Letters to the Editor: January-February 2026

Massacre of the Innocents in Minneapolis

I appreciated Pieter Vree’s reflections on the shooting at a Catholic elementary school in Minneapolis (“Mirror of Society,” New Oxford Notebook, Oct.), but I don’t believe he gave adequate attention to the prime actors in the disaster, namely, the children.

I was struck by the calmness with which the children left the disaster scene, in contrast to other school shootings, in which students, parents, and teachers reacted with panic and screaming. I have no doubt that the pupils at Annunciation Catholic School were fearful; after all, these kids are not robots. However, their demeanor suggests something else was in the mix, about which more in a minute.

The spirit of self-sacrifice was astonishing: Little ones and bigger ones throwing their bodies onto classmates to save them from harm: “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (Jn. 15:13).

Within minutes of the tragedy, the media descended on the parish and began to interview children as young as nine and ten, who spoke articulately and coherently, while using grammatically correct sentences (yes, academics at Catholic schools are top-flight). Once more, while acknowledging the sense of confusion and loss, they exhibited no hysteria (yes, human formation at Catholic schools is equally at the top of its game).

All this redounds to the credit of the school. For years, Annunciation has employed the “buddy system,” whereby older students are paired with younger ones to serve as mentors, guides, and friends, as Vree notes. At root, though, is the Education in Virtue program, produced by the wonderful Dominican Sisters of Ann Arbor, Michigan. That program, in place for more than a decade now and in use in hundreds of Catholic schools nationwide, teaches children and their families how to form good habits for life, based on Gospel principles and the best in educational psychology. Which is to say that the kids at Annunciation were in training to be saints.

Beyond that, the little ones who lost their lives were genuine martyrs — killed in odium fidei — and martyrs of charity at one and the same time. How well does the collect for the Feast of the Holy Innocents apply to them, who gave their “witness,” “not by speaking but by dying.” That prayer’s conclusion ought to be the petition of each of us: “that the faith in you which we confess with our lips may also speak through our manner of life.”

As an aside (but a necessary one, unfortunately), the next time you hear a bishop or priest bemoan our schools as a “drain” or a “burden,” simply shout, “Annunciation!”

So, yes, giving assurances to parents about school security is important, but even more is that their children are being taught how to handle adversity; how to live meaningful, virtuous lives; and even (perhaps especially) how to die a holy death.

Rev. Peter M.J. Stravinskas

Editor, The Catholic Response

Pine Beach, New Jersey

Converts & Convert-Makers

It is always a delight to find another Peter Kreeft fan, this time Joseph Martin, who does well by Kreeft while discussing his autobiography/conversion story From Calvinist to Catholic (“On the Occasion of a Favorite Professor Turning the Pen on Himself,” Oct.), a book I anxiously looked forward to and purchased and read as soon as it was published. Prof. Martin is right that it is not an easy book to review because Kreeft is not terribly forthcoming about some things, and the lack of an index makes it difficult to cite passages. Martin nonetheless does so, giving page numbers. One of my favorite episodes is young Peter’s visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York and the impression it made on him (pp. 37-38). In fact, I used that episode in a homily in which I discussed truth and beauty (I trust Prof. Kreeft will not be displeased).

Also intriguing are Martin’s comments on some of his favorite Kreeft books. Mine is Between Heaven and Hell (1982), in which Kreeft brilliantly imagines a post-death trialogue among three prominent individuals who all died on November 22, 1963: John F. Kennedy, C.S. Lewis, and Aldous Huxley. I highly recommend it.

I must, however, take issue with Martin’s comments on converts to Catholicism. He says Kreeft’s conversion from the Christian Reformed tradition “was an awkward shift in the pre-Vatican II era, when Catholics were Catholics, Protestants stayed Protestant, and never the twain were meant to meet.” Then, at the end of his article, Martin seems to contradict himself when he says Kreeft’s latest book “joins a long tradition of conversion narratives.” Moreover, there is an error regarding Confessions of a Convert (1913), which he says was written by Ronald Knox. It was actually written by Robert Hugh Benson. Knox’s book was called A Spiritual Aeneid (1918). Clearly, there was no shortage of conversions during this pre-Vatican II time.

We must also remember that the heyday of Fulton Sheen, who was known for making converts, took place before the council. In fact, a recent book by Cheryl C.D. Hughes is called Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen: Convert Maker (2024). Sheen was at his height during the 1950s, with his TV show, his radio shows, and his almost ubiquitous appearances, with much of his work aimed at making converts. Sheen’s conversion activities go back even further, to the 1930s and 1940s. Fr. John O’Brien, who specialized in conversion, produced several books of anthologies by converts, with suggestions on how to make converts. Sheen contributed to one of Fr. O’Brien’s books, Winning Converts (1948).

I first encountered conversion literature over 50 years ago in one of Fr. O’Brien’s books of conversion stories, The Road to Damascus, originally published in 1949. From that time forward I have been fascinated by the genre, and I started compiling a list of books related to conversion (I’m an inveterate list-maker), which now runs to over 700 items. Many of them I have never seen, due to their scarcity, so in some cases I’m taking other people’s words for it (which, I’ve learned, are not always accurate). I’ll be retiring later this year, so I hope I will have time to do a thorough job of verifying and editing my list.

I encourage Martin to rethink his comments on conversion and conversion literature. It’s a big subject, going back centuries.

Fr. Thomas Shaw

Walnut, Illinois

Icons of Christ in the Sensible World

It was refreshing to read Thomas J. Kronholz’s guest column “Integrated Art: Expressions of a Deified Reality” (Nov.), in which he leads us to appreciate how Christ’s ongoing deification of the world — “that God may be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28) — manifests through Christian art.

I expect that most Catholics today have probably never heard of the doctrine of theosis, or deification, Christ’s activity in us by which we are “made partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4). This doctrine is, of course, the traditional way of understanding what Christian salvation means. As St. Dionysius the Areopagite says, “Salvation cannot otherwise take place, unless those who are being saved are being deified.” Even those contemporary Catholics who have heard of the doctrine of deification don’t typically recognize that deification is what accomplishes salvation. Moreover, even among the few who do recognize that, it remains, for most, one of those many abstract doctrinal propositions we believe, with no real impact on our daily lives. We might believe deification is something that will (we hope) occur after our death, not something in which we begin to participate even here during this life. Finally, even those Catholics who realize that deification is something in which we can share in this life usually reduce it to living a morally good life. They think we partake in Christ’s life and become like Him by being good people with the help of His grace. Of course, that is true. By growing in virtue, specifically the theological virtues, we become like Christ, and insofar as we become like Christ, we are deified. Yet we tend to reduce growing in virtue to how we relate to other people through our actions.

As important as this moral aspect of our life is, it is not the whole of our life. We forget that Christ doesn’t just want the moral and behavioral dimension of our life, but all of it. Put differently, we shouldn’t imitate Christ just in how we behave toward others but in every aspect of our life — how we spend our leisure time, what cultural activities we engage in, what sort of music we enjoy and appreciate, what we read, what we think about, what liturgies we attend, and so on. Furthermore, this extends beyond the way in which an individual is deified to ways in which Christians, culturally and corporately, assist Christ in deifying the whole world, that Christ may be all in all.

This is where Mr. Kronholz’s column shines so clearly and reminds us of something almost no one in the Catholic world today talks about: How, through our artistic endeavors, we share in Christ’s deification of the world. Of course, people in the Catholic world talk about how they do or do not like modern liturgical music, how we need to return to more traditional forms of worship, about good and bad architecture, and so on. But so often this is characterized either as a preference or as something we need to do because it’s traditional and beautiful or will help us evangelize better. Indeed, Kronholz refers to the sort of artistic revival he is advocating as a “tool of evangelization.” But it’s far more than a tool, as Kronholz also shows. By creating, engaging with, and participating in beautiful art, architecture, literature, music, and liturgy, we become conduits for Christ’s activity of deifying the sensible world. We thereby “preach the Gospel to every creature” (Mk. 16:15), as Christ instructs us to do. We preach not only to every person but to every creature, making every created thing imitate the uncreated beauty of Christ and participate in His divine life.

In the case of the sensible world, this means engaging in artistic endeavors that render all sense-perceptible beings symbols or icons of Christ’s divinity. Our mission is not just to make more people Catholic or to make more people believe in Jesus, as important as these things are, but to render the sensible world an icon of Christ through everything we do, including our cultural and artistic endeavors. Inasmuch as we are not doing this, as Kronholz says, “we must acknowledge a cultural dearth that demands a re-examination of our approach to our own humanity and to Christ’s divinity.”

Michael Wiitala

Cleveland, Ohio

I couldn’t agree more with Thomas J. Kronholz’s advocacy for the Church’s wholehearted return to artistic beauty. So often, our decisions and choices as a Church — specifically, in terms of music and visual art, as he so deftly highlights — seem more like reactions than actions, more passive than intentional. Out of the truth that we are living a deified reality through the grace of Christ, we need to embrace our call to create rather than re-create! Our calling as Christians is not to save, redeem, or, worse, imitate the secular culture around us; rather, we are called as bearers of Jesus’ name to initiate and invoke a new culture, one of life, hope, grace, faith, and charity, a culture that, as Kronholz says, “restores man’s vision of things as they truly are.” Art, in all its forms, that transcends the limits of human understanding is the very experience we so deeply long for, because that is the art that gives us glimpses into Heaven — the ultimate reality we are pressing forward to experience in all its fullness and glory!

Darryl Friesen

Winnipeg, Manitoba

Canada

Thomas J. Kronholz’s excellent reflection on the cultural impact of beauty and its opposites stands as a testament that true beauty is not completely lost from the modern world. Even a cultural lay-about can’t miss the abyss of hideous creations that assault us daily in sculpture, public discourse, and melody. If there is ever going to be restoration and healing of human souls in the West, it will require the supplanting of our current malaise with works of true integration, balance, and proportion.

Most of all, it will require the demolition of two popular beliefs that persistently cripple our sensibilities: that art is purely subjective, and that it is only tangential to a fully human life. Now in my seventh decade of life, I can still remember my high-school days when classes were categorized as A or B subjects, the latter considered not only less essential to education but also requiring little or no intellectual engagement. Singing in an outstanding chorus at our school convinced me to question this common belief. I suspect that the denigration of music — beautifully constructed music under the baton of our excellent conductor — grew out of the misconception that art is merely the external expression of inward subjectivity.

Reality is what is missing in contemporary malformations that fall under the rubric of art. Kronholz couldn’t be more on target when he says, “If integrated art restores man’s vision of things as they truly are, unintegrated art produces something exaggerated, less real.” Great fantasy writers as different as J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling share a common possession. They are grounded in reality. That is what allows them to stretch our vision and delight our souls at the same time. True art restores a person’s vision of the real.

Kenneth J. Howell, President

Pontifical Studies Foundation

Champaign, Illinois

THOMAS J. KRONHOLZ REPLIES:

I am honored by the favorable reflection of Dr. Kenneth Howell, whose recent book John Chrysostom: Theologian of the Eucharist embodies the very spirit of contemplation and literary beauty extolled in the original article. Indeed, his theological work exemplifies that deified reality so often absent from academic writing. In like manner, I am delighted by Dr. Michael Wiitala’s profound reflection, which itself constitutes an admirable essay. He rightly counsels us to pursue integrated lives worthy of our deified vocation. Finally, I appreciate Dr. Darryl Friesen’s insight into art’s greatest asset: its ability to overwhelm man’s intellect and lead him into contemplation. In this way, he emphasizes the need for true art, that man may look upon the divine.

Mass Appeal

Victor Bruno gives a good analysis of the current liturgical malaise in the Catholic Church, in which the faithful occupy a liturgical no man’s land between two extremes: the Tridentine Mass, on the one hand, and the tattered remnants of the 1960s folk Mass, on the other (“The Danger of Equating the Church with the Mass,” Oct.). He also hints at a deeper problem but refuses to use the one word that articulates it: schism. The Tridentine Mass is a gateway to schism. Whenever you hear someone utter terms like “Novus Ordo Catholic,” you are in the presence of a de facto schismatic who has committed a sin against charity by breaking communion with the Body of Christ, even if he doesn’t go to an illicit Tridentine Mass at a Society of St. Pius X chapel.

St. Augustine, in his classic treatises On Baptism and On the Donatists, explains clearly that schism is based on a lack of charity and leads to damnation because no one can be saved without love for one’s neighbor. St. Cyprian’s dictum extra ecclesiam nulla salus (“outside the Church there is no salvation”) refers to schismatics like the Donatists and their latter-day followers who believe they will be contaminated by association with a Church that is impure. It does not refer to members of the Yanomamo tribe in the Brazilian rainforest centuries before the arrival of Jesus Christ. The Donatists were a Judaizing sect who feared they would be contaminated by sinners in communion with Rome and felt it was their duty to separate themselves from the example of Christ, who shared meals with tax collectors and prostitutes. Those who denounce others who do not share their liturgical views as “Novus Ordo Catholics” are guilty of the same sin.

E. Michael Jones

Editor, Culture Wars

South Bend, Indiana

Victor Bruno skillfully highlights an issue that has long disturbed me regarding the commentary of advocates of the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), namely, their excessive zeal in exalting the TLM, and even more so their snide denigration of the Novus Ordo Mass, which appears to put them against (or even outside?) the Church. Their thunderous absolutism easily leads observers to dismiss them as striving to be “more Catholic than the Pope.” If they are to be effective in persuading prelates and the general laity, TLM advocates need to recognize that a middle ground can exist, and they must acknowledge that the most important thing about any Mass (TLM or Novus Ordo) is that Christ is truly present at the center.

As brothers and sisters in Christ, following the lead of the Holy Father who is charged with reading the signs of the times, we need to accept the reality of the post-Vatican II world in which we live and stay united as Christ’s Church in worshiping Our Lord at Mass. As Bruno correctly concludes, “the Church lords over the liturgy, and so much more.”

Michael Reilly

Wilmington, Delaware

Victor Bruno rightly points out that adherents to the TLM can find themselves in danger of separation from the Church by viewing as their adversaries the pope and local bishops, for the latter’s supposed opposition to liturgical and doctrinal correctness. Peter Kwasniewski makes the disturbing suggestion in his book The Once and Future Roman Rite (which Bruno references) that going to the Novus Ordo (NO) Mass is tantamount to sinning. But we are members of a visible Church, plainly manifest by connection to our local bishop and to the Holy Father. A go-it-alone attitude — “me and the true magisterium” — does not fly.

Taylor Marshall, a TLM podcaster with lots of listeners, often emphasizes the importance of devotion to the pope and remaining in the Church. And I understand that Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) chapels display a picture of the current pontiff. In the view of Marshall and SSPX members, they are in communion with the Church. I am not prepared to say otherwise. But the danger of separation, born of a casual adversarial attitude left to flourish, is real.

Nevertheless, I don’t think it’s true that TLMers must have a degree of separation from the Church. In view of the axiom “unity in essentials, tolerance in non-essentials, charity in all,” TLMers’ asking for tolerance of their preferred liturgy includes either (1) taking the stance that the essential thing exists in both the TLM and NO and, therefore, maybe the TLM is not, in fact, essential to the Catholic faith, or (2) demanding the NO be abolished, in which case they want not tolerance but unity around the TLM. But in neither case is this necessarily a Protestant stance. It can be either a desire for legitimate diversity or for unity around what is understood to be the correct principles.

One of the points TLMers try to make is that even the pope has no right to cast out the traditional liturgy. Papal authority is supreme, full, immediate, universal, and ordinary. But it is not absolute, meaning he cannot change doctrine. Bruno does not think that the form of the Mass is so tightly tied to doctrine. TLMers have substantive arguments that the Mass is both an expression and a teacher of doctrine. For the sake of brevity, I will not try to exposit any of these arguments here. Only let me point out that the sociological evidence alone can be pretty convincing. Since promulgation of the NO, there has been a collapse in belief among self-professed Catholics that the Eucharist is actually the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. Is it mere correlation that a liturgy with less kneeling, less solemn silence, and more focus on the congregation in the pews than on God, one that allows laymen to distribute Communion by hand, produces Catholics who don’t think with the mind of the Church on something so central as the Eucharist?

All that said, I agree with Pope Benedict XVI: The difference between the NO and the TLM is a matter of emphasis. When well celebrated, both offer edification, though in different ways. It seems there is room in the Church for both.

Paul Malocha

Westland, Michigan

I struggled to fully understand the argument Victor Bruno is making. I got the impression that he thinks I regularly attend the TLM and advocate for it as the only form of the Mass that should be allowed, that I am guilty of “equating the Church with the Mass,” to use his phrase. If this is the case, then Mr. Bruno is mistaken. I am not sure why he would think that is my view, as I didn’t make that point in the articles to which he refers, nor have I ever, as far as I can recall.

While it is the case that I would like to see the TLM flourish and those who love it to have more access to it, I do not attend it regularly myself. I am a Melkite Catholic, and when I cannot get to a Melkite or another Byzantine-rite liturgy, I happily attend the TLM, a Novus Ordo Mass, or an Ordinariate Mass, depending on what is available, and I always look for one that is celebrated with dignity and beauty. Of these three alternatives, I have probably attended the TLM least often.

I cannot speak for Peter Kwasniewski, whom Bruno also mentions, but I am an admirer of his and am proud to be on the roster of contributors to the New Liturgical Movement website along with him, even though we differ in our opinions in some regards.

In the articles of mine to which Bruno refers, I argue for the principle of subsidiarity in the exercise of authority in accordance with tradition as I understand it, and yes, that would allow bishops greater independence than is commonly seen today. I suggest that Vatican II is an antidote to Vatican I, which promoted the cult of the papacy and an unhealthy ultramontanism. I critique the tendency to ultramontanism today with both some liberals and some prominent TLM advocates in mind, though I didn’t mention them by name, as I generally try to focus on principles rather than people. Kwasniewski is not one of those I had in mind.

To Bruno’s point on synodality: If it is the same as subsidiarity, then I would be in favor of it, though I am not so sure it is. My understanding is that synods only make recommendations, and the authority for implementing those recommendations lies with the bishops individually — including, of course, the bishop of Rome, who has primacy. Perhaps I am wrong in this regard? I am not sure I agree with Bruno that Pope Francis was really in favor of subsidiarity, despite appearances. I am a distant observer, I admit, but I got the sense that he was only in favor of the recommendations of a synod to the degree that he agreed with what it said, and that by nature he was impulsively dictatorial. One of the positive impacts of Francis’s pontificate is that it helped many to move away from an excessive ultramontanism to a more balanced understanding of the role of the papacy.

David Clayton

New Liturgical Movement

Princeton, New Jersey

VICTOR BRUNO REPLIES:

I was surprised by the quantity and quality of the letters in response to my article on the Liturgy Wars. Unfortunately, I, unlike David Clayton, can’t discuss people’s ideas without giving credit to the people who espouse them, regardless of whether I approve of their ideas.

It makes me happy to announce that synodality, at least in theory, is subsidiarity. We know this because Pope Francis said so. We need, he said, “permanent conversion and purification.” We achieve it by following 12 principles, among them sobriety, subsidiarity, synodality, catholicity, professionalism, and discernment (“Christmas Greetings to the Roman Curia,” Dec. 22, 2016). Authors in the immediate post-Vatican II period said the same (see, e.g., the interview with Léon-Joseph Cardinal Suenens in El ciervo, 1969). I wonder if Clayton is comfortable in this company.

Yet, as Clayton indicates, Francis’s synodality might be pro forma. This is why we should follow the Holy Father — as, for instance, Bishop Wilhelm Emmanuel Von Ketteler, who opposed the dogma of infallibility, did after Vatican I. But it is becoming increasingly more evident that synodality means, in truth, nothing at all. Pope Leo XIV is doing everything he can to render the term meaningless. It is the Church that lasts forever, not popes. This point, despite seeming merely “ultramontane,” is logical, as the Church depends on continuity. The Church’s structure simply isn’t congenial with “here we ordain women but in the next diocese they don’t.” This doesn’t mean I am all for the New Mass. But neither am I prepared to say the things Peter Kwasniewski says.

To answer Paul Malocha: I think there’s a correlation in the declining number of Church attendance and what has transpired since the 1960s, though correlation isn’t causation. The remarkably coy character of papal interventions on crucial matters, the lax nature of seminaries, and wide variation in disciplinary issues weigh the same as Pope Paul VI’s reforms. In fact, they were what allowed the folk Masses, as E. Michael Jones puts it, in the 1970s. Again: I’d rather have a spectacular, four-hour Tridentine Mass than the liturgy I’m offered every Sunday in my parish. But that’s a matter of aesthetic preference. There’s no reason to believe that harsh discipline from Rome wouldn’t improve what’s done here. It might sound very un-American, but the Catholic Church isn’t a democracy. We need strong, orthodox central authority.

Keep Quiet, Will Ya?

Joseph Lewis Heil, in “Can Recent Scientific Developments Explain Supernatural Phenomena?” (Nov.), speculates that various occurrences that heretofore have been considered miraculous (e.g., the appearance of the Virgin Mary to Bernadette Soubirous) may be “explained” by a set of physical theories going under the name of M-theory. Specifically, he asks if the appearances of the Virgin Mary and even Christ Himself after His death could be manifestations of the extra dimensions (besides our three of space and one of time) posited by M-theory.

Supposing Mr. Heil’s speculation to be correct, in the future we might be able to explain Marian apparitions, visions of Heaven by comatose people, and other experiences currently in the category of miracles as simply manifestations of a well-understood physical law. As recently as 1875, if one person could communicate by voice and hearing with another person halfway around the world, such an experience would have been regarded as miraculous. Now that it happens countless times a day by exploiting physical laws, it has ceased to be regarded as miraculous and has joined the category of explainable everyday occurrences.

Does Heil really want Marian apparitions and appearances of Christ to join the category of explainable everyday occurrences? He does not state his motivation for raising such speculations in his article. Presumably, he wishes that more people would believe in the reality of such occurrences. And if they are shown to be explainable by means of a (perhaps newly discovered) physical law, he may hope that more people will believe that they occurred.

If this is his motivation, I fear Heil will be disappointed. Belief in God and the miracles He works requires the gift of faith. Those without faith will find a way to disbelieve, even if a physical explanation is made available in the future. It is just as likely that they will seize on the physical explanation as the true cause of the miracle, not a hypothetical God.

Raising questions is the first step on the road to discovery. But if the question raised cannot be satisfactorily answered at the time, sometimes the best counsel is simply to wait quietly until it can be. In the case of Marian apparitions and M-theory, we may have a long wait in store.

Karl D. Stephan

San Marcos, Texas

Joseph Lewis Heil cites the Parnia study regarding near-death experiences (NDE). In 2023 Sam Parnia and his colleagues worked with 25 hospitals in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Bulgaria to review electroencephalography and brain-oxygen data of 567 patients who experienced cardiac arrest while in the hospital. Fifty-three patients survived. Parnia and his colleagues were able to interview 28 of them, but only six had had an NDE. Parnia also sought to test unconscious and conscious awareness by projecting a series of ten random images on a tablet placed near patients’ heads and playing a repeated recording of the names of three fruits to them through headphones every minute for five minutes while they were unconscious. Only one of the survivors could remember the images that had been projected. Even though I believe in life after death, it seems to me that Parnia’s study did not prove it. If you equate consciousness with the soul, then his study indicates that some people have souls and others do not.

Contrary to the claim that theoretical physicists are in consensus regarding string theory and M-theory, Sir Roger Penrose, winner of the 2020 Nobel Prize in Physics, especially dislikes string theory, finding it neither testable nor falsifiable. Concerning M-theory, which is intended to encompass all the different string theories, Penrose writes in The Road to Reality: A Complete Guide to the Laws of the Universe (2004) that string theorists have a “seemingly cavalier attitude to their spacetime’s dimensions! I have already expressed my considerable unease with this type of argument.”

Heil’s conclusion is contradictory. First, he writes that Mary’s 18 visits to Bernadette at Lourdes are “presently beyond scientific explanation,” then he provides a scientific explanation, “the multidimensional, metaphysical reality ‘uncurled’ momentarily into our three-dimensional physical world.” I wish religious people would stop using physics to try to explain supernatural phenomena. As the pre-eminent theoretical physicist Gerard ‘t Hooft, professor emeritus at Utrecht University in the Netherlands and the 1999 Nobel recipient, said, “Some people are galloping away into nonsense, linking [the holographic principle] with supernatural features and poorly defined dimensionality…. We have to try to phrase things more precisely to keep public misunderstandings from wreaking havoc on science.”

Rosalyn Becker

Fort Myers, Florida

I like the NOR. It helps me focus on what’s important in life, challenges me with words I have never seen before, gives me news I might have missed, and is one of the frequent subjects in letters I exchange with a cousin. But Joseph Lewis Heil’s article forces me to ask, “Where was the adult in the room when this article was selected for publication?” For a magazine fond of vocabulary, how can “science explains the supernatural” be anything but an oxymoron? It doesn’t help when the theory purporting to do the explaining, string theory, hasn’t won the title of science; it has not yet made a prediction tested by observation.

Further, the Immaculate Conception’s interactions with St. Bernadette is beyond the reach of science. Those interactions have been examined by the Church, which has recognized at least 72 related cures as miraculous. These aren’t observations of some quantum forces. These are changes in human lives that could not have happened if the natural laws as we know them were being followed. Who would put these two things — natural laws and unnatural outcomes — in the same basket?

I strongly recommend the NOR hire an advisor actually conversant with science and give him the power to say about a submission, “No, that is silly.” (That said, I enjoyed Heil’s short history of St. Bernadette. I even found the movie he cites on YouTube.)

John L. Dyer

Vienna, Virginia

THE EDITOR REPLIES:

Is “science explains the supernatural” an oxymoron? Not necessarily. The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines supernatural as “surpassing the power of created beings; a result of God’s gracious initiative.” The American Heritage Dictionary defines science as “the observation, identification, description, and experimental investigation and theoretical application of phenomena.” Where’s the contradiction? Mary’s apparitions to Bernadette were phenomena that resulted from God’s gracious initiative. Why shouldn’t we investigate and apply theories to them?

The supernatural might be beyond our power, but is it beyond our comprehension? Again, not necessarily. As the Catechism states, “The humble and persevering investigator of the secrets of nature is being led, as it were, by the hand of God” (no. 159; italics added). Faith seeks understanding, and the believer seeks to know better the God in whom he has placed his faith by seeking to understand what his God has revealed of Himself. That’s why “methodological research in all branches of knowledge, provided it is carried out in a truly scientific manner…can never conflict with the faith, because the things of the world and the things of faith derive from the same God” (ibid., italics added).

It’s puzzling that some believers would prefer not to investigate the things about which God has given us to learn. It’s an impoverishment of faith to prefer ignorance of science.

As for the validity of string theory and M-theory (and its apparent “silliness”), that they are designated as theories should give us a clue as to their current status in the scientific community. As Heil writes, “M-theory is still being developed and refined.” It’s nowhere near being considered “settled science.” Neither is our universe anywhere near being completely understood. As Heil also writes, M-theory is “struggling to understand” the universe God created. Is it “silly” to apply a speculative theory in a speculative manner to something we don’t understand in order to try to understand it better? Isn’t that the purpose of scientific pursuits in the first place?

JOSEPH LEWIS HEIL REPLIES:

I mention near-death and out-of-body experiences that indicate a transphysical soul that survives clinical death. I was inspired by Fr. Robert Spitzer’s beautiful description and analysis of these realities in his excellent book Science at the Doorstep to God: Science and Reason in Support of God, the Soul, and Life after Death. It wasn’t M-theory that prompted me to ask, “How could the Blessed Mother Mary, dead for more than 1,800 years, appear to Bernadette?” Rather, it was those clinically dead persons whose immortal souls went to Heaven, or approached Heaven, but were sent back to reveal their experiences and live a few more years on Earth. How could such things happen if there isn’t a transcendent spiritual order comprised of dimensions imperceptible to human senses?

For those who do not believe in near-death or out-of-body experiences, my article will be of little interest. However, for Catholics who profess to believe in “the life of the world to come,” my article should proffer comfort. Where is this world to come, which we call Heaven? It must be a real place, because Our Lord told the good thief on the day they both died that they would be together in Paradise.

Karl D. Stephan asks if I “want Marian apparitions and appearances of Christ to join the category of explainable everyday occurrences.” Well, yes, though I intended the article to be purely speculative, as I, obviously, have no authority to claim anything more. Nevertheless, Stephan, despite his deep reliance on faith, cannot possibly disprove the speculation. I must remind him that our rich Catholic intellectual tradition is one of both faith and reason. Belief in God, Stephan writes, requires the gift of faith. I agree. However, it is human reason with deep understanding and logic that has discovered innumerable proofs for the existence of God that strengthen our faith mightily (see Peter Kreeft’s Handbook of Catholic Apologetics).

Regarding Rosalyn Becker’s comments: To clarify, I did not write or even suggest that theoretical physicists are in consensus regarding string theory or M-theory. I quoted Brian Greene that physicists worldwide are working toward a full understanding of M-theory, that is, a theory that unifies the physics of the very large with the physics of the very small.

Mrs. Becker says my conclusion is “contradictory.” No, it isn’t. I simply offered a speculative scientific explanation, for which there is no verifiable explanation at this time. There’s nothing contradictory about my doing so.

John L. Dyer says, “The Immaculate Conception’s interactions with St. Bernadette are beyond the reach of science. Those interactions have been examined by the Church, which has recognized at least 72 related cures as miraculous.” To the best of my knowledge, the Church has never examined the question of how those interactions (or apparitions) occurred. Yes, the miraculous cures at Lourdes are beyond scientific explanation, but Mary’s appearance there is a completely different kind of miracle, because it involved a living, breathing, lovely young woman with a specific agenda, that is, directing little Bernadette to dig for a trickle of a spring. It is, therefore, very much a worthy subject of scientific wonderment.

Sex Differences & the Divine Plan

Kaleb Hammond’s mission in “Tolkien’s Insights into the Feminine Soul” (Nov.) is not an easy one: to present J.R.R. Tolkien’s profound conviction that the distinction between the sexes corresponds to a divine plan in which each half of the male-female pair has its own specific, irreplaceable charisms and functions. His task becomes even more difficult because he focuses on the feminine part of the equation, which, in the past century, has been subjected to an egalitarian-feminist propaganda that has almost completely eclipsed its specific identity.

Hammond’s immersion in Tolkien’s world begins, naturally, with presenting the feminine figures who illuminate the biography of the author of The Lord of the Rings: his mother, Mabel, and his wife, Edith. Without falling into false idealism, Tolkien had the opportunity to see, concretely, the extraordinarily substantial fruits of an authentic femininity that did not lose its contours under the influence of the feminist ideology already manifesting itself in the early 20th century.

For Tolkien, Mabel embodies the heroism of those women for whom the birthing and raising of new worshipers of Our Lord Jesus Christ represent the supreme purpose of their lives. Considered by Tolkien to be a true martyr, she died defending and transmitting to her two boys, John Ronald Reuel and Hilary Arthur Reuel, the Catholic faith for which she lost her rights in relation to her Protestant family. Edith, meanwhile, is an icon of discretion; yet we sense a feminine presence that illuminated the life of the author who found it fitting to compare her to the most famous female figure in his legendarium: Lúthien Tinúviel, the immortal princess of Doriath, wife of the legendary and unequalled hero Beren Erchamion. This enthusiastic identification tells us much about the qualities of the woman who provided Tolkien with a second feminine model (after that of his mother).

Of course, it is the supreme archetype of femininity, the Queen of the Universe, the Most Holy Virgin Mary, who shapes the deeply Catholic vision of the young author. Her virtue of humility — at which she excelled more than anyone else in human history — and her exceptional maternity are understood as key virtues of femininity and allow us to understand both the essential traits of any daughter of the New Eve and the temptations and weaknesses of those who fail or even, alas, refuse to follow this irreplaceable model.

The heroines of The Lord of the Rings, Hammond tells us, are not without weakness. But at the same time, they manage, after a great inner struggle, to overcome them by respecting their rightful place in the economy of Middle-earth’s history. Here we have a crucial lesson for any woman who wishes to know and respect the place that God Himself, the supreme Creator, has assigned her on the theatrum mundi. Galadriel, a princess belonging to a prestigious Elven royal house, shows what it means to practice the virtue of humility against the temptation of power to which anyone of her rank is inevitably exposed. Thus, as Hammond rightly emphasizes, “Galadriel does not seek to rule or dominate others.” In other words, she restrains the vain impulses that her status might have provoked. Moreover, she never forgets that she is a wife and, therefore, owes obedience to her husband, King Celeborn. In short, what Hammond highlights (using the excellent exegesis developed by Richard Purtill) is Galadriel’s quality of being “in her proper place.”

Éowyn, the fierce maiden of Rohan, seems to exemplify the temptations of feminism. For she does not show, in contrast to Galadriel, that she knows her place. On the contrary, she seems to yield to the temptation of taking on typically masculine roles. Even the hidden king, Aragorn Elessar, is forced to correct her impulses by pointing out that few are capable of assuming and honorably fulfilling the demands of warrior heroism. Hammond cites Joseph Pearce, who rightly notes that Éowyn’s temptation is that of “those who demand their rights over their responsibilities.” However, the ending is a positive one, for Éowyn succeeds in overcoming her weaknesses and temptations, ultimately finding her place as Faramir’s wife and, of course, as a (future) mother. Thus, even this character cannot be used by feminist exegesis to promote its ideas and agenda.

Few tasks are as difficult as reminding people what it truly means for a woman to be a woman as a woman. Hammond manages to bring his own contribution to this work as teacher, catechist, and lover of literature inspired by Christianity.

Robert Lazu Kmita

Stresa, Verbano-Cusio-Ossola

Italy

Kaleb Hammond emphasizes that Tolkien does not fall into the trap of idolizing women in the chivalrous medieval tradition. Rather, women are much more complex than that; both women and men share in the fallenness of humanity.

I do, however, question Hammond’s listing of faults specific to men and women — those he mentions seem to be universally human, and his characterization of masculine vs. feminine vices veers dangerously close to stereotyping. I’m also not sure what “women trying to impersonate men” means. This statement is quite broad. Does it mean women should not be allowed in certain professions? (And who makes those decisions?) Should women not demand equal pay for equal work?

Hammond continues with the qualities of Galadriel, “the mightiest and fairest of all the Elves.” Her purity, her courage, and her humility all reflect the qualities of the Blessed Mother. However, we must also acknowledge that there is a fierceness in both women. In the Second Age, Galadriel was also a warrior and a leader in the rebellion of the Noldor and their flight from Valinor. (We are told in The Silmarillion that Galadriel was the only woman of the Noldor to stand among the princes.) This was not an imitation of the masculine; it was the very essence of feminine strength. Mary showed the same fierceness with her fiat mihi assent. As far as I know, every man who has encountered an angel had to be reassured not to be afraid. Mary beheld Gabriel and did not succumb to terror; she knew what she was being asked to do and bravely submitted.

Éowyn also has a distinctly Marian role. I don’t think she wants to “forsake her natural femininity”; rather, in a world that is totally defined by masculine strength, she seeks her own expression of feminine strength. The image of the Blessed Mother crushing the head of Satan is fierce, and it comes from feminine strength, not to be mistaken for masculine strength. It is a maternal strength, that of the labor of childbirth, the maternal instinct of protecting one’s children and, by expansion, the children of others as well.

I’m not sure that there is actually mockery of housekeeping/housewives among feminists. Rather, healthy feminism focuses on the choices available to women. Some are called to different paths — not better, not superior, just different. Although Éowyn disobeys her king/uncle and disguises herself as a man to go to war, she ends up defeating the Witch-king of Angmar, a task no man could accomplish. It could be argued that this task was hers alone.

The love of Faramir for Éowyn transforms her, as love transforms all of us. I would argue that she would not have been open to Faramir’s love had she not accomplished her charism and her part in the story, the defeat of the Witch-king. Having completed her task, one particular phase of her life, she was free to come to the realization that she would now be a healer and a lover of all growing things.

All the female characters in Tolkien’s writings are indeed complex. And, just as they are, we are all called to be lights in the world and, as members of the Body of Christ, to participate in bringing creation forward. Hammond opens a welcome conversation regarding women’s participation in the world of Tolkien and in our own.

Marguerite Mullee

Adjunct Lecturer, Catholic Intellectual Tradition, Sacred Heart University

Fairfield, Connecticut

Kaleb Hammond offers a luminous meditation on the Marian dimensions of Tolkien’s moral imagination, showing that the feminine soul in The Lord of the Rings is neither ornamental nor oppositional but sacramental. Through Galadriel and Éowyn, Tolkien reveals the mystery of grace and freedom: Woman’s strength lies not in domination but in sanctified self-gift, mirrored in the fiat of the Blessed Virgin. Hammond reminds us that Tolkien’s realism — his awareness of fallen nature — deepens his reverence for femininity. His female characters reflect God’s beauty shining through the world.

At a time when culture confuses equality with sameness, Hammond retrieves Tolkien’s vision of complementarity as communion, not competition. Galadriel’s “I will diminish and remain myself” echoes Mary’s Magnificat, while Éowyn’s transformation from shieldmaiden to healer proclaims vocation renewed through love. Hammond’s article thus becomes theological catechesis, unveiling in Tolkien’s heroines Mary’s radiant humility.

Sebastian Mahfood, President

En Route Books and Media

St. Louis, Missouri

A Matter of Perspective

Robert J. Rolfes Jr. (letter, Nov.) is highly critical of Donald Trump. I confess I am not familiar with the charges he lays out against the U.S. President. My observation is that there seems to be an unhealthy media bias against Mr. Trump, not least in my own country of Ireland. However, in fairness to the President, there is another side to the story.

Trump owns a golf resort in County Clare on the west coast of Ireland. He and his family are reasonably frequent visitors, and the feedback is very positive. The resort employs many locals, the vast majority of whom speak well of Trump, his family, and their interactions with them. So, I think it’s only right to point out that others have a different perspective than Dr. Rolfes.

Eric Conway

Navan, Meath

Ireland

Maybe Dr. Rolfes should write himself a prescription for Prozac. It might help.

The world is a vale of tears. Where is this (overseas) Shangri-La to which he wants to relocate? Even there, politics is a dirty business. Anyone who looks to a politician for moral courage or as a moral compass is more delusional than the politician.

Clara Sarrocco

Glendale, New York

Dr. Rolfes’s letter is just short of hate speech, with unverifiable “local stories” about President Trump, showing (if any were based in fact) an obvious disbelief that a person can change. Two Scripture verses come to mind: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” and “By their fruits you shall know them.” President Trump has done much to try to end legal abortion, protect religious freedom, protect Americans from criminal illegal immigrants, protect our other freedoms, and improve future opportunities for all Americans.

In his reply to Dr. Rolfes, the editor states that Trump “seems to be the sword that’s currently dividing America, American families, and even American hearts” — a totally unfair, untrue, and prejudiced remark! Considering the terribly corrupt — and likely criminal — actions of the presidents who immediately preceded Trump, this observation is ridiculous.

Cancel my subscription.

Louana Simmens

Grand Rapids, Minnesota

THE EDITOR REPLIES:

Better make that two prescriptions for Prozac.

Louana Simmens has inadvertently confirmed that Trump is the sword that divides: He’s divided her from the rest of our readership (and who knows what other relationships). It goes to show that so-called Trump Derangement Syndrome cuts both ways. It’s an “unhealthy bias,” as Eric Conway calls it, not only against Trump but for him as well, and it’s driving both his supporters and his detractors to extreme, and extremely illogical, positions. As Clara Sarrocco says, it’s delusional to look to politicians as a moral compass.

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