Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/bostoncatholic. Pope Francis, the 266th pope, is also the first Jesuit and South American pope.

By Evan Jay Peterson
Chameleon Staff Writer

With the unexpected resignation of Pope Benedict XVI on February 28, the Catholic Church found itself without a shepherd with Easter quickly approaching.

The College of Cardinals elected Jorge Cardinal Bergoglio, now Pope Francis, as the Catholic Church’s 266^th pope on March 13.

Not only was this election quick and decisive, but it was also an historic election, for the 76-year-old is both the first Jesuit pope and the first South American pope.

Francis has proven to be shy, timid, and unassuming in the spotlight.

Though the media portrays him as a progressive pope, the new pope has a fairly conservative track-record on social issues.

He has openly opposed gay marriage, calling one bill supporting civil unions between same-sex couples “a move of the Father of Lies.”

He is also staunchly pro-life, so social liberals should not expect the Church to change its doctrine on social issues.

A Brief History

Born to Italian immigrants Mario José Bergoglio and Regina María Sívori on December 17, 1936, Pope Francis grew up in the Argentinean district of Flores.

He entered his novitiate as a Jesuit in 1958, was ordained a priest in 1969, and made his perpetual profession as a Jesuit in 1973. He was declared the archbishop of Buenos Aires in 1998 and became a cardinal in 2001.

However, Pope Francis’ journey to the papacy was not free of obstacles and narrow escapes.

Multiple sources, including the Associated Press and the Daily Mail, report that Francis had a lung removed due to disease. The lung was surgically removed when Francis was in his early 20s; there is speculation as to which infectious respiratory disease Francis suffered from, but pneumonia and tuberculosis are the most cited candidates.

Francis also admitted to having second thoughts about the priesthood upon meeting a particular girl. While in the seminary, Francis met a girl at his uncle’s wedding.

“I was surprised by her beauty, her intellectual brilliance…and, well, I was bowled over for quite a while. I kept thinking and thinking about her. When I returned to the seminary after the wedding, I could not pray for over a week because when I tried to do so, the girl appeared in my head. I had to rethink what I was doing.”

Despite this passing crush, Francis discerned that he was indeed called to the priesthood, likely not realizing his higher calling to the role of bishop.

The Shepherd of Argentina

As the Argentinean cardinal and archbishop, Francis led the Argentinean faithful through the “Dirty War.”

Though he has taken some criticism for not speaking out enough in the media’s eyes, Francis did criticize both the oppressive government and the radical guerrillas.

Francis was also confronted with child-abuse scandals, an issue that he addressed decisively.

Many commentators assert that Francis has taken a “zero-tolerance” policy on these abuses.

“We must never turn a blind eye. You cannot be in a position of power and destroy the life of another person,” Francis said.

He has called the reassigning of convicted pedophilic priests “stupid” and asserts that offenders be suspended and barred from practicing until their discipline has been carried out.

As this issue is Church-wide, Francis’ no-nonsense, clean-up-shop approach will be more than welcome.

Looking Forward

Francis’ time as cardinal of a country in turmoil gave him somewhat of an idea of the struggle he would face as pope.

Francis enters the pontificate as the shepherd of a Church under fire.

America is seeking to reconstruct the traditional definition of marriage, which the Church vehemently opposes.

Millions of abortions are performed worldwide, offending the Church’s view of the sanctity of life.

Certain priests and clergy have engaged in abusive and scandalous behavior with innocent minors.

Many Catholics are calling for the Church to break tradition and ordain women into the priesthood.

Concerning all of these issues, Francis will more than likely remain steadfast with the Church’s teachings, as a pope ought to.

The media has openly suggested that Francis may be a “progressive pope,” but Francis hardly meets the media’s idea of a progressive.

Jesuits are somewhat notorious for being more on the liberal side, but Francis has openly opposed gay marriage, abortion, and the ordination of women.

Anyone expecting Francis to change the Church’s position on these controversial issues is very likely going to be disappointed.

The pope, unlike other elected officials, is not called to usher in new policy. Pope Francis has been elected to uphold and defend Church doctrine, to lead all Catholics, and to speak on behalf of Christ.

Though Francis is doctrinally conservative, he is more of a fiscal liberal, calling for economic equality in socioeconomically stratified communities.

“He’ll likely offer a more pastoral face to the papacy even as, based on his past criticism of the global economic order, he is likely to continue Pope Benedict’s skepticism of unrestrained free market policies,” said analyst Kevin Clarke of the America National Catholic Review.

Francis will thus advocate extensively for the poor.

At the end of the day, no one is clairvoyant.

Trying to guess what Francis’ papacy will look like is nothing more or less than speculation.

The College of Cardinals has been called to elect a candidate based on the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

Pope Francis must do what he can to lead people to Heaven and uphold Truth.

Only he knows how God is calling him to accomplish these tasks.

To contact Evan, email him at epeterson4@luc.edu.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Blogger

Every time it rolls around, April is a hot mess. It’s rainy, it’s jam-packed with deadlines and it’s the month that marks the end of the world’s hibernation, instigating the burst of energy that causes every aspect of life to move just a little too fast. This time of year reminds me of my high school days, when I had to continually discover that I was not, in fact, Wonder Woman. I could not fulfill all of my commitments, all of the things for which I had signed up or applied. I was stressing in a field full of flowers, colorless wheat and untamed foxes (this metaphor will make a lot more sense if you take a minute to read Chapter 21 of The Little Prince).

Because I attend a Jesuit university, an institution dedicated to the swift and educated application of social justice, I am constantly taunted by calls to service and selflessness; opportunities to use my resources to contribute to the common good that is so emphasized in Catholic doctrine. I don’t consider this to be a negative thing, but at a certain point it can become dangerous, because it means that I continue to struggle with this over-commitment issue. I feel like I constantly need to be doing something constructive, something bigger and better than I’ve done before. Otherwise, I am not living up to my full potential. And I am not alone in this. My entire generation is one that is paralyzed by access, made numb by options.

Our mantra can be found in the words of the Little Prince himself: “I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.” We are trying to be Renaissance men and women, experiencing as many disciplines and encompassing as many causes as possible. As noble as this is, I’m starting to think that we need to center ourselves, to reevaluate our focus.

I’m not suggesting that we shirk our good old Protestant work ethic altogether. That would be blasphemy in a society that prides itself on excessive stress as much as our does. I’m just saying that we should shift from having time, to making time. (Even St. Ignatius, who valued service so highly, was a huge proponent of self-awareness and reflection, of taking time for one’s self. Because if you can’t get a handle on your own life, you most certainly can’t help anybody else.) April presents us with a good opportunity to take responsibility for something, to learn to understand it slowly and to tame it. Here’s to doing a select few things, and doing them well.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Blogger

The UPS guy buzzed my apartment just as woke up last Saturday. I headed downstairs to let him in, but SURPRISE! The UPS guy was actually a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses. (I should really start using the intercom to check who my visitors actually are. Lesson learned.) They handed me a little flier inviting me and my neighbors to discover Jesus at some local seminar later in the week. Then they piled on some “Who Was Moses?” pamphlets and gave me a blessing, wasting no time in moving on to the next building.

It suddenly dawned on me that I have never taken the time to read through this kind of material, despite the fact that the Witnesses visit our neighborhood and distribute it on an impressively regular basis. Usually I smile and nod and pretend for two hot seconds that I’m not going to turn right around and do this  or this and toss it into the recycling. Today would be different, though. I secretly vowed to scour every inch of those brochures, to approach them as research, to analyze them within a context of experimental theological adventure. It would be the only way for me to see what this tradition, this thing I so easily discredit and discard, is all about. Ok, that’s dramatic, but I had to be able to justify sitting at the breakfast table staring at a spread of overly-Anglican Bible characters and reading, out loud, a collection of sweeping judgments built on fragmented passages of scripture. Best way EVER to freak out and/or confuse your roommate, by the way (sorry, Susan).

It wasn’t really the content of this “literature” that bothered me, but rather, the way in which the content was presented: everything was stated as a fact. Those handouts were prime examples of cut-and-dried, black-and-white inductive reasoning that left no room for personalization or, more importantly, questions; no room for, or acceptance of, doubt.

My pastor gave a fantastic sermon today, focused on doubt and its prevalence in a strong and healthy faith life. I’ll never forget how he put it:  “Doubt is faith, seeking understanding in a world that makes no sense.” Discovery of the truth, or maybe even the capital-T “Truth,” doesn’t start with certainty. It isn’t the result of a system of belief that is imposed on a group of people who eventually succumb to it and agree to be molded by it. It works in reverse. It starts with a group of people listening for inspiration and ideas, for the things that speak to their hearts, it and grows out of their questions and discernments into something cohesive, a statement of belief. Truth is not something that you, alone, seek. It is what God seeks in you. But not through a pamphlet, through a list of pre-determined rules and regulations. More like in the corners of your questions and the shadows of your doubts.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Blogger

I’ve always liked Easter because it feels like the spring edition of a New Years celebration. There’s just something about the impending wrap-up of the school year, the occasional glimpses of sunshine that pop through the clouds, Charlton Heston as a salt-and-pepper Moses and the endless supply of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs that says, “here’s a fresh start! A clean slate!” (Jesus ascending from his grave three days after a brutal crucifixion to assume his prophesied seat at the right hand of his father, the omnipotent God, is pretty inspiring, too.) No, in all seriousness, whatever your religious beliefs may or may not be, Easter offers a break, albeit short, for reflection. One of my classes just recently touched on an idea called “Jesuit Indifference” that I think is appropriate to mention here, considering that this break will shortly be upon us.

Indifference suggests that we should constantly be striving to rid ourselves of our attachments to worldly possessions. It is natural for us to create these attachments, not only because doing so is a way to show that we care about something, but also because the physical realm is where our most fundamental fears, desires and the like can be manifested tangibly, shown in ways that we can see and understand. But this tangibility can sometimes mask the truth.

For example, my mom used to have a ring that I loved. I begged her to let me wear it to school, and being the lovely woman that she is, she let 12 year-old me do just that. Of course, I went around flaunting it and switching up which finger it was on, spinning it and obsessing over it in every possible way. Ironically enough, I managed to lose it in just a few short hours. So I went into super diva mode and cried like you wouldn’t believe, lamenting my undecorated right hand. After a little while, though, I realized that the ring wasn’t what mattered … it was what the ring stood for that mattered. Instead of apologizing for losing a piece of jewelry, I needed to go deeper and apologize for being careless and, as a result, breaching Mama J’s trust.

Ignatius was a pretty smart guy, and he admitted upfront that we will probably never be able to rid ourselves of worldly attachments entirely. But he encouraged constant self-evaluation so that we can be aware of what our own attachments look like and attempt to live responsibly and lovingly in spite of them.

So happy (hoppy) Easter Break to all, and remember: the best things in life aren’t things.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

I had the chance to meet up with a dear old friend a little while back, which was extra special because she is so busy that I would expect her to use any free time she does find to, oh, I don’t know, eat or sleep? She is a graduating senior with a heavy class load, a student teaching position and a job on campus. Girl is overworked and underpaid! Over some burgers and beer we kicked back and caught up, and I tried for the life of me to figure out how she looks so gorgeous and how she never stops radiating joy in the face of everything she has to do.

We ventured to her apartment after dinner, and the first thing I saw when we walked through the door was Max Erhmann’s Desiderata (only, I didn’t know that at the time, because I had never heard of it before). Long story short, everyone should read this poem. It’s dangerous to think in terms of a Facebook information profile, to assume that a list of a few favorite quotes or philosophies can sum up the way you should live your life. But Desiderata pretty much covers it all. Helen, thank you, not only for introducing me to these words, but also for being the living example of them.

And sister, if you are reading this, stop, because this will probably be your graduation gift.

Desiderata

by Max Erhmann- 1927

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality blogger

Confession time: sometimes I don’t make it to church on Sunday mornings. Part of this is because I’m hunting for a new home congregation and am quickly growing discouraged, but mostly it’s that I’m getting really good at ignoring my alarm. In attempts to make up for lost time, I’ve started following a couple of different pastors who post their sermons, written and recorded, online. E-church is not at all the same as shared worship, but it’s working for me in a pinch and it provides me with a wide range of things to think about … little nuggets of inspiration, if you will.

This past weekend I was “listening” to Nadia Bolz-Weber (if you haven’t heard of her, you’re going to want to change that. Check her out) Her most recent sermon is about Luke 13:6-8, the Parable of the Barren Fig Tree. WHAT. I WAS EATING FIG NEWTONS RIGHT AS I OPENED UP THE PAGE. Obviously, this was a sign that I needed to do something about this story. But what? It’s short, it’s kind of random, it’s easily forgotten and it’s really not that relevant. (I mean, who knows anything about figs other than the Newtons people? Seriously.) Well, it’s always good to start with a summary. There’s a man who tells his gardener to cut down a fig tree because it has failed to produce any fruit for three whole years. The gardener turns into the Lorax briefly, interceding on the tree’s behalf and insisting that with one more year and a little extra manure, the tree will do just fine.

Nadia emphasizes, and tries to get away from, the fact that we tend to look at parables all wrong, oversimplifying them to pick out one or two key lessons and assigning specific roles to the characters they use. While some people look at the all-powerful landowner as God and the tree as humanity as a whole, she suggests something very different: we have all felt at one point or another that we aren’t doing anything useful, that we aren’t bearing any fruit. But at the same time, we’ve all had our judgmental moments where, even in the light of our own shortcomings, we were quick to condemn other people around us. So for Nadia, that makes each of us part tree, part landowner. And God? He’s the gardener, fighting to give us a fresh start.

I like this interpretation a lot. I mean, why wouldn’t you want God on your side, even if he is planning to cover you in manure? I’d like to suggest a little tweak, though: I think that God encompasses all three roles here. Sometimes, he seems dead to us, distant and not providing anything. He’s the tree. At other times, thanks to organized Christianity, he manifests himself in rules. That’s not always a bad thing, but it can make him seem like an overbearing landowner every once in a while. My favorite version of him is Nadia’s, the Lorax God. But we as humans mirror these same identity shifts. While Nadia is right in that we are almost always a mix of the tree and the landowner, she forgets to mention that we have every ability to build each other up and to fight to give each other a whole heap of second chances. If someone is doing something right, making tons and tons of figs, but especially if they aren’t, we should take it upon ourselves to help them out.

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Blogger

The best text message I’ve received in the past month or so came from my cousin: “I’ve never been so happy to pee on my own.” I guess that was her way of telling me, as I found out later from my mom, that she broke her femur while skiing with some friends over winter break (#Minnesotaproblems) and is now in the slow, painful recovery process after her surgery.

Hearing about that recovery process makes me more and more thankful every day that I am not the one going through it. My awareness with regard to the amount of things I take for granted, no matter how seemingly insignificant they might be, has definitely been heightened. I can’t be the only one who finds this time of year to be challenging … everything is dark and gray, the streets are filled with a snowy-rainy hybrid mush and spring semester seems so short and so intense that I’m sure between our classes and our personal lives, a good percentage of us probably have ulcers forming. But thanks to my cousin and to a passage by theologian Michael Himes that I encountered in one of my classes, I have had a little bit of inspiration knocked into me; inspiration to approach every day thinking more sacramentally.

Himes writes as follows:

“The sacramental principle means that what is always and everywhere the case must be noticed, accepted, and celebrated somewhere, sometime. What is always and everywhere true must be brought to our attention and embraced (or rejected) in some concrete experience in some particular time and place.”

The beauty of this model is that it isn’t limited to any one religious tradition … it’s a general philosophy that encourages us to open our minds and hearts to the mysteries around us, the spiritual realities that pop up in the physical realm through our relationships and experiences. “Sacramental thinking” is just the official, theological way to say that it’s the little things that count. So, as midterms descend upon us and those little things get lost in a whirlwind of coffee, stress fits and scheduling conflicts, we should all remember:

“There are two ways to live your life: one as though nothing is a miracle, and the other as though everything is.” -Albert Einstein

Here’s to actively seeking out beauty and trying to feel lucky no matter what.

http://youtu.be/eOM5mxcNm9s

Check out the very first episode of Chameleon News, filmed in front of this week’s Campus Hotspot, the St. James Chapel at the corner of Rush and Pearson near the Water Tower Campus.

Stay tuned for next week’s episode of Chameleon News, with a brand new Campus Hotspot!

Anchored by Ericka Reyes/Marketing Director
Written by Kim De Guzman/Editor-in-Chief
Produced by Sean Keenehan/Section Editor

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Blogger

Last Tuesday, Loyola joined the rest of the world in witnessing a real, live papal resignation. Such drama! Such intrigue! And don’t forget a good afternoon’s worth of witty Facebook statuses. One of my personal favorites read, “Well, I guess we know what Pope Benedict is giving up for Lent this year.” At first, that one irked me, simply because I hadn’t thought of it. But then it irked me more because I realized that it sends the wrong message about Papa Benny, and about Lent. We shouldn’t think of either one in the context of loss, or of giving up something monumental. Instead, we should focus on the long-term enrichment that they both have to offer.

I’m sure that stepping down from his position was the most difficult decision the pope has ever had to make. Quitting doesn’t seem like an option when you are the designated intermediary party between God and more than a billion of his followers. That explains why 600 years have passed without any papal seats being declined.

This, combined with the fact that Pope Benedict’s decision was such a sudden one, instigates a ripple of sadness in the Catholic community and in many groups outside of the denomination. It certainly seems like a loss. But if you delve into the pope’s explanation of his decision, it becomes very clear that he doesn’t feel he is fit to carry out his duties, his “Petrine ministry.” (In fact, he has hypothesized resignation select scholarly and personal writings, a fact that tends to be overlooked.)

His resignation looks like a giant, religious version of ripping off a BandAid. We are experiencing confusion now in lieu of experiencing a much higher degree of frustration and grief later. If the pope truly feels he cannot answer so specific and grandiose a call, then he shouldn’t, because his dishonesty with himself and with others would just cause resentment to build and blow up years down the road. Stepping down is actually his way of trying to contribute to a stronger, healthier church long-term.

In a similar vein is the season of Lent, which I should probably mention because it has already started. The classic question is always, “What are you giving up for Lent?” I’m going to suggest a slight rephrase: “What are you doing for Lent?” I understand that we sacrifice a part of our daily in order to reflect and remember Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. However, he was nailed there to absolve sin and to offer unconditional love for the rest of time, not just to guilt us into giving up soda or TV.

It’s the BandAid Effect all over again … talk about your futuristic thinker. I think that we should look for enriching activities to add to our daily routines rather than undesirable ones to remove, to reflect and remember Jesus’ true motive in the resurrection, and to strive to be better people in general, to live out the value of cura personalis that is so integral to the Loyola experience.

(Click here for the whole story on the papal resignation.)

Photo courtesy of Flickr/ KitAy: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kitpfish/

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

It’s getting colder, finals are around the corner and day-by-day calendars filled with chocolate are infiltrating households across the country. Looks like we’re in Advent, people! But what does that mean exactly? If you want to be official and analyze the Latin, “Advent” translates loosely to “to come,” and has been used for a while now by Western Christian churches to refer to the arrival of Christ on earth. If you spend a good ten minutes online, you’ll find a huge collection of prayers, liturgy and scripture passages that people use to explain and anticipate this coming. And if you ask around, you’ll usually have someone tell you that Advent is the season of worship and waiting, waiting for Christ to arrive.

But I don’t like the word “waiting.” It implies boredom, dissatisfaction, a hint of anxiety and ultimately, an excuse for us to abdicate responsibility in hopes that some sort of higher power will descend from the heavens and right all of our wrongs. Why anticipate that when we can jump-start the same process here and now, ourselves? If attending a Jesuit university has taught me nothing else, it is that each person has the ability to contribute to the community using his or her resources, connections and talents. Actually, it’s less of an ability and more of a responsibility. And no God of mine would expect us to put everything on hold for a month so that, in an attempt to follow tradition and show reverence to him, we forget about that responsibility. The bringing about of justice that people so insistently attribute to God and his divine plan should really start with us, here and now.

A lot of times, all you’ll need to do to help is to listen to someone vent, edit a friend’s paper or cover a shift for a coworker. Occasionally the needs around you will be more serious and on a bigger scale. Regardless, we should always be analyzing how we can constructively and effectively use what we have. I propose that we think of Advent as preparation. As action. As reflection. But never as waiting, and never as limited to the month before Christmas … there are no seasonal boundaries when it comes to service.

News Brief Compiled By Kim De Guzman

Editor-in-Chief

Here’s what’s been making headlines during the past week:

Photo from telegraph.co.uk

A/E

According to BBC News, a play about late singer Amy Winehouse set to debut in Denmark in January 2013 has been canceled. The singer’s estate has blocked the use of her materials in the production.

Photo from veoverde.com

Green Scene

National Geographic claims that a rare species of giant tortoise (which was thought to have gone extinct) may still live on. DNA evidence from a Yale University study reveals the tortoise species Chelonoidis abingdoni may still have more of its kind located in a remote area in Ecuador’s Galapagos Islands.

Photo from nationstates.net

Culture Shock

The Standard, Hong Kong’s biggest circulation daily publication, reports that Hong Kong has been named a “superpower” in education, along with Finland and South Korea, by an international study known as the Global Index of Cognitive Skills and Education Attainment.

Photo from abcnews.go.com

The Hots

The Huffington Post reports that Florida’s Department of Health has sent out a survey inquiring about intimate details of the sex lives of 4,100 young women. But that’s not all. The state is offering survey participants $10 gift cards to CVS for use on “health-related items.”

Photo from bloomberg.com

Co-Exist

According to the Huffington Post, the Church of England faces a possible “major constitutional crisis,” after rejecting the possibility of women bishops. After the unexpected defeat, the church said the process to allow women bishops would need to begin anew, and couldn’t start again until a new General Synod (the Church of England’s legislative body) is seated in 2015.

Photo from guardian.co.uk

Liberation

The Guardian reports that a Swedish toy retailer is “arming children with the ability to question outdated gender roles.” The retailer, Top Toy, has released their annual holiday catalog with advertising designed to “confound every gender prejudice.” The catalog shows pictures of girls holding Nerf Guns, and boys playing with dolls.

Photo from Reuters

According to Reuters, Greek Prime Minister Antonis Samaras welcomed a debt deal agreed by lenders to unlock aid, promising skeptical Greeks a new dawn after months of haggling under the threat of bankruptcy. Euro zone finance ministers and the International Monetary Fund agreed to reduce Greek debt by 40 billion euros ($52 billion), opening the way for 43.7 billion euros of loans to be disbursed by early 2013.

Kim De Guzman is the editor-in-chief. She can be reached at editorinchief@luchameleon.com

Photo By Anna Kebe/The Chameleon. Both Hanukkah and Kwanzaa are also well-celebrated holidays during December.

By Jill Kreider
Chameleon Staff Writer

Yes, a vast majority of people celebrate Christmas, both in its religious form–the birthday of ‘our Lord and savior, the one, the only, baby Jesus’–and also its commercialized brother, what I like to call X-mas: elves, Santa, and reindeer strewn all about the neighborhood.

But what about those who don’t celebrate Christmas, for whatever reason? Here’s a look at the history of two other well-celebrated holidays: Hanukkah and Kwanzaa.

Hanukkah

For our Jewish friends, Hanukkah is the celebration to look forward to: eight days of dreidel spinning, chocolate coins, menorahs and a tale about one day’s worth of holy oil lasting a total of eight days, at which point they were able to make more oil and continue lighting the temple candles.

Hanukkah pre-dates Christmas and is said to have occurred during the Maccabean Revolt, when the Jewish people were fighting a bad-ass battle for the right to practice Judaism, rather than being forced to worship the Greek Gods.

The Jewish army won using guerrilla type warfare, at which point they re-dedicated the temple in Jerusalem, starting the tradition of Hanukkah.

Kwanzaa

Kwanzaa was originally created during the 1960s to give African Americans and Canadians their own holiday.

The name ‘Kwanzaa’ is part of a Swahili phrase meaning ‘first fruits of harvest’ and is sometimes celebrated by Black families together with Christmas.

It lasts seven days, each of which represents an ‘African principle’: unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity and faith.

One candle, held in a kinara (similar in shape to a menorah), is lit for every day, and on that day, the faithful reflect on the day’s principle.

The virtues expressed in Kwanzaa are more than just African principles; rather they are principles which can be applied to everyone, regardless of race or religion.

To contact Jill, email her at jkreider@luc.edu.

Photo courtesy of Flickr/ eldh: http://www.flickr.com/photos/eldh/5858249526/sizes/m/in/photostream/

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

About a month ago, I visited a friend at Missouri University. I decided to go to classes with her on Monday. Luckily for me, that same Monday was Missouri Honor Medal Day, when a handful of award-winning journalists were on campus presenting their stories to students and faculty. I did my best to disguise myself as a journalism student (all it takes, really, is a lot of coffee, a high level of proficiency with social media, impeccable grammar and a healthy dose of cynicism) and headed into the first presentation.

It was called “How Twitter Saved My Life,” and was given Mona Eltahawy. Her biography is so impressive that I can’t quite do it justice in this post. Sparknotes version: she is a freelance journalist turned opinion writer who also identifies as a social and political activist working mostly from female and Muslim lenses. Whew. She talked about a myriad of things, but focused primarily on her recent involvement in the 2011 Egyptian Revolution. She was captured, beaten, sexually assaulted and deprived of her most important lifeline: her phone. However, she was able to use somebody else’s Blackberry to post her situation on Twitter, instigating the formation of “#savemona,” which resulted in US governmental involvement and ultimately, her rescue.

During the question and answer portion of her presentation, a timid student in the middle of the room asked what her main source of motivation was, where she got so much drive to stay involved in such a dangerous line of work. Her answer is one that caught me off guard, and one that I will never forget: “Anger. I’m a very angry person.” She went on to explain that all of the negative connotations of anger go away if you use it constructively. Anger is a sign that you truly care about something, that you take some form of responsibility for the outcome of a situation, which makes anger a much better alternative to indifference, according to Mona. We can only have peace if we have justice, and we can only have justice if we hate injustice, if we feel (and act upon) anger.

I thought instantly of the Christian scriptures in which God is described or portrayed as jealous, as angry, particularly the ones in the Old Testament. I don’t like thinking of the central force in my life as a hateful one, but maybe I’m reading things incorrectly. Maybe an angry God is actually a God working for justice, for peace. Maybe by following the example he set in his son, we can share his abhorrence for injustice and work toward an ultimate goal of harmony. But that’s just the Christian take on it! Religious identification aside, I think it makes sense to believe that something in each of our spirits should move us to fight for a cause larger and more noble than ourselves. #thanks,mona.

-STAFF REPORT-

This weekend, the LUChameleon celebrates its one year anniversary.

It’s been a whirlwind year for us.

We published our very first issue last November. We started this publication because we wanted to give a voice to the alternative students on campus.

We wanted to provide another student media opportunity on campus, as well as “talk about things that aren’t usually talked about publicly” on campus.

We started out with the half the number of staff members that we have now, with no resources whatsoever, and we started out as an online only magazine while we caught our footing.

Over the past year, we continued to grow. Our staff grew bigger, we added a new theme to our coverage, and we decided to publish a print magazine to compliment our online outlet.

We can only dream of what is in store for us during our toddler years.

Here’s a look back at some of the content during our memorable “first year in business”:

In October 2012, staff writer Stevenson Valentor explores the concept of “no soul” in his “Soul Reflection.”

One of our popular online features from the fall 2012 semester is our Wednesday sexuality blog, Wednesday Heartbeats. Entries include decisions on abstinence, dating conundrums, and a personal commentary from a date rape experience.

Back in February, copy editor Andrew Kletzien wrote an opinion piece entitled “A Letter to Catholic Apologists.” The piece was a commentary regarding several sexual assault incidents involving children in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. Andrew’s article invoked much discussion from Catholic students on campus.

Staff writer Nick Moutvic highlights what to look for in a potential roommate from the October 2012 piece, “Bedfellows: a modern checklist for finding a roommate.”

Just in time for Nov. 6, Chameleon national contributor Lauren Hannigan demonstrates how astrology plays a role in the 2012 presidential election.

Every Friday throughout the school year, our Friday Fashion Spectrumbloggers have kept you in the know with all the latest style tips, deals, and trends, as well as beauty/makeup/accessories advice, what NOT to wear, and where to shop on a college student budget.

Section Editor Sean Keenehan explores Chicago neighborhood Lincoln Square. He claims it has a “small town European feel steeped in German traditions.”

In honor of Election Day 2012, Editor-in-Chief Kim De Guzman discusses her thoughts on voting in her first ever presidential election in “My First Time [Voting, That Is].”

In September 2012, staff writer Michael Lechowitz offers his two cents about the “death of diversity.”

In one of the very first articles published in the Chameleon, staff writer Barbara Crowley interviews several anons about their feelings towards the taboo subject of sex in “Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby.”

Staff writer Jill Kreider sits down with two Loyola students to explore the meaning of the hijab in “Hijabs Uncovered: the Truth About the Headscarf.”

Our very first print issue came out on September 25, 2012. Featured articles included summer study abroad stories from the John Felice Rome Center, a look at the environmentally friendly Cuneo Hall, and the Campus Movie Fest student film festival.

The Chameleon gives you an inside look at Hunger Week, and the significance of this series of week long events on campus in “What do you hunger for?”

In March, staff writer Erika Vigen offered her opinion about the prospective USGA bottled water ban on the Loyola campus in her “environmentally friendly” commentary entitled “Forever Thirsty.”

We’ve started using Storify as a creative tool to tell stories. Check out this one compiled in honor of Election Day.

Our second issue ever [October 2012], came out on October 30, 2012, just in time for Halloween. Featured stories include vegetarian awareness month, a look at Hunger Week, and a neighborhood guide to Chicago ‘hood Lincoln Square.

Our multimedia editors grab a camera and explore the diverse student organizations on campusand their various purposes.

Staff writer Barbara Crowley follows up with her “Let’s Talk About Sex” article by interviewing more anons for another article about the act of masturbation. Is doing the dirty with yourself really so dirty?

Staff writer Nick Moutvic sounds off on the latest developments of male birth control.

Blog and Social Media Director Hannah Lutz gives the rundown on Cafe Descartes, the new corner restaurant/coffee shop on campus.

Of course, there is more than this! Our archives are always up-to-date with previous stories, blog posts, features, and content!

Cheers to Charlie, our staff, and a year of publishing! Thanks for reading both in print and online, throughout the year!

Photo from abeautifulripple.com/Which road do you want to take?

By Stevenson Valentor

Chameleon Staff Writer

Experiences come in two suits: those of new, and those of old (which, for this article, are synonymous with repeated experiences).  Within the former, experiences are generally uncomfortable, exciting, and/or awkward.  Repeating these confusing experiences/acts is the art of practicing, and the ultimate strive to better ourselves:  to surmount the initial awkwardness and work towards fluency with whatever action it is.

Indeed it would be awkward trying to start a donut shop business when one has no previous experience doing so!  But after years of toiling through failures and victoriously working toward successes, business-handling becomes a repeated and an easy experience indeed.

Now what if an individual continually fails through making the same mistakes?  The individual in no way fails until he/she gives up.  As initially awkward actions become fluid with practice, we learn to stop making mistakes only by making them in the first place.

So, damn our indecision!  Regardless of any act we choose (between new or old experiences), we inevitably grow.  With any new skill we wish to attain, we of course must struggle through frustration: otherwise the skill/experience would not be new!  And if we choose to act in a matter of the opposite nature (old), we are without fail perfecting our abilities with that skill/action.

And in the case of making mistakes, we need never fret: as all mistakes are indeed necessary for our growth.  Regardless of the gravity of the mistake, or the number of times we’ve failed to choose optimally, sometimes “wrong” decisions have to be made for us to determine what the “right” one should be.

So at the end of the day, any choice we make is ultimately right.  Whether reaching upward and outward toward some unfamiliar grounds yielding fruitful new experience, or repeating some previously new experience and necessarily bettering ourselves by practicing, we inevitably grow.

Damn indecision, every decision is right .

Regret NOT any action: you are inevitably growing always.

Reflect, reflect, reflect.

To contact Stevenson, please email him at svalentor@luc.edu

Photo Courtesy of Flickr/ DonkeyHotey: http://www.flickr.com/photos/donkeyhotey/

By Megan Niedringhaus

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

Happy Sunday, bloggers!

I’m going to veer off the path of what I usually blog about this week, because I want to talk about something I’ve been struggling with, and I don’t think I’m alone. I want to talk about the problem between politics and religion. Some people might say that there isn’t a problem with the two, because there’s a separation of church and state, but the reality is that there isn’t. If there WERE a separation, analysts and commentators of the last presidential election wouldn’t have addressed Mitt Romney’s Mormonism, and the fact that God wasn’t mentioned at the Democratic National Convention wouldn’t have been raised. But this issue runs deeper than political pundits and analyses on Fox and CNN. What I’m talking about is the problem a lot of voters, especially those in my generation, seem to be facing: the issue of being religious and liberal. I’m a Catholic, and I consider myself to be a devout member of the Church. I love being Catholic. I love our traditions, beliefs, and sacraments, and I really don’t know who I would be without my faith. However, I also think that my LGBT friends deserve to get married and have the same rights and benefits as my straight friends. I’m pro-life, but I don’t think women who are victims of rape should be prevented from taking emergency contraception to prevent pregnancy. I don’t really think whether you love a man or a woman makes you unlovable or permanently damned to hell.

But the Church tells me I’m supposed to uphold some beliefs that I frankly just find to be archaic. So what do I do when election time comes around and publications like the St. Louis Catholic Review subliminally tell me who I have to vote for? I learn to keep my mouth shut around certain members of my family because experience has told me that blood might be thicker than water, but it’s not thicker than politics. I find myself having to hide my personal and political beliefs from my closest family members, because I don’t think it’s worth the fight and anger. But when I step into the polling area, I cast my vote for the candidate who I think is going to look out for me, as a future teacher and member of the middle class, as a student and as an advocate for equality for all Americans. Does this make me a “bad Catholic?” What does it mean to be a young, Catholic adult in the 21^st century?

No. I think this makes me a faith-filled person who wants to love everyone, whether they’re gay, straight, black, white, Republican or Democrat. I think that, at the end of the day, my belief in the true heart of the Catholic Church and the teachings of Jesus is what matters. Standing up against the lack of equality in our world, even if it’s not what’s considered “right” is what matters most. I’m not comparing myself to Jesus by any means here…but isn’t that what He was all about?

Photo by Maddie Johnston/ The Chameleon

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

 I walked into work three minutes late this past Tuesday, per usual, attempting to tie my apron and clock in at the same time. Suddenly, some bangs and a pudgy hand popped up over the counter in front of me. The sweetest little girl you’ve ever seen was (not-so) stealthily trying to swipe a Tootsie Pop. I laughed and reached to help her out when her mom came up behind her saying, “Sweetie, we have to pay for that first!” Without missing a beat, she turned to me and added, “I was in class with you a couple years ago. At Loyola. When I was pregnant with this one.” No greeting, no bubbly sense of excitement, just a statement of fact. She glanced over at her daughter, placed 35 cents on the counter and gave me a slowly familiar smile. “It’s been a while! Hope you’re doing ok.”

What. I immediately flashed back to my freshman year. This girl was so, so right! I sat next to her for two classes every-other day for our entire first semester because she fascinated me from the second I saw her. She was quiet, she was edgy and she was brilliant (I seem to remember her setting the curve for a good number of our tests). I felt honored that we were officially “class friends.” She and I never talked about anything remarkably deep or substantial … we mastered courteous small talk instead, and I looked forward to it every time. She was kind to me; she was open. I didn’t see her much during our second semester, because we had different professors, and after she left school to go through with the delivery, I got wrapped up in finals and summer plans that made me forget about her entirely.

After leading some vague “catching up” chit-chat, she guided her daughter out the door and waved back at me. I got goose bumps everywhere, and all I could do was smile and wonder how on earth I could have let someone who was such an integral part of my college experience fade so intensely in my memory. I felt so strange, and I still can’t explain why. I never know whether or not to believe in angels, but if they do exist, I’m pretty sure I just ran into one by chance. They’re supposed to be messengers, right? Of the word of some higher power? Well, she definitely fits that bill. Whether she meant to or not, she reminded to me to be thankful for the love I can find in my friendships, the love which I consider to be a gift from God. She reminded me not to take for granted the ways in which other people can shape our lives and our identities. Most of all, she reminded me of all of the delicious paradoxes and mysteries encapsulated in religion, in faith. She made me discover, for the millionth time, that the world is very big and very small, all at once.

Photo By Anna Kebe/The Chameleon. JQ1 is a new drug shown to effectively stop the development of sperm in mice.

By Nicholas Moutvic

Chameleon Staff Writer

JQ1 is known as the new drug that has shown an ability to effectively stop the development of sperm in mice.

The drug appeared on the scene this past August.

Baylor Medical University scientists say that because of the positive results throughout testing, they are confident that the drug, essentially a “Pill for Him,” will be able to cross over to human males in as soon as one year.

This has prompted many questions, not the least of which is how soon will it be before republics start another tired tirade on the value of God’s plan, as well as what crazy illogical arguments will they use?

But there’s another conundrum that plagues me.

What is this obsession with wanting to procreate in the first place?

Where are all of my sound-of-mind people who realize that the desire to reproduce is a fundamental weakness?

Besides the obvious problems associated with such matters, like the current state of our planet being in utter flux with overpopulation, it brings with it havoc that is closer to home.

Women, do you really wish to be so substantial of mass for the duration of your pregnancy?

Just reading this you should feel your back getting fatter.

And men, what’s the over/under that your offspring won’t inherit all of those genetic gems, like your dad’s immensely lobular ears or that persistent yet unfortunate schnoz that would even make Barbara shutter that seems to be popping up everywhere on your mom’s side?

Take a beat.

Where’s the fire?

At least I have the decency to hate myself.

Young people aren’t taught this.

I’m all for birth control being available for men, if that’s the only option being presented, but honestly I’d prefer that everyone besides a select few just get neutered.

Take a look at where societal attention is being directed and tell me you don’t agree.

From Teen Mom to The Pregnancy Pact, viewers are fueling this idea in our youth that living in a train wreck will make you successful–or at least get you a television show, which, by our culture’s standards, is basically the same thing.

Don’t even get me started on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.

Thank God there’s a cord or it would be called Look What The Plumber Found.

I give you permission instead to be a more socially responsible individual and take a page out of my book.  Instead of wanting to create, I’ve chosen to one day adopt a foster-care runaway teenager, who has the inability to love and trust, and if he or she is dyslexic too it will be the perfect trifecta.

I will nurture and fix them, get them into Yale, and one day they will cure cancer, culminating in my life story becoming a Lifetime movie.  Which is really all any of us can dream for ourselves, am I right?

The majority of you will read this with your mind already made up, and neither I nor anyone else can change it. However, for those of you who are on the fence about the subject of birth control because of your religious beliefs, come hither for a moment.

Isn’t your God all-knowing?  Then why has he let all of these tragic events in our world unfold?  You should stop listening to him and listen to me.  I mean, he sent his only son to die on the cross.

All in all, men have the right to be in charge of their sexual health just as much as women and mice do.

While some may venture that in the future this will be seen as a bad idea gone worse, it is my strong belief that the effectiveness will uphold itself at least to be considered a great idea gone decent.

To contact Nicholas Moutvic, email him at nmoutvic@luc.edu or follow him on Twitter, @nickmoutvic.

Illustration By Matt Gillis/The Chameleon. The Hijab is a headscarf that is meant to cover a woman’s hair and neck.

By Jill Kreider
Chameleon Staff Writer

Our Chameleon staff writer Jill Kreider sits down with two Muslim Loyola students and uncovers the religious and cultural significance of wearing hijabs.

Q: Why type of veil do you wear?

Naila: I wear the Hijab, which is a headscarf, and also the jilbab, or burqa, which is the long, dress-like garment that covers the entire body. It is meant to hide the form of the body.

Sairah: It’s a regular scarf called the Hijab.

Q: Does it change for different situations?

Naila: Well, I have to wear it in front of men I can potentially marry. The men that I can wear casual clothing in front of include my father, my blood-related uncles and my brother’s kids who are under thirteen years old. I can show my hair to women. So whenever I’m in public I have to put on the Hijab.

Q: Why do you veil?

Naila: It’s a religious tradition and really more like a mandate by God for women to cover. Women do it with varying differences. Some will not even wear the Hijab but will be modest in their overall appearance, but I chose do it to the best of my ability and comfort, which is to wear the Hijab. My family is more on the religious side, so it was easier for me to do things because of my family.

Sairah: It’s a modesty thing. It keeps your beauty covered, because, honestly, the beauty is only meant for your husband. He’s the one who has the actual right to it. And it sort of hides it from everyone else.

Q: Why is veiling important to you?

Naila: My personality has grown up with incorporating religion as a really big part of my daily life, so I feel like showing people at moment’s glance that this is what I stand for, this is what I represent, and this is what I believe in. It goes hand in hand with what I personally believe in and what I personally try to do.

Sairah: I like it. It’s like a symbol of my faith. Once I put this [the Hijab] on, I represent my faith, and it feels good.

Q: How do you feel about veiling in public/on campus?

Naila: I never feel embarrassed, but I can feel the looks. I may feel uncomfortable at times, because I definitely feel like it sticks out. When I first started, I assumed that I would blend in, but actually the exact opposite happened. People do notice me more than someone in jeans and a t-shirt. But I’m proud all the time.

Sairah: Really, it’s just natural. I like that I’m not the only one, so it’s pretty good. I actually just started wearing it last year. I was more anxious about wearing it to high school senior year, but there were also two other girls who wore it at my school. Everyone was fine there and everyone is fine here. No one gives me any weird looks. I do wear it [the Hijab] differently than most other girls, but it’s still the same.

Q: Have you ever had a negative experience because you wear a headscarf?

Naila: Yeah, I’ve had several. There’s always going to be racism. I’ve had some unfortunate instances where people have gone out of the way to, when I’m walking, drive right by me and shout an insulting remark. When I do community service, people have rejected help just because I’m wearing a headscarf. They have certain stereotypes about women who wear the Hijab, but it’s never brought me down.

Sairah: Honestly, I really didn’t. I do remember this one time I was at Target. This happened like a month ago. I was with my sisters taking them school supply shopping, and there was this guy who was laughing at me with some girl. So when he passed me he said really loudly, “I love being a Jew.” I was like, “Okay.” I don’t care, but, honestly, it didn’t really affect me. I’m the type of person who doesn’t get easily offended, so I just ignored him. I take it as a joke, so I haven’t really had any bad experiences.

To contact Jill Kreider, email her at jkreider@luc.edu.

Photo by Anna Kebe/the Chameleon. Where does one find a soul?

By Stevenson Valentor

Chameleon Staff Writer

I have dug before, that soul is silence ~ or more so that soul is a silent, immutable, but inexplicably tasteable, force.  Soul is that lightning rod I have adopted and tapped into after hours of devouring Alex Grey’s artwork.

My image of soul feels very electric indeed.

But recently, I have been conceiving no soul.  Sometime over the last few weeks I had felt negatively ~ and in this downer phase I know I’d “lost” my soul; I couldn’t find it.  I couldn’t find that love, the ever-illuminating energy always at the core of my being.  I’d like to believe it’s always there.  But when I couldn’t find that soul/love, I was so sad.

That relentlessly illuminating light was nowhere to be found.

However, I had a new image in my mind; and it was hollowness ~ something my brain had bookmarked from a Zelda video game: alive, electric-orange surrounding some black, liquid, magnetic emptiness.  I felt like this void was inside my body; or rather was the inside of my body…

And so I dug Anatman [which is Mahayana teaching in Buddhism] – that I have no soul.

I have so vividly thought/felt that soul was Buddha-Nature: silent and omniscient as can be – ever enlightened; and that everything has it.  NOW, I have been speculating that soul is that void in which I could find no soul.  In this case, soul would have to be nothing, and nothingness.  In this nothingness must be the omniscient, ever-loving, enlightened Buddha being – which still can be found within everything.

As I have written before, we can get into this divine emptiness through choice activities in which we can lose ourselves.

Regardless, I can say with distinct images popping up that soul is nothing, but it really doesn’t make me happy.  It doesn’t make me unhappy, however…

Nothing has really changed from before, it’s just that I have complicated personal spiritual affairs!

To contact Stevenson Valentor, email him at svalentor@luc.edu.

Photo courtesy of Associated Press/ Karel Navarro

By Megan Niedringhaus

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

Hey party people,

I’m going to tell you a story. When I was in second grade, I couldn’t WAIT to make my First Communion. You get this huge party, you get to wear a fancy dress, and every card you get it loaded with money (you also get a zillion crucifixes and saint books, but no one cares about that when you’re seven). Throughout our preparation for our First Communion, we learned about how Jesus was the Bread of Life, and if we eat his bread and drink his blood, we’ll never hunger or thirst again. Being the smart cookie that I was, I understood that the Franzia and wafers on the altar were transformed into Jesus’ body and blood during Mass.

Seven year-olds tend to have a very literal sense of things. So, I automatically assumed I would literally never be hungry or thirsty again after my First Communion. Throughout the couple months before the Big Day, I came to the conclusion that I was the only reason my Mom kept food in the house, and that all the dinners we ate together as a family were solely for my benefit, and my mom, dad and sister didn’t actually need to eat, because they were never hungry since they received communion. I think I told my mom she never needed to go to the grocery store again because I would never hunger or thirst. I’m fairly certain she just looked at me like I was crazy.

You can imagine my disappointment when I found myself hungry a couple hours after Mass ended.

You might be wondering what this story has to do with faith and spirituality. As hilarious as this anecdote is, I think it reflects a key component to an honest, fulfilling faith life: living with a childlike faith. See, children don’t question things the way adults do. Someone tells them Jesus loves us and God forgives our sins and that’s that. They never question if they deserve His unconditional love; and they just trust that God, like Santa Claus, is real. Where in the journey of growing up do we lose this? How much richer would our lives be if we all honestly believed that no matter how badly we did on that midterm, how we treated our friend during an argument, or where we’ve failed in our lives, God still loves us unconditionally? When do we start believing the lie that we’re unworthy, not good enough? Think of how much simpler our relationships would be. When you fight with your childhood best friend, you’re mad for about five minutes and then you get over it and play house.

Maybe we could all benefit to take a page out of our second-grade selves, and try to live with a childlike faith.

**If you want to read more about this, check out the book Dangerous Wonder: The Adventure of Childlike Faith.

Photo courtesy of Flickr/ armin_vogel: http://www.flickr.com/photos/63019370@N06/

By Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

I got the chance to visit a beautiful church in Oak Park last week for an evening of Taizé prayer. I didn’t actually know what that meant on the way there, so I did some research when I got home. (To clarify, that means I searched “Taizé” on Wikipedia.) It turns out the Taizé Community is an ecumenical Christian brotherhood, which means that its members represent many different denominations of Christianity. All of them, though, endorse one, unified Christian church. This focus on inclusivity and acceptance is evident in their mission: to be living examples of justice and to spread peace through prayer. There are about 100 members of the Taizé Community, all of whom lead monastic lifestyles. Their original site in France, where they reside to this day, is now a hugely popular pilgrimage destination, and their meditative prayer is imitated in multiple places around the world.

Even though I was unaware of those things during the service, I felt them. I, alongside a couple hundred of my closest friends, sang short hymns and chants in a repetitive fashion, interrupted only by a reading of scripture and a spoken prayer of the people. It was gorgeous, and strangely eerie at the same time. My favorite part was the candle lighting in the middle. I mean, let’s admit it: there’s something downright mystical about candles. It’s like they make whatever it is you’re doing more official. As we sang, we walked to the center of the sanctuary and stuck our candles into these giant, circular dishes of sand. It looked like we had put a bunch of birthday cakes around the altar. I noticed, as the service went on, that each candle was burning differently than the ones around it. Some stood stick straight and others were tilted. Some were collecting weird tumors of melting wax while others didn’t seem to drip at all. The flames on most of them were very small, barely flickering, while a few were bright blue and going strong. What a convenient metaphor for all of us who were there that night! I’m sure that we were all coming into worship from different places, from different lives. I’m sure that we were all in different states of mind that night, despite being in the same pews. And I’m sure that we were all experiencing the service in different ways. But somehow we pulled ourselves together, and something spiritual happened. It looks like inclusivity and love are the things that will set a spark in everyone’s soul, which is an important thing to remember here at Loyola, a “home to all faiths.”

Cudahy Stacks, floor 3, Photo by Maddie Johnston

by Maddie Johnston

Chameleon Spirituality Blogger

My roommate introduced me to a song the other day, and now I wait until she leaves the apartment so that I can play it on repeat for obnoxious amounts of time, hiding from her how obsessed with it I truly am. It’s called “Girl in the War” by Josh Ritter, and it opens like this:

Paul said to Peter, “You know all those words we wrote

were just the rules of the game, and the rules are the first to go.

And now talking to God is Laurel begging Hardy for a gun.

I’ve got a girl in the war, man, I wonder what it is we’ve done.”

Just last week, there was a huge colloquium on campus celebrating the 50^th anniversary of the opening of the Vatican II Council, arguably one of the most important settings in which the Catholic church has expressed its views on, and position in, modern society. Vatican II is a great example of those “rules of the game” that Josh references in his charming, understated baritone. Mainline religions need that kind of structure and those definitive guidelines to function and to support the massive number of people who identify with them. For example, I’m Lutheran, and if I ever have a question about my beliefs, chances are good that there is an official, denomination-sanctioned church document or a piece of liturgy that I can reference to find an answer. But sometimes I wonder: is that an entirely good thing? Where do we, or should we, draw the line with regard to the human expression of the divine? Ironic as it is for me to say in a blog post, I think it’s dangerous to assume that we can put everything about God, or any higher power, into writing. When I’m walking to class and I look out on the lake, I can’t find words to describe how I’m feeling or why I’m feeling it…I just know that, for that split second, I’m with God. I fear that, too often, people are intimidated by all of the language and written tradition that accompanies religion, because it’s complicated! Much of it is outdated and hard to understand, and as a result, people are turned off to the idea of worship.

I’m a theology major, so I’m surrounded by this written tradition all of the time. It’s what I like; it’s what I do. But I still maintain, with complete confidence, that we need to get our noses out of our books, our scrolls, our creeds, to have a healthy and balanced spiritual journey. What’s the point of studying God and understanding God if you’re not going to get to see how your faith in God plays out in the real world? I’m so happy to be writing for the Chameleon, and I don’t have a set agenda in mind for this column yet, but I hope that, if nothing else, you can find something in it that will speak to you on a personal level and remind you of something that moved, or is still moving, your soul. I hope that, every day, you will challenge yourself in your faith, or lack thereof, without limiting yourself strictly to text.

http://youtu.be/paEySDHtEGs

Photo By Matt Gillis/The Chameleon. “…Soul is silent, it doesn’t breathe; as such, it needs nothing external to feed or otherwise find it.”

By Stevenson Valentor
Chameleon Staff Writer 

We, as living beings, need external, physical resources to maintain ourselves. The first necessity that comes to my mind is eating. We indeed need food to supply our body the proteins and nutrients that can’t be self-produced. Is the soul ever hungry, though? Does it breathe, eat, excrete? Is it a flower that needs to be watered all the time so it doesn’t die?

I think soul is silent, it doesn’t breathe; as such, it needs nothing external to feed or otherwise find it. It needs not anything; we need it, we have to realize it. Seek not externally food for soul, nor to find soul itself.  Within, within, within, within…

Buddy Adam last night was looking too hard to satisfy himself through consumption (and he found it indeed).  ‘Tis now why I can dig the cliché “Money doesn’t buy happiness.” Money is spent to purchase external things, yielding temporary happiness.

Immutable, fixed happiness is soul ~ it is that soul which is to make us happy; and it is our activities of choice which may allow us to forget our contrived, accumulated selves to remember that soul who we are made of.

We can totally be convinced that all of our ideas, clothes, choices, and preferences are “us/ourselves.”  They may be; if it is the case that those aforementioned things (clothes, etc.) lead us to forget ourselves.

Forgetting ourselves, and living/breathing/acting by that soul is had by participating in ever-fleeting, yet ever-permanent, immortal action. This divine action of which I speak is unique to each individual.

Everybody has great passion for a certain (or many!) action(s). Performing this action (whether it be basketballing, guitar strumming, poetry writing, math problem completion, dish washing, conversing, apple picking…) yields peak consciousness, when performed optimally.  This peak consciousness, the utter empty void our minds return to through “zen-ing” into the zone, is how I suggest (for today) we find our selves.

Seek not a thing external for happiness; improve yourself and lose yourself in your action of choice.

To contact Stevenson Valentor, email him at svalentor@luc.edu.

Photo taken from Forbes.com. Students attending Loyola will find themselves in a diverse campus environment.

By Michael Lechowicz
Chameleon Staff Writer 

I don’t know about you, maybe it is just me, but it seems like we are slowly sacrificing our unique diversity as a culture in America.

Where our parents and grandparents espoused the idea of uniqueness and individuality, we, the younger and less rebellious generation, seem to be collectivizing social interactions at an uncomfortable pace.

Maybe it is the fact we now have one of the the lowest social mobility rates of any developed nation.

Maybe it is just Loyola, proud of its wealthy and homogeneous Catholic heritage.

Or perhaps it’s Marxism and the internet.

Who knows? At any rate, homogeneity of any sort is repulsive.

Does our LGBTQ community truly feel welcome?

Can the College Republicans freely debate them if they want to?

I am not taking a specific stance or arguing for any one of these issues. I am simply taking issue with the unspoken-of silence of seeming tolerance.

Our tolerance should be informed. The “other kids” should not feel like they have to conform.

All of us worry about establishing our careers, building relationships and entering the working world.

Let’s not forget that this is college, though, and we are allowed to have a cornucopia of complex ideas.

To contact Michael Lechowicz, email him at mlechowicz@luc.edu.

Need a study break and want to catch up with the most popular articles, videos, and blogs we had this year? Here’s our mascot, Charlie, with his top 20 picks from this year! (In no particular order.)

Back in February, copy editor Andrew Kletzien wrote an opinion piece entitled “A Letter to Catholic Apologists.” The piece was a commentary regarding several sexual assault incidents involving children in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. Andrew’s article invoked much discussion from Catholic students on campus.

In March, staff writer Erika Vigen offered her opinion about the prospective USGA bottled water ban on the Loyola campus in her “environmentally friendly” commentary entitled “Forever Thirsty.”

Every Friday throughout the school year, our Friday Fashion Spectrum bloggers have kept you in the know with all the latest style tips, deals, and trends, as well as beauty/makeup/accessories advice, what NOT to wear, and where to shop on a college student budget.

In one of the very first articles published in the Chameleon, staff writer Barbara Crowley interviews several anons about their feelings towards the taboo subject of sex in “Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby.”

In February, staff writer Audrey Kelley produced one of our most popular multimedia pieces featuring different Loyola students and their opinions about feminism and what it means to be a feminist.

Every Tuesday throughout the school year, Chameleon blogger Audrey Kelley produced “Tattoo Tuesday,” a blog featuring Loyola students and their tattoo art. In the blog, Audrey also explores different aspects of tattoo culture. Readers are encouraged to interact with Audrey using the comment section of the website and share their own tattoo stories.

In February, copy editor Brittney Rooney explored the hidden meaning behind the “LGBTQA” acronym, and what each label of the acronym personally meant to those people who identify as said label.

Staff writer Barbara Crowley follows up with her “Let’s Talk About Sex” article by interviewing more anons for another article about the act of masturbation. Is doing the dirty with yourself really so dirty?

In March, LIFT-Chicago, a student organization at Loyola held its annual “Poverty Awareness Week.” Photo Editor Kevin Bautista spoke with Nick Passarelli, Public Relations Manager of the LIFT Uptown office to get an inside look at Poverty Awareness programming and the LIFT movement’s significance.

Staff writer Audrey Kelly produced another “environmentally friendly” video this semester, in which she interviews different Loyola students and the different ways they practice “going green” on campus.

Back in November, copy editor Andrew Kletzien writes a commentary about the Bible and its origins in the early history and spreading of Christianity and why what you hear may not always be what you believe.

In February, Chameleon staff writer Dimitri Plikas profiled Loyola student organization Cru, and took an in depth look at how the students who are involved in Cru “go forth and set the world on fire.”

In March, after finishing the mandatory online e-Toke checkup program, staff writer Paul Gusiewski wrote a commentary piece concerning Loyola’s stance on marijuana and its “anti-marijuana message.”

Following copy editor Andrew Kletzien’s article about the recent outbreak of sex abuse scandals in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, Loyola student (and Catholic) Emily Sammon penned this commentary.

In February, Photo Editor Kevin Bautista profiled The Center for Urban Environmental Research and Policy (CUERP). Kevin goes inside the heart of Loyola’s green initiative, and explores the different ways CUERP fuels the university’s drive for sustainability.

In March, Multimedia Editors Sarah Murray and Marie Janzen produced a video entitled “An Inside Look at Loyola’s Dining Cuisines and Services.” Several Loyola students were interviewed about their opinions of Loyola’s dining services.

In April, Editor-in-Chief Kim De Guzman wrote about her experiences using the popular new dating website, OkCupid. She explores the website’s different features and the benefits of online dating on OkCupid.

On Wednesdays throughout the school year, an anonymous Chameleon staff writer published the “Not-So-Whisper-Wednesdays” blog, a sex blog about…well, all things sex.

In honor of our namesake reptile, in February, Multimedia Editor Sarah Murray went on an adventure to a reptile store in Evanston to find a real live chameleon (YES, A REAL CHAMELEON) and learn about it.

In April, His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama visited the Loyola campus to deliver a speech on “Interfaith Collaboration.” Editor-in-Chief Kim De Guzman recapped His Holiness’ speech and students’ reactions to it.

Photo By Kim De Guzman/The Chameleon. On Thursday, April 26, 2012, His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, visited Loyola University Chicago's Lake Shore Campus for a lecture on interfaith collaboration.

By Kim De Guzman
Editor-in-Chief

On Thursday, April 26, the Loyola University Chicago campus was abuzz with the excitement of welcoming a world-famous spiritual leader to campus.

His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso visited campus to present a lecture about “Interfaith Collaboration” in Loyola’s Joseph J. Gentile Arena.

There were two programs: a morning session and an afternoon session. The morning program, although also held on the Lake Shore Campus, was sponsored and organized by the Tibet Center of Chicago.

The afternoon program was sponsored and organized by Loyola.

Anticipation for His Holiness’ arrival to Loyola has been slowly building up for weeks, ever since tickets went on sale last month on March 26. Tickets to the event were sold out to undergraduate and graduate students within 24 hours, leaving no tickets available for faculty, staff, or alumni to purchase.

By noon on Thursday, there were three long lines of Loyola students, faculty and others waiting to get into Gentile. When students finally reached the front of the arena, they were greeted by an airport style security system.

Before the program officially started at 1:30 PM, there were different theatre, music, and dance performances from several interfaith campus organizations and groups, including the Muslim Student Association, Hillel, and the Buddhist Student Organization.

Before officially starting the speech, His Holiness was given an honorary Loyola degree, Doctor of Humane Letters, honoris causa. The degree was presented by President and CEO Michael J. Garanzini S.J. and Frank Fernell, PhD, the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences.

After the degree (and a red Loyola golf visor, which His Holiness was ecstatic to receive) was presented, it was then that His Holiness took the stage.

“I am very happy to have the opportunity to talk in a Catholic university,” he said.

The 40 minute speech centered on the ultimate source of happiness, the importance of fostering discussion between religiously diverse groups and people, and the focus of compassion and understanding.

“The ultimate source of happiness is your peace of mind, your inner peace,” he said to a crowd of almost 4,000. “The transformation of the mind is not that simple. The mind is formless but difficult to control.”

After His Holiness’ lecture presentation, several pre-selected Loyola students had an opportunity to ask questions in a Q-and-A session. However, not all students were able to ask their question due to the program’s time restraints.

Several questions included: “Who has influenced or inspired you in your life?” “What advice would you give to someone who wants to be an advocate for peace?” and “What are your views on globalization and the fluidity of modern culture?”

Many students who attended the event were honored that they had the opportunity to see the Dalai Lama.

“His insight was really inspirational,” says Dylan Gilmore, 21, a senior political science and international studies double major. “He had a really good message and as human beings, I think we lose sight of that message sometimes, so it was good to hear that perspective.”

Overall, audience members say they enjoyed themselves.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and it was a really awe-inspiring one,” says Matthew Morris, 20, a junior criminal justice major. “His message was perfect for our university, and I think it’s really cool that we can call him an “Honorary Rambler” now too.”

Kim De Guzman is the editor-in-chief. She can be reached at editorinchief@luchameleon.com.

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/photos/wtlphotos.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger

My cousin made his First Communion this weekend. As I packed into the car with three kids and my aunt and uncle and drove to St. Louis, I spent most of the five hour drive lamenting the fact that I was missing my sorority’s formal, and was instead heading home to stay in an empty house and take pictures all day.

But when I walked into church today, something inside me changed. Granted, a large part of this sudden change in emotion was due to the fact that I was back in the church where I discovered both my faith and who I wanted to be. But there was something else, something I couldn’t quite place. And then the second graders began processing in. Little boys in blue sport jackets and ties (and one girl who 86-ed the dress–right on) and little girls in dresses, veils and perfect curls filed past like extras from a Madeleine movie. When I caught my cousin’s eye, his face lit up with pride and anticipation. As Mass began, I was filled with this overwhelming joy and sense of calm. Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Thoughts of high heels and floor length gowns slipped away for a while.

Some might call it simply the joy of innocence, but what I felt was more than just seeing how happy my cousin and his classmates were. It was the joy of seeing someone so close to me experience a sacrament for the first time, and knowing that they’re an even bigger part of the Church, and our community, than they were before. And honestly…what could be better?

Catch “Sunday Traveler” when it is published every Sunday.

Photo By Hannah Lutz/The Chameleon.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger 

I found this amazing TED talk the other day about vulnerability and shame. If you’re like me, I’ve always associated the two together. Being vulnerable is a sign of weakness, and being weak makes us ashamed. The tricky thing about shame is that it isolates us more than any other emotion in the spectrum of human feeling.

But something the speaker said really struck me. Shame controls us in two ways: one, by saying “you’re not good enough” when we want to do something radical, something new. If we find a way to silence that voice, another one comes in and says “who are you to think you can even try.” I think that’s really remarkable to think about. The way we give these little voices so much power, how does that even happen? Where is that OTHER little voice that shouts over shame saying, “Screw those guys! You can do whatever you decide you can do!” That other voice is faith. And faith is there, but so often we allow ourselves to be swallowed by our shame, our fears and our misconception of vulnerability instead of listening to hope and belief.

That’s what I took away from those forty minutes. Being vulnerable isn’t the same as being weak. If anything, it takes an immense amount of courage to step forward with our failures, doubts and experiences that distance us from both God and one another. But ironically, every time we hear someone share a story of something (addiction, grief, depression, doubt, guilt) do we think of them as weak? No, we’re overwhelmed by the courage of the individual who can so (seemingly) fearlessly come forward with the imperfect parts of who they are. So why don’t we give ourselves the same credit? Why do we choose to listen to the voice of shame instead of one of hope, faith, and courage?

So this week, I challenge you to be vulnerable. Even if it’s something as small as an apology or honestly telling your professor why you didn’t write your paper. And every time you think “vulnerability,” replace that word with “courage” instead. I guarantee you it will be a game-changer.

If you have a good experience with sharing your imperfection, or with being vulnerable, please let us at the Chameleon know! Your triumphs are our triumphs.

As always, peace and love.

Megan Niedringhaus’s “Sunday Traveler” blog is published every Sunday.

Photo By Emily Bruns/The Chameleon. The Jesus-as-myth theory positions Jesus as a figure constructed from several mythologies.

By Dimitri Plikas
Chameleon Staff Writer

This article address Andrew Kletzien’s article, where he claims Bryan Flemming’s documentary “The God Who Wasn’t There” is a must-see.

I say it is a must-see for entirely different reasons.

Granted, it highlights a number of key objections to Christianity that I will address.

But it also needs to be said that for someone who has not thoroughly done his research, Flemming has created a film that more so serves to whet the appetite as a sensational, exaggerated, one-sided representation of several issues and objections to Christianity rather than an open and shut case.

If Flemming geared his film toward Christian and non-Christian alike, he should have included both sides.

Instead, “The God Who Wasn’t There” has the feeling of a relatively higher quality homemade movie rather than an airtight assault on Christianity.

According to Andrew, however, this documentary, if seen, would cause us to “have a national conversation about a topic which would change, and perhaps discredit, much of the mainstream religious debate.”

I disagree, so let’s dive in and see what this documentary says and does not say.

As a former “fundamentalist” Christian, Flemming certainly raises good objections. One of his biggest critiques is that we have gaps and oddities in our knowledge about early Christianity.

He alleges that we have a four decade gap between the crucifixion of Jesus and the writing of the first gospel.

For the sake of space, though, I hope to address the historical, textual case in the future.

Flemming—and Andrew in another previous article—go on to assert the idea that, in Andrew’s words, “What Paul knew about Christianity came from what appears to be a schizophrenic apparition on the road to Damascus.”

Unfortunately they end it at that.

They both fail to mention the fact that Paul met John, Peter (Cephas)—one of Jesus’s three closest disciples and also the first of the twelve disciples to acknowledge Jesus as the messiah (Matt. 16:16)—and James, the brother of Jesus, in Jerusalem (Gal. 1:18-19; 2).

Also, James, Peter, and John accepted Paul’s authority (Gal. 2:9). From a historical standpoint, it would make sense that Paul would have picked up some significant insight into the life and ministry of Jesus from his own disciples, family, and friends.

Next, let me expound on a curious theory on how Paul viewed Jesus. Some Jesus-as-myth theorists claim that he never even considered Jesus to be a historical figure, let alone a recent contemporary of his, because he did not write much about the life and ministry of Jesus.

Some say Paul thought Jesus to be a sort of cosmic savior figure from the distant past.

In many ways, the Jesus-as-myth theory is a ludicrous anachronism put to serious scholarship only in the last two hundred years or so.

It assumes that early Judeo-Christians cherished pagan myths to the point where this Jesus figure somehow sprouted out of yet another anachronistic belief that Jewish culture also cherished writing and distributing fictional stories.

Jewish culture was committed to keeping strict records and extensive textual accounts of its own history and genealogy.

When words were put to paper, it was not to mass market the newest Tom Clancy novel or to pen a new fantastical, heroic, Disney love story, let alone a story written to praise the paganism that the Hebrews outright rejected.

Rather, they used writing to record more earnest works. Even the very fact that writing materials and literary education were hard to come by reduces the chances of fringe theologies creeping into Judaism on such a great scale. The learned who penned their texts would recognize such foreign thoughts.

Additionally, the Jewish people were deeply monotheistic. How do we come to the belief that deeply monotheistic Jewish culture would have permitted polytheistic, pagan stories to seep into their theology to the point where an alleged mythical savior could eventually take root?

Legendary Jesus theorists seem to overlook a particular problem in their argument, namely that these Jews would not have abandoned their strictly monotheistic upbringing on a whim to commit blasphemy in their religion by following a lowly messiah who claimed to be God and who guaranteed persecution for doing so (Matt. 24:9) if this messiah was not who he claimed to be.

It must also be noted that the Jewish people were expecting a conqueror messiah, not a humble Jew who rode donkeys and let himself be crucified.

What Jew would betray his or her deeply-rooted religious beliefs and submit his or her life over to this messiah if he were not a historical figure whose claims about being divine were true?

There must have been something pretty spectacular about Jesus for his people to believe him.

On top of that, the Jesus movement spread so rapidly in the ancient world that it only goes to show how eagerly Jews and Gentiles adopted this new theology of Jesus as God.

Why would Jews raised to reject anything other than their traditional monotheistic beliefs so eagerly accept Jesus as their messiah if they had any suspicion that Jesus was a pagan-inspired myth?

It would be as if Americans nationwide and in droves willingly gave up their long-held beliefs in individuality, rights, and freedoms during the Cold War because one American man decided to spend a couple of years preaching about the truth and beauty of the Soviet way of life.

Via this analogy, I am neither saying that Jesus created something worse nor am I making any political statement whatsoever.

I am simply saying that it would have been absurd and on a certain level “blasphemous” to the American people for them to not only have given up their previous ideology of rights and freedoms willingly, but to also submit to the words of one man, let alone a man who supposedly never existed in the first place.

First-century Jews objected to the idea of men claiming divinity. They went so far as to purge their society of blasphemous symbols, including demanding to rid their currency of any human representation as it violated their second commandment.

How much more would they reject a man explicitly claiming to be God himself?

Now, in the case of the apostle Paul, why would he undergo such a radical change from initially persecuting Christians to becoming inarguably one of Christianity’s most influential believers?

Remember, he was a “Hebrew of Hebrews,” a Pharisee and not just a layman, which makes his conversion even more peculiar and counterintuitive to the Jesus-as-myth theory.

He went from overseeing Christians die to putting his comfortable life to death…for a mythical Jesus? I think not.

To pose the possibility, that if there were a God, I believe there would be stories, legends, and myths pointing in his direction.

If a yearning for a relationship with the divine was so deeply rooted in our hearts—and not because it was some naturalistic, physiological, neurological conundrum involved with the evolution of our species—I would think there would be expressions of this desire revealed in similar ways in all aspects of human cultures.

In many ways the legendary Jesus theorists are beating a dead horse. Their theory has largely been debunked by scholars.

I am defending the “traditional” side, namely that Jesus was a historical figure whose claims about himself were true. He was not another Mithras, Osiris, Dionysus, or Flying Spaghetti Monster.

So when Andrew claims that anybody “that admires the virtue of reason and rationality are forced into this conclusion” that the Gospels were conveniently spliced together as a hodge-podge potpourri of stories meant to justify an ancient culture’s beliefs about “a divine spaghetti monster in the sky foreshadowing the sending of his son,” I contend that reason and rationality should take him in the opposite direction.

I disagree with the claims by Dawkins, Harris, and the like that religion and rationality are diametrically opposed. It is a false dichotomy.

I am still not convinced of Andrew’s sufficient reasoning through the evidence.

To contact Dimitri Plikas, email him at dplikas@luc.edu. 

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/photos/mikebaird.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger

No one likes doubt. It’s seen as a sign of weakness, lack of resolution, or simply unacceptable. Doubt is a scary thing. It creeps up on us, and leads us to wonder if what we believed to be true actually is.

Doubt is scary not necessarily because we question our beliefs, but because it’s so isolating. Doubt makes us feel as though we are the only one with questions, the only one who is unsure. When we doubt, it seems as though we are the only one, like we’re standing away from everyone else, watching as those around us seem so sure of who they are and what they believe.

But the key to controlling our doubt is not letting it control us. The thing is, doubt can be liberating, in some ways. Without doubt, it would become exceedingly difficult to grow in our faith, and to truly understand why we believe what we do (or don’t). The difficult part is knowing when to simply be okay with experiencing a period of doubt, and remember that everyone doubts their beliefs, their relationships, and even themselves at one point or another. Doubt is universal.

The author and playwright John Patrick Shanley describes doubt and the solidarity that comes with it perfectly. “Doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty. When you are lost, you are not alone.”

That thought is so striking to me. Even when we are lost, we aren’t alone. Even if we feel all is lost, and everyone has abandoned us, perhaps even God, we are not alone.

We are never alone.

Megan Niedringhaus’s “Sunday Traveler” blog is published every Sunday.

Photo By Anna Kebe/The Chameleon. The Apocypha contains texts that Christians decided not to include in the Bible.

By Andrew Kletzien
Chief Copy Editor

Beyond Belief Media and Bryan Flemming’s documentary, “The God Who Wasn’t There” is a must-see for those who are convinced there was, in fact, a historical Jesus. It is especially important for those who believe that this supposed character was undoubtedly divine in nature, the Son of God.

If those who spent an hour in Church on Sundays were to take one of those hours (which would be a mortal sin in Catholic teaching, condemnable by eternity in hell if not confessed) to watch a documentary which would challenge the very basis of their theology, we would have a national conversation about a topic which would change, and perhaps discredit, much of the mainstream religious debate.

Flemming begins with one of Christianity’s biggest gaffes, one that illustrates perfectly the state of the doctrine today. For centuries, the Church taught that the sun revolved around the earth, and it took much “kicking and screaming” to convince them otherwise. However, the point is that, despite what the Church taught, the earth did indeed revolve around the sun.

He outlines various “Christ” figures that have come as a result of Christian teaching. We have Charles Manson, who inspired his followers to kill 11 people. We have Pat Robertson, who tells his followers that the gays and lesbians brought on the terrible onslaught of innocent civilians on September 11, 2011. We have Dena Schlosser, who claimed to be told by God to cut her child’s arms off, and of course, she followed God, as the Church instructed her.

But of course, no Church will take credit for these people. But they will gladly take credit for the Mother Teresa’s of the world (one of the most overrated Christians the world has ever seen, likely credible for more deaths than the lives she saved).

We now have Fox News spewing hateful Islamophobic comments aimed at not just the Muslim terrorists, but Islam as a religion. The difference between their objection to Islam and mine, of course, is that they are claiming that Christianity reigns supreme over the “violent pseudo-religion,” while I claim that they’re all crocks.

Flemmings first main argument is the decades long gap between the life of the supposed Christ and the writing of the first Gospel: Mark. Everyone else seemed to have forgotten all about Jesus. But here’s the catch: Paul may not have even believed himself that Jesus was an actual historical figure.

What he knew about Jesus (a remarkably small amount) came from his vision of Jesus on the road to Damascus. Neither did any of the Gospel writers believe they were writing a historical account of what actually happened decades prior.

Robert M. Price, a fellow of the Jesus Seminar, notes that, historically, no one can argue the existence of Caesar Augustus. They can, however, dispute the necessary details of Christ’s existence. For one, no Jewish council would have met on Passover evening to condemn an accused blasphemer, as the Gospels suggest.

Pontius Pilate was also highly unlikely to have let go a known murderer, Barabbas, over Jesus. The Gospel of Peter (part of the Apocrypha, the texts Christians decided don’t conform to their preferred doctrine and are ignored completely) claims that Herod killed Jesus. He claims that these details of the story, which in a certain sense make a claim for the validity of the account, defy historical accuracy.

Barbara and David P. Mikkelson are with the Urban Legends Reference Pages and cite “glurge stories,” pieces of fiction written as fiction but that have taken on a life of reality. Alan Dundes then cites the characteristics of the hero pattern, as references in my prior article.

The very idea that Jesus’ story is not original is proof enough, at least for me, that the historical Jesus, in all likelihood, did not exist. People will point toward these stories and much of the Old Testament as prophecies.

I contend, with much more rationality, that the authors of these “Gospels” read these accounts and simply added to the collection, instead of there actually being a divine spaghetti monster in the sky foreshadowing the sending of his son, who happens to share most of his life story in common with famous, mythical heroes.

Anyone that admires the virtue of reason and rationality are forced into this conclusion.

As quoted in the documentary, Justin Martyr, a church father, was noted as saying, “When we say that Jesus Christ was produced without sexual union, was crucified and died, and rose again, and ascended to heaven, we propound nothing new or different from what you believe regarding those whom you call the sons of Jupiter.”

So there you have it folks, a leading church father, admitting openly that the story of Jesus Christ is nothing but a nice fairy tale to add to the exhaustive list of heroes who was born of a virgin, died, and rose after three days in order to save the universe from eternal damnation.

But of course, in all fairness, Martyr continues by saying, “For when they say that Dionysus rose again and ascended to heaven, is it not evident the devil has imitated the prophecy?” And so was born the easiest, most fraudulent claim the Church has ever made: that all the previous stories, which are mirror images of the Christ narrative, were concocted by this malevolent Satan to try to trick people.

How convenient. I guess the audience is just going to have to make up their own mind on that one.

Andrew Kletzien is the chief copy editor. He can be reached at akletzien@luc.edu.

Photo By Anna Kebe/The Chameleon. Andrew used the King James version of the Bible to do his analysis of Genesis, chapters one through five.

By Andrew Kletzien
Chief Copy Editor

[The following is an evaluation of chapters one through five of Genesis in King James’ version of the Bible from an atheist’s point of view.]

Chapter 1: 

20-22: And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven. And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good. And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth.

* Even the Bible has something right, that sea animals came before land animals. There seems to be some sort of evolutionary process involved in this creation story, even though it came from ancient creation stories to fit the religion of the time.

26: And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.

* If God made us in His image, does that mean God is material? Do the Mormons have it right? What about us is “in the image of God?” Did He create us equal to Him so that He is only powerful as the most powerful human?

* This passage does not incite stewardship over the earth, but it specifically says dominion over the earth. This is the root of the many people who believe that we can exploit the land and its resources and harm and injure animals in inhumane ways.

27: So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

* Catholics tend to highlight the differences of the sexes, the mutual exclusiveness of the genders. How then, are both male and female made in the image of God? Is it only man that is made in the image of God, since he was created first? Is God masculine? Is this a hint of sexism?

28: And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

* Replenish? Was it somehow plentiful and then depleted? Were human beings not the only ones on the earth, or at least not the first ones? This may be evidence that the Bible actually does leave room for the existence of dinosaurs and a mass extinction of species across the earth.

Chapter 2:

3: And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made.

* Those Christians that do not posit that the universe was created in six 24-hour days must then identify the actual time it took to create the universe to calculate when the Sabbath day shall be observed. If it took 12 billion years to create the universe, and he took the last two off, then we should observe every Sunday but take off every 12 billion years?

* This seems to be an article that supports the fundamentalist approach to creation, as the commandment to keep holy the Sabbath day rests upon the idea that the earth was created in six 24-hour days.

5: And every plant of the field before it was in the earth, and every herb of the field before it grew: for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground.

* There is much confusion in this passage. Did all of the plants and animals exist before the earth? In this way are the Scientologists right, that we are older than the universe?

* Did the plants and the animals really not require rain? Did the writers of these texts understand the important role the sun plays in the development of diverse organisms? Even Plato recognizes this in the Republic, so why did these writers not understand that?

17: But the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

* Did God lie? Adam and Eve did not die after eating the fruit.

* Also, what is the purpose of the tree? Why create a tree that must not be touched, after having given dominion over the entire earth? What function did this tree serve?

23: And Adam said, This is not bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of man.

* Did the authors of this text not realize that man is begotten of woman? Is this another sexist article?

Chapter 3: 

4-5: And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.

* Christians claim that the serpent deceived Eve and convinced her to eat of the tree. Was He not telling the truth? God himself named the tree “The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil,” and the serpent simply admitted that it would do just that if eaten. This is a simple denial of truth, and disrespect for the virtue that is truth.

8: And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden.

* Once again, do the Mormons have it right? Was God an actual man, a material being that could walk among the trees and not see all in front of him?

9: And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou?

* Is God not omniscient?

16: Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiple thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.

* Thus, the pain that women must face in childbirth is made to be their own fault. Sexism?

* The husband is painted as the master of the wife—yet another sexist article.

20: And Adam called his wife’s name Eve; because she was the mother of all living.

* So here we have a contradiction. Is the woman the mother of all living, although Adam was living and created before Eve?

22: And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever.

* When debating with atheists, Christians often make the claim that we have no source for morals. We ate of the tree of that exact knowledge, and God admits that we now have this model. Claiming that human beings cannot know morality without the further books of the Bible is a complete contradiction.

* Is this article claiming that the human race will live forever? Or Adam and Eve will live forever? Is this speaking of eternal life after physical death, or the life of the human beings being eternal? What is to be made of the known end of our species, after the sun explodes or the Andromeda galaxy collides with ours?

24: So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.

* Cherubims, being the second order of angels, often with a link to ancient Babylonian gods.

* Does this mean the cherubims failed at protecting the garden? Where is the garden today? The area that many think once existed is now a desert.

Chapter 4: 

3-5: And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord. And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering: But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell.

* Cain is a tiller of the ground, and Abel is a shepherd. Why then, if they both brought fruits of their labor, did God not find Cain’s offering acceptable? It is often taught that Cain’s sacrifice was not of his best, but there is no scriptural evidence for this. Also, why must we sacrifice our best?

* Also, is God still walking amongst the trees of the earth? Did Cain and Abel bring it directly to him while on earth, and if not, when did god retreat into the heavens?

14: Behold, thou hast driven me out this day from the face of the earth; and from thy face shall I be hid; and I shall be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth and it shall come to pass, that every one that findeth me shall slay me.

* There is quite a bit of confusion here. Is Cain’s action what drove God from the face of the earth? Again, it seems to point to the fact that the Mormons have it right: God is a physical man with great power that left the earth.

* What does it mean that anyone that findeth the lord shall slay him?

15: And the Lord said unto him, Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him.

* Who would find Cain and slay him? The only people left on the earth would be Adam, Eve, and Cain. Also, who procreated with whom from there? Did Cain reproduce with his mother? With whom did Cain have children?

17: And Cain knew his wife; and she conceived, and bare Enoch: and he builded a city, and called the name of the city, after the name of his son, Enoch.

* Who exactly is his wife and where did she come from?

19: And Lamech took unto him two wives: the name of the one was Adah, and the name of the other Zillah.

* Why do we not get the names of the wives of Enoch, Irad, Mehujael, or Methusael? Did they copulate with Eve? Why are only men found important?

* Here seems to be a Biblical source for polygamy.

26: And to Seth, to him also there was born a son; and he called his name Enos: then began men to call upon the name of the Lord.

* Okay, I have lots to say here. The life expectancy rate among the first Homo sapiens was remarkably low, so if this is meant to be chronologically in order, then Adam and Eve should have never made it through all of the generations that are said to have existed.

* If it’s not meant to be chronologically logical, then Seth was born soon after Cain murdered Abel. And only then did people begin to call on the name of the Lord. But wait, Cain and Abel went to sacrifice to the Lord. Something doesn’t fit.

Chapter 5:

5: And all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years: and he died.

* So I have a question for my last question, but this doesn’t fit scientifically. Even if this all did happen six thousand years ago, life expectancy was in the high teens to the low twenties. And Adam lived to be 130?! Do people really take this stuff literally?!

Notes on the rest of the chapter: c’mon. People seriously take this stuff literally?!

Andrew is the chief copy editor. He can be reached at akletzien@luc.edu.

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/anspach.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger 

Saturday night. 2:00 AM. No, I didn’t just get home from the bar, or some crazy party filled with beer pong and sloppy pictures. I’ve been doing homework. Or, more precisely, figuring out my future months in advance. The Spring 2013 Student Teaching Application stares me down from my computer screen, that little black line flashing where my personal statement waits to be created.

To those of you who aren’t in the School of Education, student teaching your final semester is essentially a fifteen-week job interview. If you do well and things happen at the right time, you might find yourself with a job offer at the end of the academic year. You might meet an administrator who remembers you seven months down the line when the American literature teacher breaks both her legs line dancing or skiing, or suddenly decides he wants to focus on his bartender career. If you play your cards right, pick the right schools, and those schools in turn pick you, you might just land your dream job.

Two hours into my application I find myself stressing over exams in May, tests for my teaching license, and potential states I could transfer my license in, should I want to move away from Chicago at some point in the vague future. And then it hit me: what about everything that happens BEFORE next spring? Where do I get time to still be a “college kid?”

Sometimes we all get so caught up in the next step, in the anticipation and the pressure of what we’re supposed to do, what needs to be planned, to-do lists we need to make, things to accomplish. We get stuck in this unending merry-go-round of things we can do to pad our resume, make us more marketable, more likable, that we forget to simply live. We spend so much time thinking about the next thirty steps in front of us, we forget about the one we’re taking right now.

I’m not saying you should give up every plan or dream you have and stare at the sky all day every day, but we all just need to relax. Enjoy the path we’re on now, not the next three we’ll take after graduation. All my relatives tell me college is the best time of your life…so why does it feel like everyone is trying to rush me through it? Why is it so preposterous that I take a dance class even though…gasp! I’ve already fulfilled my art core requirement!

Try taking a step back…or maybe three steps back. Take a deep breath, and look at the world around you for what it is right now, not what it might be in five years, or where you might be in ten.

Just relax….and enjoy the journey.

Megan Niedringhaus’s “Sunday Traveler” blog is published every Sunday.

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/photos/22964099@N05.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger

The idea of control is an interesting concept to me. It’s a state of being that seems to be really extreme, very black and white, if you will. I feel like someone is either totally in control, or completely out of control. In my mind, what that boils down to is this: we’re either in charge of everything in our lives…or we’re a hot mess who doesn’t know which way is up.

Let’s look at a scenario. My first semester sophomore year here at Loyola was one of those times you would basically call a semi-midlife crisis. I had just gotten out of a relationship, my friend group was shifting, I was moving out of my apartment, and generally dealing with things way beyond my 19 year-old mental capacity.

I felt like everything was a spinning plate, and I was doing everything I could to keep them from crashing to the floor. I was trying to control everything, struggling to find a way to keep everything intact and the way it was before. I couldn’t fathom the idea of having to ask for an extension on a paper, talk to my more than difficult roommate about moving out, or having to operate in a friend circle where I had to see someone who had lied to me and broken my heart on a daily basis.

When all of this seemed unbearably overwhelming, I realized something. I was trying to control everything, down to the minutest detail, instead of bringing my problems to God and my prayer life. I was trying to manage things I couldn’t fully understand, let alone control, instead of accepting that sometimes things get too big for us to handle on our own.

I’ve realized that it’s okay to not control every aspect of my life, and especially that it’s not possible to do that. I did things I’ve never allowed myself to do before. I got an extension on my paper, and I asked for help from friends, professionals, and most importantly, from God. And you know what the craziest part was? The world didn’t end. No one walked up to me and stamped a giant “Incapable” across my forehead. It was okay to ask for help, and by relinquishing my control I realized that no one can ever be completely on top of things, and everyone needs someone to push them (or maybe drag them) up the metaphorical mountain of life’s challenges. But what I realized through all these challenges, is that I can’t do anything if I don’t let God into the equation. No one can do anything alone.

So loosen up your death grip on how much you control things, and live a little. As the Jesuits say: Let go, and let God.

As always, peace and love.

Megan Niedringhaus’s “Sunday Traveler” blog is published every Sunday.

By Emily Sammon

Two weeks ago, Andrew Kletzien wrote an article outlining his thoughts on the sex abuse scandal in the Catholic Church, and particularly in his local diocese, the Archdiocese of Milwaukee.

As a Catholic, I would like to offer a response to Mr. Kletzien’s opinions with my own views on the matter.

Before I address this issue further, however, I would like to apologize, to the best of my ability, for the scandal apologists. It is true that there are people in the Catholic Church, both among the clergy and the laity, that refuse to address abuse seriously. While I understand the inclination to defend the integrity of our faith community, I nonetheless hold that this is a deplorable attitude to take toward the ruining of thousands of lives over multiple decades.

The fact is that many priests, bishops, and parish communities were complicit in the covering up of the criminal actions of several clergy. Some of the stories of depravity are beyond comprehension (consider, for example, the extraordinary, horrifying case of Milwaukee priest Lawrence Murphy, who molested an estimated 200 children at St. John School for the Deaf in the early 1970s).

Catholics must condemn injustice wherever it is found. In this situation that means admitting that many of our leaders have handled reports of sexual abuse horribly, and in the process damaged the lives of victims and their families, as well as the trust of the laity and the reputation of faithful clergy.

I grew up in the Archdiocese of Chicago, which has been surrounded by allegations for years. I learned that a significant group of priests had failed to live up to their duties as spiritual leaders before I was even old enough to understand the sexual act. In fact, I lived for many years under the assumption that the priesthood was largely synonymous with religious hypocrisy.

This was reinforced through my high-school years, when a former Jesuit head of my school, Loyola Academy, was accused of inappropriate relations with a minor during his presidency. I was convinced that the Church was doing absolutely nothing to remedy these trends of abuse. However, further research on my part has revealed that my conclusion lacked full understanding of policy developments over the past two decades.

Mr. Kletzien’s opening sentence, which states that “Fifty-eight men have been accused of molesting or raping young children in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee since 2003,” is factually correct, but also potentially misleading.

I think it is important to note that this does not mean that fifty-eight new crimes have been committed and exposed in the past decade, but rather that a 2003 report documented fifty-eight cases of abuse committed up until that point in time.

I make note of this not out of an attempt to diminish the severity of these crimes, which will remain disgusting and inexcusable for all time, by the distance of years. Rather, I want to underscore the fact that most of these crimes were committed within a certain period of time.

Research done by the John Jay College of Criminal Justice of the City of New York confirms that there was a spike in abuse between 1950 and 1970 that was not seen before and has not been seen since: during those decades abuse rates increased sixfold. Priests ordained before 1960 began to commit crimes much more frequently during that decade, and those ordained after 1960 began displaying inappropriate behavior much more quickly after ordination.

The Jay report suggests that this rise in abuse cases during the 1960s and 1970s was influenced by cultural factors in American society. As the personal and social ideas of sexuality radically changed during these decades, personal formation practices regarding sexuality in seminaries remained the same—that is, close to nonexistent.

Most seminaries gave little consideration to the idea that many seminarians were not equipped with an in-depth understanding of the value of chastity or how to deal with their potential struggles with their sexuality.

Over time, materials for formation began to more fully address this issue. Seminaries also began to require psychological testing for their candidates and encouraged a less closed-off discussion of any potential sexual issues between seminarians and their personal advisors.

These changes to seminary practices appear to have effectively reversed abuse trends: beginning in the 1990s, abuse declined dramatically and remains much lower today. These changes are encouraging to me.

It shows that many clergy in the Catholic community have begun to treat the abuse issue, and also issues of human sexuality in general, with the respect and seriousness that they deserve. However, there are still many problems that persist, even as actual rates of abuse drop. Traditionally, the Church has maintained a justice system for its clergy that is separate from that of the civil authorities. When misused, this system allows for abuse to be perpetuated.

Bishops have also discouraged extensions on statutes of limitations for victims and, perhaps worst of all, encouraged personal reconciliation between abuser and victim.

This practice especially suggests a lack of understanding about the deep psychological implications of molestation for the victim (thankfully such practice appears to be on the wane). Beyond this, many reports of abuse from past decades undoubtedly remain untold and justice un-served.

These and related problems suggest that the administration of the Catholic Church still has a lot of work to do in its efforts to make amends with its victims and its larger flock.

This brings me to a final question I would like to address, namely: Why stay faithful to an organization that has failed so many in such despicable ways? In his article, Mr. Kletzien acknowledges his identity as a Democrat.

He then asks, “If I found out that over the span of 20 years the Democratic Party has hidden countless sex scandals involving young children (58 from one diocese, remember), I would immediately withdraw my support, without question and without hesitation.”

This is an interesting point. One response I can offer is that, indeed, many have decided to stop attending Mass and supporting the Church. These scandals have been a serious blow to congregations already weakened by distrust of Church authority. In some ways I cannot blame these people.

However—and I would like to make note of the weakness of Mr. Kletzien’s analogy here—the Catholic Church is not merely a social club, or a group I affiliate myself with because of shared political philosophy.

Rather, Catholicism is my religion, and my faith in its authority extends beyond the Church’s social and political realms. As Mr. Kletzein has been so kind to point out in scrupulous detail, the earthly Catholic Church is, most certainly, a load of sinners, some of us (much, much) more detestable than others.

However, we Catholics know that, despite this fact, despite the failings of our institution and the corruption of some of our leaders, we are still guided as a people by God’s Holy Spirit.

The atheists among my readers may be inclined to dismiss this as total bunk, but I am unashamed to declare this as my opinion on the matter as a practicing Catholic (and everyone must admit, regardless of whether Catholics actually maintain divine favor, we sure have a bad habit of surviving absolutely everything).

In conclusion: Do the majority of Catholics stand in opposition to abuse apologists? I believe I can safely answer in the affirmative. Does the Church often fail to live up to Jesus’ example? Absolutely. “The insanity refuses to stop,” Mr. Kletzien concludes.

This is true—barring the end of the world, the Church will continue to exist in this form, and its members will probably participate in occasional acts of evil. However, these instances of cruelty, ignorance, and hatred cannot erase the truth of Christ’s message or the healing it brings to a world fraught by human failure.

Emily Sammon can be reached at esammon@luc.edu.

Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/aussiegall.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger

I struggled to decide what to write about this week. I think everyone is starting to reach that point in the semester where school is starting to pick up, everyone is getting busier. I admit, my prayer life has been moved to the back burner in the week or so.

But, I think my themes for this week come down to two words: community and gratitude. Let me explain with a story of why. My sorority was installed as a new chapter on campus last weekend. After a semester of work, planning and anticipation, 80 women were fully initiated into Alpha Delta Pi. At our brunch on Sunday, there were women, young and old, from all over the country there to represent us and our organization. Countless women shared their stories of when they became full members in college, the great things their membership has done for them, and how in love they still are with our sisterhood.

Now, you might be asking: “what does a sorority possibly have to do with religion and spirituality??” Well, I wasn’t so sure at first either. But this weekend reminded me of the huge community my sorority gives me. I realized the critical importance of having a group of people you know will support you no matter what. It’s the same way with faith. Without someone there to work with you, pray with you, and support you in your struggles, maintaining your faith, spirituality, religion, reflection becomes a daunting and sometimes overwhelming feat.

Thinking about the importance of community made me realize how amazingly blessed I am. Not only do I have a community of sisters right here on campus, but I have my friends who I can go to Mass with and pray with, and my friends I see day in and day out, a family who, though far, loves me, and countless other people creating a safety net of support beneath me. This overwhelming sense of gratitude has given me a jump start to the stalled battery car that has been my faith recently. True, it wasn’t due to some dramatic religious revelation, but it came from something just a true and powerful: the revelation that, despite everything, I am truly blessed in a way not everyone is.

So take time this week to recognize your communities. Find those people who help you keep going, and thank them. Give them a hug, a fist bump, or make them some brownies (especially if I’m one of those people…I do love brownies).

As always, peace and love.

Until next week!

Megan Niedringhaus’s “Sunday Traveler” blog is published every Sunday.

Photo Courtesy of Loyola Cru. Loyola Cru traveled to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin for their fall retreat on November 6, 2011.

By Dimitri Plikas
Chameleon Staff Writer 

At the intersection of life and academia, the university serves as the agora of thought, a sort of bastion of free thinking. Teeming with students from all walks of life, academia primes its students to, essentially, “go forth and set the world on fire” in true St. Ignatius Loyola fashion.

But have you ever stopped to really consider what it means to “set the world on fire”?

Packed in that charge lies the notion of hope, progress, and positive transformation of students to blaze a path before them unlike the world has ever seen. Loyola graduates depart for the world before them eager to leave a legacy of deep, lasting impact for themselves and the generations to come.

Yet at the heart of humanity we cannot look around the world and simultaneously conceal our dynamic propensity to be indifferent or worse, to be the vessels of evil, though we may try. On an individual level, it is when our flaws are exposed that our knee-jerk response to this disyllabic little word comes to light the most.

We often juxtapose ourselves with those around us, as if by some rationale of the human mind we consider ourselves exponentially more virtuous than our fellow human being if we are not that murderer broadcasted on television, the rapist caught down the street, or a friend who has messed up. “At least I’m not that guy.”

Or, perhaps, we are more humble to admit our shortcomings, grave or not, than we often let on.

According to Christianity, that comparative mindset of I-am-good-because-I-am-not-as-bad-as-so-and-so does not stand. By no means am I saying that murder and rape equate in gravity to other evils. Rather, I am saying that the universal reality of the fallen human condition is this: we all have a propensity to sin, and we are all held accountable (Eccl. 7:20; Rom. 3:10, 23). Let him who is without sin cast the first stone, right?

For that reason, Jesus’s message of grace calls for a response from those who accept it.

At that junction, between sin and redemption, between us and the Creator, lies another charge, that of Jesus, to go forth and make disciples of all nations, to infuse a fallen world with and by the grace of God.

In tune with that charge exists Cru.

Cru is the official name of the international non-profit Christian organization formerly known as Campus Crusade for Christ.

Located in more countries around the world than McDonald’s—191 to be precise—and with a staff exceeding 27,000 full-time and part-time workers as well as a volunteer workforce exceeding 225,000, since 1951 Cru has sought to help carry forward Jesus’ Great Commission to reach the people of the world with his Gospel message, his “Good News” (euangélion).

Founded by Dr. Bill Bright and his wife Vonette at UCLA and currently headquartered in Orlando, Cru was established on the principle that Jesus’s redemptive message should not nor cannot be contained. Since its inception, it has grown to over 1100 American and overseas university campuses with over 60,000 American students actively involved and 100,000-150,000 non-Christian students annually deciding to dedicate their lives to Jesus.

Loyola Cru, at about 50 students strong, has been a presence on campus for a number of years and shares staff members with Northwestern’s Cru. They hold weekly meetings, Bible studies, retreats, events, and outreaches.

“Cru is not only an organization but it’s a group of students who have real faith and real problems and come together weekly,” explains junior accounting major David Sekar.

“[We come together] to learn about Jesus and how he’s saved us and how we can grow in relationship with him and do all things for and through the glory of God.”

Furthermore, each summer thousands of members apply and raise their own support for missions work to one of 200 different stateside and international 1-12 week Summer Projects.

Loyola members have traveled to locations such as Ocean City, NJ; Virginia Beach, VA; Berlin, Germany; Central Asia, and East Asia. Some students then decide to go on to “STINT” internationally for a one or two-year commitment.

So, the next time somebody asks what Cru is all about, you know how to respond.

It is not a haircut. It is not Loyola’s rowing team.

It is a community of students stepping out in faith, sharing the love and grace of Christ, and seeking to “set the world on fire” for and through the glory of God.

Loyola Cru currently meets Tuesdays at 9:00 p.m. at McCormick Lounge in Coffey Hall. Contact loyolacru@gmail.com for more information.

To contact Dimitri Plikas, email him at dplikas@gmail.com.

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons, flickr.com/photos/tm-tm. Several controversies continue to surround the Archdiocese of Milwaukee.

By Andrew Kletzien
Copy Editor 

Fifty-eight men have been accused of molesting or raping young children in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee since 2003. This particular archdiocese was a hotbed for these allegations and continues to be a center of controversy among Catholics and Catholic opponents.

The Archdiocese recently changed their online site to say, “All reports of sexual abuse are forwarded to civil authorities.” Well, bravo.

It only took you a few millennia to clear that one up, and God knows that wasn’t your policy until a few brave young men and women came out and filed official reports.

While I was in my hairdresser’s salon, I was astonished to hear a few Catholics from this very diocese (where I am from) talking about the incident.

This included one devout Catholic man and a sister of my sixth grade parochial school teacher.

The man and woman’s conversation started out with the news they had heard of the Catholic Church attempting to reunite these child rapists with their victims to make some “amends.” Needless to say, they were inspired—inspired at the idea of reuniting these children with the people who have left them with horrendous memories for the rest of their lives.

I would like to propose that this is not only a horrific idea, but one that I believe many Catholics can stand against. One can only speculate whether or not such an action would be attempted if these convicted criminals did not have the label of “Father” before their name.

I would like to speculate that they would not.

Only an institution which tried to cover up these scandals would attempt such a reprehensible “reuniting.”

The conversation did not stop there. The two then had the discussion that they didn’t think it was right that their church donations were going to the families and victims of these horrific offenses. What was their reasoning? “Well, it wasn’t our priests that did it.”

At what point did it become okay to say that the world’s biggest business (and that’s what the Catholic Church is—a corporation) cannot give to the victims of the outrageous offenses committed by their very ordained?

This is the same church, remind you, that uses the Bible, which says to give everything you own to the poor and live a simple life.

This is the same church that sits its highest officials in a multi-billion dollar palace in Rome, places their pope on a golden throne, and clothes themselves in the most ornate and decadent outfits money can buy.

Let’s put aside past regressions, like the Inquisition, the Crusades, or the execution of the most brilliant scientist known to man. Let’s put aside its condemnation of natural law as church heresy or its constant battle with advocates of marriage equality in every country it can put its wealthy hands on.

I’d like to make a proposition. I am a democrat—a liberal one, at that.

If I found out that over the span of 20 years the Democratic Party has hidden countless sex scandals involving young children (58 from one diocese, remember), I would immediately withdraw my support, without question and without hesitation.

But Catholics, at least in America, preach the “few bad apples” hypothesis and expect us to write it off. It’s not so easy for me, you see. Even if I were able to write off the countless offenses to humanity as a whole over the past millennium, this would be enough to withdraw my support.

I was never a Catholic apologist to begin with, but let me tell you, nothing is more telling than hearing Catholics complain about money being given to the children who their priests raped.

I would like to assert a simple question: when are we going to move past the era where regular Americans can sit back and give institutions a free ride for committing heinous acts of remarkable proportions and continue participating in the very same institutions?

At what point will we stop giving “due” respect to an institution which literally watched while their priests raped children and tried to cover it up?

The Catholic Church would love for this scandal to go away, but I refuse to let it.

I pulled my last straw from the Church many years ago, but the insanity refuses to stop.

Andrew Kletzien is a copy editor. He can be reached at akletzien@luc.edu.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger 

Silence. Something that, as Chicagoans, we probably aren’t used to. How many of us have headphones in while we walk to class, ride the el, or even just sit in a coffee shop? I love the city, but sometimes it’s almost impossible to find time and places to just have quiet.

As a Catholic, I grew up with a misunderstanding that silence wasn’t an essential part of prayer. If you’ve ever been to a Catholic Mass, have you noticed how little silence there actually is? Believe me, I’m not hating on the Church or Mass, I’m just stating that, as humans, we are uncomfortable with silence.

But that’s the thing about silence. The discomfort of quiet takes us off guard. But, if we let ourselves be okay with just sitting, we can tap into the an awesome, meditative, and surprisingly relaxing power.

Mother Teresa once wrote: “[We] need silence. To be alone or together looking for God in silence. There it is that we accumulate the inward power which we distribute in action, put in the smallest duty and spend in the severest hardships…Silence came before creation, and the heavens were spread without a word.”

Silence brings us a sense of awareness and calm that is essential not only to prayer, but it helps us recognize the need to be present in a singular moment. Silence can unlock not only a deep self-awareness, but it can lead us to a profound prayer experience. It is in the silence that God speaks to us.

There’s a story in the Bible that says Moses went up on a mountain to look for God. But God wasn’t in the rushing wind, the fire, or the storm. He was in the silence, speaking as a calm whisper. Clearly, God isn’t only this all powerful old guy chilling in the clouds with an epic beard, smiting the sinners left and right.

Instead, try seeing him like you maybe see your dad or grandpa from when you were little. Someone calm and comforting whose lap you can climb into and just feel secure. That’s the God that seeks us in the silence. And honestly, who doesn’t want THAT?

So in the midst of finals and end of the semester madness, take time to be silent. Sit by the lake, take a walk by yourself, or go to a playground and swing. Do whatever you need to find that calm, quiet voice after the fires, storms and rain. Instead of always seeking out God, simply sit, and let God seek you.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and may peace be in your hearts.

Catch all the “Sunday Traveler” bloggers from the religion and spirituality blog every Sunday. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Holidays, and a happy winter break, from all of us here at the LUChameleon!

Illustration By Matt Gillis/The Chameleon. Many of the most prominent religions take a stand against homosexuality.

By Andrew Kletzien
Copy Editor

Recently Loyola hosted a panel of five speakers who came to address attendees about religion and the LGBTQIA community.

Included were two representatives of Judaism, two representatives of Christianity (one Catholic and one Protestant), and one representative of Islam.

The Catholic representative, a Catholic graduate student here at Loyola, started off by pointing out that alternative readings are not helpful in interpreting the Bible from a queer perspective.

Bravo. We will get nowhere by pretending that the passages aren’t there, that it doesn’t say what it actually says. There are plenty of arguments against the Westboro Baptist Church, but one of the effective ones is not the denial of the fact that the Bible says the things that they claim it does.

She took the approach of looking at eunuchs in the Bible, specifically the acceptance of eunuchs in to the heavily kingdom. This entire tangent was off-point, as a castrated young male is hardly comparable to the LGBTQIA community today.

It is actually quite the disturbing comparison, for if the LGBTQIA community was in fact castrated and unable to sexually penetrate each other, the Catholic Church would probably have less of a problem with their lifestyle.

When speaking of the passages of prohibition of homosexuality, she basically said, “Well, you’re not really going to the right passages.”

But, I thought this was the Word of God? The Supreme Law? Taking certain passages and throwing others out completely is exactly the common argument against WBC and the Phelps family, and here we have Catholics doing the exact same thing, just in the opposite direction.

She expressed deep concern over the lack of response of the Catholic bishops to gay suicides in America, but noted that the nuns of the U.S. have responded quite readily with open acceptance.

But of course, she admitted, these establishments have been under heavy attack from the Vatican. For what? For condemning suicides of gay teens.

The representatives of Judaism, in my eyes, were the most truthful. Right from the get go, he admitted that Hebrew scripture is ardently against homosexuality, but coupled that with the declaration that he is not exactly religious, giving reason to how he has consciously become an LGBTQIA activist in Israel.

He openly admitted that Judaism is filled with little tricks to get around sinning and emphasized the Jewish distinguish ability between intentional sins and non-intentional sins.

But, alas, he outright rejected this idea too, as most reasonable people today would. He was the only to explicitly mention the difficulties of being gay and being religious.

The Islamic responses reminded me much of the typical politician response to questions posed.

The answers were extremely vague, took the alternative readings, which the Catholic rallied against, and basically said, “Well there are other texts that say different things, too.”

What does the Koran say about homosexuality? Well, I think most of my readership can answer that for themselves. She noted that it’s not just gay sex that is outlawed, but all sex outside of marriage.

Of course, now I’m sure that’s bound to attract more new age teenagers and win them over.

She pointed toward commonality between the gay community and the Muslim community, saying that they are both oppressed and can share that in common.

Well, Jews have been oppressed for centuries, yet I hardly see them bonding over it with the Muslims in the Middle East.

The Protestant preacher was the most frustrating of the panelists for me. Granted, he was the only “preacher” on the panel.

He also focused on the role of the eunuchs in the Bible, which I have already taken issue with. He even went as far as to ask, “Is being gay a real thing?”

He asked if we could go back in time and pinpoint anyone as explicitly queer. He seemed to imply that we could not. Well, I think Walt Whitman or Alexander the Great would take issue with that specifically.

He made the claim that Protestants today are welcomed to dissent with the Church, and that it is their right and they are not treated differently.

However, I ask back to him, “Why does LGBTQIA acceptance have to be dissent? Why can’t it be institutional practice?”

At one point he implied, “It’s a lovely thing to be LGBTQIA. I’m going to use my teaching authority to declare it to be so.” Doesn’t this seem too much of a trickery of the system?

It just seems as though he got by without ever mentioning, “This will be my preaching platform,” got the authority, and made it so. At one point, in response to a question, he asked a question, “Does Hebrew scripture really condemn homosexuality? Maybe.”

Maybe? I’m pretty sure the Jewish panelist cleared that up for us on the first question. Hebrew scripture explicitly condemns homosexuality, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Being the pressing atheist I am, I asked the panel, “Let’s suppose we were talking about political parties, and each of you represented a party. If one of your parties included in its platform something similar to the Leviticus prohibitions, I would immediately withdraw my support. Why should the LGBTQIA community allow religion a special pass that we wouldn’t give to political parties?”

The Protestant plainly answered, “Well we aren’t political parties.”

The Catholic declared her dissent and removal of support from the Magisterium, which, I guess she can get away with because she isn’t a priest (and couldn’t even be one if she wanted to).

She said that there are plenty of pro-equality Catholic groups. This is very true, however, the Catechism, the basic teachings of the Church, is quite adamant on their position, so why would I support that?

The Catholic Bishops in America just came out with a new initiative, one rallying against (not divorce), but gay marriage (www.marriageuniqueforareason.org).

Once again the Jewish panelist impressed me the most, but still fell short. He argued that there is something more to religion than political parties, that it embodies something bigger.

That’s fine, but to an atheist like me, how is that supposed to be a valid argument? Within the community, it’s easy to say that you are higher than outside institutions, but you still have to justify your point in relation to the outside world.

He failed to do so.

He pointed out that he didn’t agree one hundred percent with any political party, so that wouldn’t be his deciding factor. That’s fine if gay marriage or general gay rights isn’t your deciding factor.

But what about to those to who gay marriage is one of the many deciding factors, as it is for so many young people today?

Andrew Kletzien is a copy editor. He can reached at akletzien@luc.edu.

By Derrick Witherington
Chameleon Religion Blogger

One week ago on Sunday, November 27, Roman Catholics around the United States began using a new translation of the prayers used at the celebration of the Mass.

At Loyola’s Madonna della Strada Chapel, we have been preparing for this transition since August by singing the new versions of the Gloria, Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy), and Mystery of Faith at our Sunday Liturgies.

In the few weeks immediately prior to the changes, our Director of Music Steven Betancourt spoke to the congregation before the start of the Mass to remind them of the upcoming changes and also to call attention to the laminated Mass-cards with the new congregational responses which were to be found in the book racks of each chair.

All in all, the transition to the new translation has gone off without a hitch – though some (myself included) still are having trouble with responding “and with your spirit” instead of “and also with you” to the priest saying “the Lord be with you.”

After talking to a few members of Loyola’s worshipping community, I noticed that the overall reaction to this new translation has been somewhat skeptical or perhaps even negative.

The reasons for this run the gamut from an emotional attachment to the old texts which have nourished American Catholics for nearly 40 years, to quite specific objections to either the linguistic structure of the new translation or to the “top-down” way that the new translation was “promulgated” from a centralized authority which is not always necessarily attuned to the reality and experience of Catholicism in the United States.

And you know what?   These objections are pretty well-grounded, and I can understand them out of my own experience as well.

When I put the old Sacramentary (the name of the book containing all of the Mass-prayers) away for the last time, I was filled with some melancholy.

For my whole life, these were the words that I had prayed every Sunday, these were indeed the words that I had been “weaned” on as it were in order to pray and experience God through the celebration of the Mass which is, as the Second Vatican Council reminded us “the source and summit of the Christian life.”

I also can relate to those who object to the way the new translation was promulgated, namely (so it seems) from a centralized bureaucracy which does not always act in ways which inspire confidence.

What then is our proper response?  If you read other religious or Catholic blogs, the recommended responses run the gamut from a triumphalistic “we finally got this right after 40 years” attitude, to a call for parishes and priests to still use the old version of the Sacramentary in disobedience to the new directives.

Personally, I don’t think that either of these responses is really going to help in this transition in ways which are really effective.  What then is a better response?

At Sunday morning’s 10:30 a.m. Mass, Fr. Brian Paulson, the rector of the Loyola Jesuit Community delivered a homily which I personally found very helpful in coming to articulate such a response.

He suggested that the best way to look at the new translation was as an unexpected gift from a loved one.  We weren’t expecting it, maybe it even catches us off-guard or makes us a little defensive – nevertheless, it is a gift that has been given to us ultimately out of love.

It is a change, and indeed it probably is a change that may be met with some difficulty, nevertheless we should at least try to give it the benefit of the doubt, trusting that those who gave it for our use have our sanctification ultimately in mind.

This does not mean that we shouldn’t grieve a little bit, as grieving is a normal part of all transitions.

As one of my friends put it:  “it was like a friend that was there one day, and then ‘poof!’ the next day he was gone.”

While giving the new translation a benefit of the doubt, we also need to allow ourselves and other members of the faithful to grieve.  The response to grief shouldn’t be either haughtiness or anger, rather it should be heartfelt compassion.

What better Liturgical Season to enact these changes in than Advent?  If a central theme of Advent is being attentive to God’s coming to us, couldn’t we transfer this to being attentive to the words we use in worship, being open to new rhythms and structure, and seeing how it can potentially bring us close to God?

Is not the opposite of “Advent Attentiveness” a refusal to see God’s presence and movement in all people, places, and things (yes, even a new translation of the Mass)?

These four weeks of Advent are marked by so much busyness – classes, exams, papers, shopping, finalizing Holiday travel plans etc.  For those of us who are Roman Catholics, maybe a good way to remember to be attentive to God’s coming to us in ways that are unexpected could be to carefully and attentively follow the new Mass parts while being open to their transformative possibilities for us in our daily lives.

Yes it’s going to be a challenge.  We may miss the old prayers, and we may have real objections to the new prayers.  Even if this is the case, we should still be open to receiving this gift, and remain open to the Liturgy having a transformative affect on our lives, enabling us to go out and boldly “set the world on fire” with the knowledge and love of God.

Derrick Witherington is a religion and spirituality blogger. Catch him and the rest of the religion and spirituality bloggers every Sunday.

Photo By Marie Janzen/The Chameleon. Father Jerome Overbeck holds his office hours at Starbucks Coffee, a tradition he has had for over eight years.

By Marie Janzen
Chameleon Staff Writer

Father Jerome Overbeck is the chaplain at the School of Law at Loyola University Chicago.

With jazz playing in the background at the Gonzaga House, a Jesuit residence located on Kenmore Avenue at Lakeshore Campus, he spoke about his typical day, his journey into becoming a priest, and his passion for cooking.

“Eventually I came to see that I think this is where God calls me to be,” said Overbeck on his inspirations toward priesthood.

Growing up in southwestern Ohio, Jerome Overbeck’s desire to become a priest was overshadowed by his fear of being judged by others.

He did not find his calling to God until after experiencing love through working at an orphanage.

“Those kids just stole my heart. I didn’t care what other people thought after that,” he said.

The path to becoming a priest is a long journey, particularly in education. The process of becoming a Jesuit priest starts with taking vows to become a Jesuit.

Then through study and eventual request, an ordination ceremony takes place.

After receiving a bachelor of arts at Loyola University Chicago, Overbeck went on to get a masters degree at Xavier University. He also received a master’s degree in divinity and theology and a licentiate of sacred theology at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley, California.

Overbeck eventually went on to receive a Ph. D in liturgical theology and cultural anthropology through the Graduate Theological Union, which is associated with the University of California Berkeley.

He has worked at Loyola for over 30 years and has been a part of the School of Law for the last eight.

“What it means to be a chaplain, the way I see it, is to be available through presence and programming to students, faculty, staff, administrators, and their spouses and children.”

His biggest obstacle is getting past the realities of our cold world and the stereotypes that are affiliated with both religion and priesthood.

Overbeck mentioned a program that emphasizes one of his passions, which is offering people home-cooked food on Tuesday nights.

Traveling the world as a Jesuit, Overbeck has had the opportunity to learn hands-on about different cuisines and the process of making them.

His favorite type of food to cook is Italian.

“To make a long story short, I like to cook, and I’ve learned what spices go to together.”

A typical day for Father Overbeck starts at 5 A.M. He uses his time on the El to Water Tower Campus as a period of prayer or meditation.

After he gets off the El, he makes his way to Starbucks where he has held his office hours since his first day of working at the School of Law.

“Well now I sit at the same table at the same seat at the window. In between 6:30 A.M. and 8:30 A.M. I see more students, faculty, staff, administrators, alums, neighbors, and baristas at that crazy Starbucks than I ever see in church, my classroom, or my office.”

Overbeck went into Starbucks to pick up a coffee on his first day and ended up staying there for an hour and a half talking to people.

He did the same thing the next day and found himself talking to even more individuals. The trend stuck, and he now continues it eight years later.

You can find Overbeck at that Starbucks every day, except on Thursdays, which is his day off.

“That’s [the] one day I do not set an alarm for 5 A.M. The only thing I plan is [to set] no alarm clock, and I usually sleep 10 to 12 hours.”

After his Starbucks office hours, he tends to emails and then does pastoral counseling with individuals and couples. He also is involved in weddings and aids couples six months prior to their big day.

In addition, Overbeck aids Mexican exchange students who are currently working toward their masters in social work.

Father Jerome Overbeck is one of 75 Jesuits here at Loyola University Chicago who is open to conversation and is accepting of all individuals regardless of race, age, gender, or religion.

To contact Marie Janzen, email her at mjanzen@luc.edu.

By Megan Niedringhaus
Chameleon Religion Blogger

Love. “An intense feeling of deep affection,” as the dictionary says. But the word “love” gets thrown around a lot, if you ask me. I can tell you that I love my boyfriend, mother, best friend…and then tell you I also love chocolate?

When it comes to faith, the definition of love tends to be a bit skewed. Sure, we may believe: in God, in ritual, in something as simple and natural as a sunrise, but what do we love? What do we have an intense feeling of deep affection for? St. Ignatius told his followers to “go out and set the world on fire.” What deeply and intensely effects you, moves you down to your very core?

I find my “fire” in the little things. Of course it’s easy to notice the big, noticeable events that rock your world and change the way you see things, but it’s challenging but also remarkable to find something that changes your viewpoint every day.

I find it in the amazing way Lake Michigan never looks the same way twice. Or when someone holds a door open at an el station. I love seeing random acts of kindness.

They restore my faith in humanity, in a sense. Small acts of love are what prove to me that God really is in all things. I feel like it creates this unspoken community between people; something that says we’re all the same, no matter how different our lives may be.

I remember the first time I felt this sense of wordless communion.

During my freshman year of college, a friend persuaded me to go to a Hindu prayer service with him for class. After removing our shoes and entering the prayer room, I immediately noticed three things.

One, the shrines, gold, and flowers that covered the front of the room, the loud music and chanted prayers, and the fact that women and men stood on opposite sides of the room. I looked at my friend with apprehension as I walked to the other side of the room.

Great, I officially know no one but the person who I can’t even see from here, I thought. But as I became engrossed in the music, incense, and swaying, I began to notice something: this faith community’s form of prayer wasn’t that different from my own.

At my church back home, we sing, pray as a group, and listen to a reflective talk from a respected leader in our group. I was blown away by how Hinduism and Catholicism could be so incredibly similar.

I had never imagined I would find it so easy to connect with a group of people so different from what I knew, and yet here I was speaking with a man who (and please pardon me if my terminology is incorrect) I believe was a monk, about the meaning of krishna and the chanted prayers we heard earlier in the service.

I left that evening with a belly full of vegetarian deliciousness and a heart full of love. I had been taken off-guard by God, and had found the most unexpected way to explore my faith…through the faith of others.

This sense of community filled my heart with a desire to connect with more people, people I knew, people of a different religion or culture than my own. I wanted to explore this community I never knew I was a part of.

So, my challenge to you is to go out and find people. Find a connection with someone you never thought possible.

Obviously I’m not saying you should jump on the red line at midnight and ride around until you find someone interesting; find a way to see things differently.

Look at the lake as you rush to your first class. Say hi to the woman who makes the amazing burritos in Rambler (seriously, she’s great).

Reach out to someone, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Embrace love.

Megan Niedringhaus is a Search Companion and Chameleon religion blogger. Catch her and the rest of the Campus Ministry blog crew members when they publish every Sunday.

Photo By Hannah Lutz/The Chameleon. The Bible contains many Christian doctrines.

By Andrew Kletzien
Copy Editor 

Here we are, students at a Jesuit Catholic institution. About 50 percent of the Loyola University student body practices Catholicism and other students are different forms of Christians.

Don’t get me wrong though, Jesuits provide some of the best education in the business. I went to Catholic school from kindergarten to high school, and now I’m here.

And what I have noticed about here, is that a lot of people are Catholic or Christian in name, maybe because that is what Mommy or Daddy expected of them, but in reality, they are much more skeptical.

And they have reason to be skeptical. Let’s take a look at the history of Christianity. If you ask any regular Christian about the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, they can give you in depth accounts of his miracles, his early life (nothing from ages thirteen to thirty, but that’s beside the point), and up to his ascension in to heaven.

But if you ask them about how Christianity spread, their answers to your questions become more and more vague. They do not know about the decades-long gap between the supposed death of Jesus, around 33 AD, and the writing of the Gospels, the earliest of which is thought to be around 70 AD. So what happened in between?

I’ll tell you what happened in between. Paul happened. Paul was responsible for spreading the church immediately after the ascension. But, something is missing. Paul never even met Jesus. What Paul knew about Christianity came from what appears to be a schizophrenic apparition on the road to Damascus. And supposedly, that is all it takes to become one of the vicars of Christ.

Paul wrote 80,000 words about Christianity. That is all we have from 33 AD to 70 AD. Paul never once mentioned Mary, Joseph, Bethlehem, Herod, John the Baptist, any of the miracles, the entrance into Jerusalem, or Pontius Pilate. All he knows is the passion, death, and resurrection. Throughout Paul’s writing, you get the idea that this account was a mythical story, with no link to historical fact.

Not to mention the fact that allegorical literature dominated that period of history. These were “Gospels,” not history. These writers had read all of the mythical texts and threw in tons of different references to all of them. Then we have the Apocrypha, the set of texts that Christians have decided do not really conform to what they want to preach, so they threw them out completely.

What I have not had one Christian explain to me is how they can validate, in their own conscience, to take some parts of the Bible so literally, specifically something as fantastical as a crucifixion followed by a resurrection, and yet throw around other parts, written by the same authors during the same time, as simple allegory or complete falsehood.

Did the authors of these texts have no appreciation for or respect of what future generations would take these stories as? With something so crucial, such as the salvation of human beings and their souls, why would someone take the risk of intermixing so many fictitious stories and actual stories, so that no one could really agree to which ones are real and which ones are not?

There is a common pattern in literature known as the hero pattern. Some of them include having a virgin mother, being the son of a god, an attempt at birth to kill him, being told nothing of his childhood, becoming king, prescribing laws, being killed at the top of a hill after having no children, not being buried, and having one or more holy sepulchers.

Oedipus scores number one on the list. Jesus comes in third in traditional texts. Following are Romulus, Hercules, Perseus, Zeus, and Jas. Why does it not strike more people as odd that so many stories are paralleled so perfectly with the story of Jesus, many of them coming several years before the story of Christ? Is it possible that the story of Christ was not original?

My goal is not necessarily to de-convert people, but to inform people of parts of these doctrines which they might find troubling, if they were to really delve into them.

So much of the Christian pride, their assurance in their faith, is based on sheer ignorance of historical fact. Not to say that there is not a slight chance that they might actually be right, but if they are so sure of that, why not learn about the other possibilities?

People are so scared to hear other stories and other facts, but why? If you are so sure, if your heart is so drawn into this doctrine, can you not simply be informed of stories written down in history, both mythical and actual, or is your faith not as stable as you may think?

Andrew Kletzien is a copy editor. He can reached at akletzien@luc.edu.

Photo Courtesy of the Labre Ministry website: http://www.luc.edu/ministry/service_wtc.shtml. Labre Companions go out every Thursday night to build relationships with Chicago's homeless.

By Hannah Lutz
Photo Editor

The night of October 20 epitomized fall’s annual transformation. The air was cool and brisk as I was introduced to the Labre Ministry.

Labre’s aim is to initiate relationships between Loyola students and Chicago’s homeless. With the distribution of food, students hope to build friendship and solidarity with the individuals who line our streets.

Loyola joined Labre only four years ago. They receive a $1,000 grant from Kraft Foods and donations from a Water Tower Campus (WTC) ministry fund.

Labre is a student organization that follows the example of Saint Benedict Joseph Labre. During reflection, they pray for those they help in saying, “Poor in the eyes of men and women, rich in the eyes of God.”

Nicole Chmela, the program director for Water Tower Campus Ministry, believes Labre is a great way to use one’s gifts to serve others.

“I think it’s a very humbling experience,” Chmela says. “It’s an opportunity to live out your faith that’s really practical. It’s a regular reminder for me to be grateful, but also to remember that we’re here to support each other.”

Allison Nicotera, one of the Labre Companions, claims there is more to the Labre experience than just donating food.

“We’re really building relationships with [the homeless] and getting to know who they are as human beings, as opposed to someone just needing the basic necessities,” says the junior International Studies major. “Another necessity is relationships and conversations with people.”

Nicotera would routinely stop to talk with a homeless poet named Alexander. She says that Alexander was very open with her and often shared his poetry.

“It was totally out of the context of him being homeless and us being university students,” Nicotera says. “It was just talking about his passion for the arts.”

Michael Conway, a sophomore studying history and political science, shares Nicotera’s passion for developing friendships with Chicago’s homeless.

“I like doing it [Labre] because there’s a face to it,” Conway says. “We acknowledge our limitations and do what we can. It’s a concrete step to realizing our humanity.”

From my single experience with Labre, I sensed the solidarity its members had established, and continue to build, with the people they help. To say the least, the homeless people I encountered were not what I expected. Even in the depths of poverty, many homeless people showed much thanks not only for the food we gave them, but also for the life they have been given.

Some invited us to pray with them. Most were fairly optimistic. On that night, some talked with us about things like World Series predictions, football, or recent news, like Gaddafi’s death. When we’d ask how their weeks were going, the common response was “pretty good,” as they would quickly switch gears to ask about ours. The few complaints they did have were about the harsh storm conditions they had been struggling with or others stealing their few belongings.

However, problems like lack of food and poor weather conditions were minor issues for some. One man told us that his mother had died the previous night. Another told us that his younger brother died in his arms last year. He said he has thought of him every day since.

As a tribute to the homeless, Labre allows Loyola students to effectively give back to the Chicago community. By assigning a face to homelessness, Labre volunteers have a compassionate longing to develop unity with the homeless.

Labre’s upcoming Christmas project is “Labre Gives.” There will be a Christmas tree in Terry Student Center from November 7 until December 6. The tree will be ornamented with biographies of some of Chicago’s homeless men and women. This will give Loyola students the opportunity to give the homeless a Christmas experience.

Labre meets at Terry Student Center at the Water Tower Campus on Thursday nights. To get involved, contact labre@luc.edu.

Hannah Lutz is the photo editor. She can be reached at hlutz@luc.edu.