection and mature love, as she talked about him, the life they had shared, and the years ahead. She enjoyed him, leaning forward to catch his soft-spoken words, touching him affectionately, and anticipating his needs before he did. It was unself-conscious and real.

But I was sure that it hadn’t come easy.

Over the years, I’ve mentored many women in marriage and motherhood and gratefully learned much from those who’ve mentored me.  I approached Lynn in that spirit as we mingled after dinner. Thinking of the pain in my friends’ relationships, I wondered, how do Paul and Lynn repair marital rifts that tear other marriages apart? What keeps love flickering and then roaring back to life when human weakness, failings, and sin threaten to smother it? What’s the secret to a marriage like theirs?

So I asked Lynn.  She paused, but only for a few seconds, and said.

“It’s simple, but it’s not easy…

“It’s what’s in your heart. You’ve got to LOVE each other. We’re happy because I do things for him and he does things for me. That’s what love means… I do things for him and he does things for me.”

It was how they lived their life: I do things for him and he does things for me.

As she talked, it became clear that the “things” they’ve done for one another were way beyond the “pick-up-his-socks” and “surprise-her-by doing-the dishes” things suggested in typical marriage columns. Their mutual “doing” carried them across parched deserts and through tumultuous rapids—past the dangerous places where marriages die. It was no easy feat.

They were married at 18, had four kids, moved many times, and endured years of penny-pinching.  At times, Paul worked two jobs and Lynn did double duty at home.  And when he was unemployed, she worked and he scrimped. They survived teenage turmoil without turning on each other and avoided the blame game for their money troubles.

This attitude of heart–I do things for him and he does things for me—was woven into the fabric of their life, carrying them through new trials even at later stages. With children launched, finances eased.  But life challenged them anew. A once in a lifetime business venture to secure their retirement carried high costs: a move to a different continent, selling everything and leaving adult kids and grandkids behind.

It tested them mightily. Lynn was miserable. She missed her family, friends, church, and the familiarity of life stateside. She wanted to leave. And Paul listened. She had come there for him and he’d move now for her. While leaving the country was not possible yet, moving within the city was. Lynn would choose. They moved from the city apartment that was perfect for Paul, close to work, to a village near the sea, where Lynn could create a home, find friends and a place to worship.  And two years later, they would return to the U.S., back to family and friends.

As in times past, their common pledge–that simple secret–kept them going. I do things for him and he does things for me.

“It takes work,” Lynn said. “If you’re gonna love each other, you’ve got to ask what the other person needs. And then give it.  You’re in this together. That’s why I say, I do things for him and he does things for me.”

Fifty years had stoked their passion and fifty years had burnt away selfishness. Deep inside their hearts, an everlasting ember gave off sparks of joy, delight, warmth, and affection at regular intervals. Theirs is a mutual love that says, I do things for him and he does things for me.

For me, I’ve learned a new shorthand for the theological truths of “mutual self-gift,” “sacrificial love,” and “finding fulfillment by giving yourself to another in love.”

“I do things for him and he does things for me.”

Much more memorable, don’t you think? And that’s the secret of a good marriage.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson