2000 CONFESSIONS
December
November
October
September
July/August
June
May
April
March
February
January

Little Notes
Letters

Talk About Movies
Roamin' Catholic
Follow Me




Contents © 2000
by Jim Holman.
All rights reserved.

FEBRUARY 2000 CONFESSIONS

GRAVE REASONS

I recently had a conversation which had a powerful impact on me. I was speaking with a woman, older than myself, who has been something of a mentor for me. She is a fine writer who has been recognized for her work, and she has provided me with encouragement over the years that I have known her. I give her words considerable weight, which explains the impact of the following. I don't remember how it came up, or if this is the exact quote, but this is the gist of it: "Can I ask you a personal question?" "Yes." "Do you need to be a paterfamilias? Or could you be satisfied with two or three children? You could be a real writer if you gave yourself to it and really worked at it. I think it's something that you have to consider."

When she said this, I felt the chasm between our understandings yawn as her point hit home. It is true that I feel a sort of primitive (but not necessarily wrong for being so) pleasure in the notion of gathering my many children about me. Of the blessings promised to God's faithful, one of my favorites is this: "Your wife shall be like a fruitful vine in the recesses of your home, your children like olive plants around your table." I feel unfettered delight every time I hear it read, happy to interpret it literally as the barren age withers about me.

But the question of having a large family is not one of being a paterfamilias, or of being satisfied. I imagine I could be satisfied with the two I have now -- it's what I am familiar with from my childhood, which I remember as being happy. And being a paterfamilias means providing for all those olive plants around my table, a thought that routinely grips my gut with talons of fear. Not to mention giving them a decent upbringing, keeping them in the Church, etc.

Finally, it is a question of one's attitude toward God and His Church, which is His voice on earth. "Not my will but thine" meets a keen test on the question of contraception, and the argument against it is a subtle and difficult one. Though I can give some account of it, here as elsewhere, I believe that obedience is better than understanding -- if individual understanding was paramount, we'd all be Protestants, members of our own private churches. What I hold is this: Children are essential to marriage, the natural and intended fruit of marital union, which is a sign of the union of Christ and His Church. Contraception violates the dignity of the body and the unity of the sex act. Even licit abstinence from sex for the sake of avoiding pregnancy is to be undertaken only "for grave reasons."

The question then becomes, what constitutes "grave reasons"? Whatever talent for writing I possess is a gift from God, one that may be used to His glory. Is a desire (also God-given?) to nurture that gift amid the relative peace and quiet of a three-child family a grave enough reason for avoiding more? I see my mentor's point -- being a good father and spending the hours honing my craft seem incompatible, even from the vantage point of two kids.

On the heels of this comes the question of God's will for a given man. I have friends who see their jobs as instruments through which they may provide for their families. Being a father is their real work, and no doubt it is in some way mine as well. I suspect that they believe children in quantity to be part of the deal when you get married; you promise at the altar to accept them lovingly from God. You don't limit them because you think you might have another calling. Weigh a doubt -- God wants you to write -- against a certainty -- you are married -- and carry on.

On the other hand, my brother's belief in the primacy of God's vocation was so strong that he moved back in with my parents for two and a half years -- first to attend film school and then to look for employment in the field -- bringing his wife and two children with him. They had a third while living there. He believed God was calling him to make movies, and was willing to stop providing for his family for a while to follow that call.

I fall somewhere in between. Certainly, God has a plan for every man. If somebody prays and hears a call like my brother's, it's a bold, arrogant move to tell him he's mistaken, since God wants him to get a job and provide for his family before all else. Still, I'm not about to pull up stakes and move back in with my parents so I can immortalize my hometown in deathless prose. I have a good job here and feel responsible to my family. I haven't heard the call. But some part of my mentor's question stays with me, and I don't have a clear answer.

TOP