A Love which Knew no Bounds-the Story of Jay Gatsby

As you probably are tired of me saying, I am a die hard fan of the Great Gatsby. I wrote about the book here-now I want to comment on the movie because I'm obsessed. Since I'm in no way a movie critic, I won't even bother with the explanation of why I think Luhrmann actually did a good job for what he was attempting, but ultimately fell short of the brilliance of the book (impossible not to, in my opinion). Instead, I want to analyze the character Jay Gatsby, because, well, that's what it's all about.

Note: Spoiler Alert. There are many. If you haven't read the book and therefore are scared to go on, do yourself a favor and read the book. If you have, then it won't matter if I tell you about the movie because it is unbelievably faithful to the book's plot line. 

Jay Gatsby is the great anomaly of American literature in many ways. He is the bad guy, the sinner, the self-centered rich guy and simultaneously one of the most beloved men in literature, a sort of tragic figure who you can hardly help but root for. And so, when Leonardo DiCaprio was cast for this part, I remember thinking one thing: it couldn't be any other way.

No, seriously. Think about it; everyone knows of Leo, and everyone has an opinion. Most people dislike him for one reason or another, and yet it seems that in most of his movies you can't help but like him. You try and say that he's not a good actor, and then he pulls an Inception and you realize he's actually pretty darn good. Just like Gatsby, you want to have a horrible rumor about him be true (and I'm sure they're out there), but for the most part he's just a pretty loveable guy who isn't great but isn't quite bad enough at anything for you to hate him (my opinions on Leo may be debated, feel free).

And so, a little ways into this movie, we finally see the face of DiCaprio as Gatsby. What we see is the young, boyish face of a man who has enough money to own a mansion on the water and throw parties where the biggest gluttons in New York (and the whole country, for that matter) can come and leave satisfied (ish). Gatsby, though, isn't your average character; the entire story tries to show you who he is, and yet in the end you feel like you still might not have understood him at all, like you know no more than when you saw that smile, the kind of smile which you only see 4 or 5 times in a lifetime (Fitzgerald's words, I'm not that good).

I specifically want to point to one thing about Gatsby's character in the movie (and book, but movie shows it quite well) that I found most interesting: his complete and total dependence on the acceptance of others. Specifically, of course, this is based on the acceptance of Miss Daisy Buchanan, but it also carries over into his whole life and every relationship.

Gatsby is, it seems, living the American dream; he's the personification of the wild and "wonderful" life of the 1920s. He is rich, coming into his money by his own accord (albeit in some shadiness). He is a celebrity by all means of the word, with stories about his past being as broad and well-known as any character of the Jersey Shore today. He is good-looking, with girls from all over the city just trying to get a glimpse of him at a party (if only because he is so mysterious). His smile is perfect. His clothes are perfect. He throws wonderful parties (of particular interest to many people today). The list could go on and on.

Why, then, we might ask, would Gatsby still be desiring something? It seems that no matter what he has, he can't possibly risk not having the approval and acceptance of those around him. When people see his house, he wants it to be perfect. When people see him, he must be presentable. When, later in the movie, he loses his temper, he immediately apologizes, ashamed for being seen in such a light.

All of this, of course, is a ploy for one woman to see him, to notice him, to desire him, and most of all to love him. This, it seems, is the crux of Gatsby's character; he has everything, and yet his insecurities will not cease until he has the affection of the one woman who means so much to him, the one woman for whom he did all of this. Gatsby shows us something profound: wealth, success, connections, influence, possessions, reputation, etc. are all nothing in the grand scheme of things. Human beings were not made to be well-known, human beings were made to give and receive love.

For Gatsby, this was first with Dan Cody, the man who took him in and taught him how to be respectable and successful, but mostly taught him what it looked like to care for another person. After this, he met Daisy Buchanan, and she became all that mattered for the rest of his entire life (quite literally, as we know his life ended quite tragically and quite early).

At the end of the book, we understand his character in a way that the movie could have benefited from showing: Gatsby's dad (father of James Gatz, that is, Gatsby's real name) is one of the few that shows up for the funeral. What his dad has to say is profound; he shows Nick a journal entry of Gatsby from when he was young which detailed a daily schedule for him to improve himself. Gatsby, his dad explains, was driven from an early age to aspire to greatness, to step outside of the limits set for him, to better himself and to do something great with his life.

In the end, many would say that he failed; Jay Gatsby was killed, he was a criminal, and he was involved in adultery. While these things are never to be condoned, and in that sense he did fail, what is obvious to me is this: Jay Gatsby would not have said that he failed for any of those reasons, but simply because he did not end up with Daisy. While his quest for her was often misguided and inappropriate, Gatsby showed that he had found a simple truth in life: when you find love, you should do everything to cling to it. While my moral compass tells me that there are things which should stop you from seeking that thing you love, and I believe that is a truth which I should hold onto, there is something I admire greatly about Jay Gatsby and the way that nothing could possibly deter him from seeking his love, from finding her and being with her as he knew he was meant to be.

The sadness of Gatsby's story is that he didn't end up with his love, for she had moved on and chose not to think about him but live her new life (I do like that she stayed married to her husband, but find it sad that she married him when she loved another more). His story is sad because he died too early. His story is sad because the love disappeared in many ways when Daisy was brought into his life and she wasn't just the light in the distance any more. Jay Gatsby's story, in many ways, is nothing short of tragedy.

And yet, as I started with saying, I can't help but wish things had worked out for Gatsby. I wish Daisy had waited for him. I wish Tom would've been good for Daisy, maybe allowing Gatsby to be happy. I wish Wilson hadn't killed Gatsby. I wish that the story had a happy ending. And maybe there's something for me to learn from the fact that Gatsby's selfish, no-holds-barred pursuit of Daisy outside of any moral code didn't end well; in fact I'm sure there is. But there will always be a part of me that respects Gatsby; not for doing things that were wrong, but for knowing that he would never be complete without giving and receiving love, and for trying to seek that love.

So I rambled a little about Gatsby and didn't get anywhere except to see that I can't wrap my mind around this character. Maybe that's the point, or maybe I'm just too caught up in comparing the morals of the story with the heartfelt love of the story. Whatever the case, I know that I can't help but love the guy, and I know that I thoroughly enjoyed watching DiCaprio take a stab at presenting him to us (in 3-D for like $127 a ticket, because they can), even if there is no way he could've captured all that was meant by Jay Gatsby.

"The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father's business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty. So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen year old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end."

"Gatsby believed in the green light, the future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

A Glass Half Full

There has been a recent confusion and dare I say uproar about certain comments made by our Holy Father about the fact that God cares about and died for all people, not just good and Holy Christians. You can find a translation of the Pope's comments here at the Vatican Radio website, and you can read an opinion about what he said from Scott Hahn here: The Sacred Page. In response to this, words have been written and opinions have been thrown around, basically asserting that either the Pope is a heretic or all people go to heaven now. The most recent article I've read about these comments came on the Huffington Post from an atheist named Staks Rosch in an article called Dear Pope, Atheists Don't Need Redemption.

Here is some of what he says:

"I'm not interested in being "redeemed" by Jesus. Contrary to the Catholic and even the broader Christian belief, I don't believe humans are evil sinners in need of redemption. I don't see the glass as half empty. The way I see it, the glass is full. Half the glass is filled with water and the other half filled with air. In other words, I don't think people are inherently evil; I think people are more nuanced than that. We do good things and we do bad things....Everything Christianity is about hinges on the belief that we are all wretched human beings and that no one is righteous, not one."

There are a lot of things that I would disagree with in his writing, but specifically this is the part he is totally wrong about: Christianity, and not Atheism, is the worldview which has the glass half full.

You see here's what he doesn't understand about Christian teaching: it is not about our wretchedness, it's about God's love. Christianity is ALL about God's love. As my dear priest-friend always told us: "It's all about love, baby."

You see Rosch operates under this worldview which says that Atheism is happy because it lets us be free and Christianity restricts us. While this is fun and good to say, the reality is that it could not be more wrong. Christianity allows us to have freedom, the sort of freedom which allows us to realize who we are in the depths of our being and to live in freedom out of that knowledge--that is to say, true freedom. You see the teaching of Christianity is that we have sinned, yes, and we have in fact fallen away from God, but our story doesn't end there; if it did, then there would be no point to it.

Thank God (because He's real and He lives and loves us and is worth thanking) that our story doesn't end in our wretchedness, but ends in God. The God who created the world in an ordered and beautiful way and created each person to be unique and in His image doesn't let us live in our wretchedness, nor does He ask us to dwell on it, nor does He even see us as wretched. And that, I think, is where this article goes wrong; it sees our sinfulness as we see it, as wretched, instead of how God sees it, as His children needing to return to Him.  When Rosch says that he is not interested in being redeemed by Jesus, he is simply pointing out what Pope Francis was saying in his comments: people want to find goodness, and no matter how far off they are, this is still a search for God's truth, even if it denies His very existence.

When the Pope stated that redemption is possible for atheists he wasn't attacking atheists, but instead pointing out this truth: we are inherently good. People are not wretched, people are not evil, but people do need redemption; we are all created in the image and likeness of a God who died to give new life to all of His children, and the Pope wants to remind us that whether we realize it or not we are seeking him.

And so while Rosch might be mistaken in his understanding of morality, he is close to the truth when he seeks the glass half-full approach to life, since this is what Christianity is about. Christianity is about seeing truth, beauty and goodness in the face of suffering; Christianity is about the fact that no matter how down you might feel on yourself, no matter how much you might struggle, no matter what mistakes you might make, there is ALWAYS redemption. There is a man named Jesus Christ, and He died for the sins of humanity, so wretchedness and sin never need to be a worry anymore.

So yeah, maybe Christians believe that we're sinners and need redemption, Rosch was right about that. What he was wrong about, though, was how that feels for the Christian. For the Christian, sin is not a downer, glass half empty kind of thing; our sin is a reminder that in Christ redemption is always near to us, and we never have a reason to lose hope.

[Book Review]: "Yours is the Church"-What Modern Man Forgets

This post is a Book Review on "Yours is the Church: How Catholicism Shapes Our World" by Mike Aquilina. You can read more book reviews that I have done My Library. If you want to learn more about the Author of this book, Mike Aquilina, you can visit his website: http://mikeaquilina.com/. You can see more of his books here, and you can find this particular book on Amazon here. 

"Yours is the Church: How Catholicism Shapes our World"

Mike Aquilina

Servant Books, 2012

134 Pages

I have read one previous book by Mike Aquilina, and I heard him speak recently on the persecutions of the early Church, and so I was very excited to pick up this book (this is the other book I read of his). Mike is a devout Catholic man who is also a very honest intellectual, a man with a breadth of knowledge of Catholic teaching and most specifically the way that those teachings played out historically. Mike's love for the truth of the history of the Church comes out in a particular way in this book, where he examines the Church's impact on nearly every major aspect of modern culture in a thorough while also readable and brief way. His ability to tell a story in an interesting way, even if it is a story from a culture which we can hardly imagine, makes this book not read like a history lesson, but rather like a very enjoyable trip through 2,000 years of developments, highlighted by some of the more interesting ways that culture grew over that time. 

As you can tell, I was very pleased with this book. From the beginning, it has no problem being blunt and probably offensive to people who don't want to hear about the Church's important impact on culture: "Everything about our modern world we think is good is there because of the Church. The only reason we care about the poor is because Christianity has won. The only reason the rights of women and children are important is because the Church has made them important. The only reason we have science is because the Church taught us how to think" (Introduction, pp. vii-viii). After this opening claim, which to modern sensibilities seems ludicrous, the book jumps right into backing it up; from art to music to literature, science to the dignity of the person, and finally to peace and the future of the world, the argument that the Church is the basis of modern culture is defended in a skillful and brilliant way. I will be honest: his bluntness took me back at first, I am sure mostly because I have been trained to subconsciously think that the Church couldn't possibly be behind all of this. When reading, though, I was convinced of this fact: the historical evidence clearly shows that the world would not look the same had the Church not been a part of it. 

If the idea that the Catholic Church is responsible for the intelligence of modern science, the beauty of music and art, and the dignity of women and children sounds wrong to you, you owe it to yourself to read this book. This book does not shy away from some of the mistakes that people in the Church made throughout history, but it points out something which is often ignored: all people were making the mistakes (and still are), both inside and outside of the Church, but it was only within the Church that people were seeing them as mistakes and fighting back against them. Even in the Dark Ages (I had a professor in college who would take offense at them being called that, so I apologize to Dr. G, but I think she would agree with what he says about the time), a time when it is assumed that no learning or advancement took place, the Church still held a light. As Aquilina says in this book, this was a time when "it goes without saying that all those [speaking of the people who took the ideas of Aristotle that the Muslims brought in his works to Spain and applied them in a way we still look to today] great thinkers were in the Church. There simply wasn't anywhere else where thinking was done" (p. 16).  In the times that people see as dark, the Church held a light; in the times that people see light blazing forth, the Church was the one carrying the torch. In Ancient Rome, the darkest of times for women and children (and most people, for that matter), it was the Church that changed sensibilities to see all people, regardless of age, sex, or color, as people worthy of dignity. 

What Aquilina does here is tackle the breadth of culture, explaining that it all owes a debt to the Church. The things that we see as being wrong in modern culture, often asserted against the Church, we can only see are wrong because the Church taught us values of right and wrong. If we are to truly evaluate culture, then, we have to look to the basis of it, the Church, and see the way that the Church holds us to what culture should look like. 

I could talk all day about some of the points in this book, but instead I will encourage you to read it and find out for yourself why the culture owes a debt of gratitude to the Church. Until you have the chance to read it, I will leave you with his conclusion about what the Church might look like going forward, based on what it has looked like for the last 2,000 years: 

"It will look like the human race--colorful, infinitely diverse, but all one family of God's children. It will be truly Catholic--a word that means 'universal.' It will be enriched by beautiful traditions from all over the planet. Like the living body that it is, the Catholic Church will continue to grow and learn. But it will always be the same Catholic Church, always true to itself, and always faithful to the teachings of the apostles. Yours is the Church." (p. 130)

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this review, start by picking up his books (http://mikeaquilina.com/), and then please comment below and/or share this with your friends. God bless you. 

[Book Review]: On Heaven and Earth-A Dialogue in Unity of Truth

This book, On Heaven and Earth, by Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (now Pope Francis) and Rabbi Abraham Skorka, is released by Image Books and includes conversations by these men on Faith, Family, and the Church in the Twenty-First Century. You can find more info on the book and purchase it on ImageBooks' website here; you can also read Chapter One of the book to get a feel for it here, and you can find the book on Amazon here. You can also read more book reviews that I have done by going here: My Library. 

"On Heaven and Earth"
Jorge Mario Bergoglio and Abraham Skorka
ImageBooks 2013

Like many others, I am sure, I was most interested to pick up this book because it was our new Pope in his own words. When I heard that this book was out there, I was intrigued; rarely do we get an insight into a Pope's mind like this, where it is not teaching but rather simply discussion. From the outset of this book, you get a good idea of what the the book will be like: friendly, intriguing dialogue which is not about debate but rather about finding common ground and looking at life from one's own perspective. As the Pope says in his introduction to this book, "Dialogue is born from a respectful attitude toward the other person, from a conviction that the other person has something good to say" (p. XIV). With this in the introduction, one learns a lot about how the actual dialogue will play out: a dialogue which involves truly listening to the other and discussing the things which the other person has to say on the world. 

Due to the nature of this book as a personal conversation and not a theological analysis, it is quite readable for nearly any audience. While both of these men have deep convictions about their faith and the world, they do not allow their convictions to destroy conversation, but rather they are used to further dialogue. Whether the reader is Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Atheist, or of any other belief system, this book is one that would be an interesting read about the state of world affairs and two well-learned men's opinions on dealing with current issues. In reading this book you will learn a lot about what is happening and has happened in Argentina over the last half-century, as well as a lot about the way that a Catholic or Jewish worldview would go about dealing with these specific problems. On top of reading the opinions, what you will also experience in reading this book is a personal look at the man who is the new Pope; whether you are Catholic or not, he is an important man in the world, and it is good to know a little bit more about him. 

Dialogue in Respect and Love

Since the book has 29 unique chapters touching on subjects from God to guilt to fundamentalism to science to the family and including nearly everything in between, it will be impossible here to discuss any of their thoughts in a profound or really worthwhile way. What I want to look at, instead, is the way that the whole book is framed in conversation, and what we can learn from reading the way that these two men interact. One of the most fascinating encounters of the book, for me, was in the Chapter "On Death" (Chapter 10), in which the two men's views differ quite drastically. Often in this book, one will notice that the basis for viewing the world is very similar in Judaism and Christianity; here, however, we find that this is not the case. Cardinal Bergoglio's understanding of death and the afterlife comes from the Catholic understanding of original sin, which he explains is what leads to death (cf. p.77). Rabbi Skorka, in his response to the Cardinal, lays out the Jewish point of view when it comes to the Garden of Eden, heaven and hell, and sin and death, which are all very different from the Catholic perspective on these things. When it is time for the Cardinal to respond, he does not spend time laboring these points in debating theology, but immediately finds common ground by picking out the topic of "inheritance" which Rabbi Skorka had mentioned and discussing this point. For me, this was a perfect example of what the whole book was about: he didn't need to argue or debate here, as these are points of intricate theology which would be difficult to discuss in a cursory way as they do with many topics, but rather he wants to find common ground, and allow his point of view to come across in a way that the Rabbi can relate to. This, I believe, is something which is often missing in the dialogue which we experience today; today, we will argue our point of view vehemently, without finding common ground. What our new Pope does here has a profound point: if you ever want to get somewhere in argument, you can't start by trying to destroy their points, but rather you must start by showing an understanding of common ground and building from that point. 

Impressions

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. For someone who wants to understand the mind of Pope Francis, this is a great place to start. It is important to note, however, that more time in many parts of this book is definitely given to Rabbi Skorka's words as compared to the length of responses given by Pope Francis. If you are simply looking to read Pope Francis, then, this might catch you off guard; the Rabbi, though, is a brilliant man, and his insights are worth the time to read. I would encourage anyone, no matter where they are on their journey in life and in faith, to take the time to read this book. Whether or not you agree with the arguments, you will learn something; if nothing else, Americans can learn a lot from this book about recent history in Argentina and the way that it has affected those who are from there. 

Unity of Truth

As a final note, I would like to draw back to what I think is the most important and concrete thing I have taken from my reading of this conversation, the importance of dialogue based on respect and care for the other. In Chapter 27 of this book, which is on Israeli-Palestinian conflicts and other conflicts, Cardinal Bergoglio has a section where he talks about an idea presented by German theologian Oscar Cullman. Cullman's idea is that in dealing with conflicts we need to start by affirming the things which are the same between the two parties, and using that sameness to begin moving forward hand-in-hand instead of throwing rocks at one another (cf. p.217). I would like to close this review with a quote from Pope Francis which concludes his comments in this section, which to me wraps up the way that we see these two men interact. This interaction involves much respect for the other person as an individual worthy of love and respect, an individual who is seeking truth and needs to be respected before they can be encountered in dialogue. In this quote, Pope Francis tells us that when dealing with others who think differently, we always need to go forth with "(e)ach one, from their identity, in reconciliation, seeking the unity of truth" (p.218, emphasis added). 

"I received this book for free from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for this review as a part of their blogging for books program; you can learn more about this by visiting the program's website here Blogging for Books."

Doves and Fire

As I write this, we are on the verge of it being one of the most important days of the year. Pentecost, celebrated 50 days after Easter, is the Birthday of the Church, the day that the Holy Spirit came down upon the Apostles and they began to live out Christ's command to go out and baptize all nations.

My life at this point has me working at and living next door to a Church. As anyone who works for a Church or has spent any significant time around a Church can tell you, I witness a lot of different things. Today, what I witnessed was the life of the Church captured in a way so fitting for the day before Pentecost: in a span of 6 hours, the Church was host to daily Mass, a funeral, and a wedding.

For a priest like my Pastor and priests all over the world, this day was nothing new or different in its schedule. In the course of a day, one man is asked to walk people through the various stages of life all in one day: daily devotions, sorrow at the loss of a loved one, extreme joy at the celebration of Marriage or Baptism, and whatever else may come up. The Church, in Her wisdom and love for Her people, becomes within a matter of hours a place of seeking hope in the midst of despair as well as a place for celebration and great joy.

This is what Pentecost was about. The Holy Spirit came down upon the Apostles and Mary who were hiding in the upper room waiting for the promise that Jesus had given them before they went out and fulfilled their calling (read Acts 1-2 again, it's worth it). God, as He always does, came through for them; also as He usually does, He surprised them.

Gathered in the upper room, none of the apostles could have ever imagined the way that the Spirit would come; they wouldn't have thought of fire, and wouldn't have assumed that they'd be able to speak random languages that they'd never learned. Gathered in the upper room, they wouldn't have pictured us, 2,000 years later, having great joy at Baptisms and Weddings and great sorrow at funerals all in the same day here in the United States. Gathered in the upper room, they almost certainly wouldn't have been able to lay out the image of the Magisterium and the way the Church functions in the modern world (I mean come on, the Pope tweets).

And yet they listened, and then they acted. This is what we celebrate on Pentecost. This is what it's all about. The Church is about daily listening to the call of the Lord, taking His commands and His gifts, and giving them back to all people in love and in service. The Church is about being able to mourn with those who mourn and celebrate with those who celebrate (cf. Romans 12:15). The Church is about taking the powerful gift of the Holy Spirit and living in it, never giving in to doubt or despair but rather trusting in all that God calls His people to do, and doing it all with great joy.

May God bless each one of us with His Spirit in a new and profound way this Pentecost.

"Continue to walk in the faith and, faithful to the mandate that has been entrusted to you, go out with solicitude and joy toward all creatures and pass on to them the gifts of salvation...Let yourselves be guided by the Holy Spirit to be the leaven of new life, salt of the earth and light of the world."  -Pope Benedict XVI