When my siblings and I were young, we had no TV; my folks did not take us to the movies, and we loved spending time at home and with our young cousins.  Were we rich or poor? We did not know nor did we ever think about it: The words meant absolutely nothing to us. We never went hungry or homeless.  Our best times were spent on vacation, in grandpa’s cabin in the Alps, where walking through the woods every day to the spring, to get drinking and cooking water was a adventure, and taking a bath on the terrace, in a tub of water that had been warmed by the sun was fun. We shared the “laundry facility” (two huge, connecting outdoor tubs, fed by another spring), with the village’s milk cows, taking care that the tub with the suds was clean and filled with fresh water by dusk, when the cows returned from their pasture to drink, before heading to their stables to be milked.  Grandpa told us old stories, mom and dad loved us.  When the pantry was low, before payday, mom improvised. Ever had “hot homemade chocolate pudding” for dinner? Yum! No radio, no refrigerator, one naked light-bulb hanging from the middle of every ceiling, and a fireplace to keep us warm in the evenings. Now, that’s happiness!

Then one year I got a summer job in an office in Rome, where we lived. I was 18 and shared the office with the full-time secretary, a 26-year-old woman. That’s the first time that I had to defend my Catholic Faith.  Loredana, also a cradle Catholic, had issues with the Church, and one day she asked me: “Wouldn’t it make you feel like a fool if, after dying, you found out that God did not exist, the Church was all wrong, and you followed the Commandments for nothing?” I thought a moment and then answered: “No. I have nothing to lose, because I will have had a very happy life, trying to do what is right, and living in hope of Heaven.  Besides, even if I am wrong and there should be no life after death, I would not know it. Right? On the other hand, I would not want to be in the shoes of those who deny God and live according to their wills. If they are wrong, and find themselves before Him at the hour of their death, they’d be in a real pickle.” End of conversation.

Some years later, after I came to the US, a young, cradle Catholic relative of my husband’s who was visiting us made the following statement: “I know that you go to church and read the Bible. I follow the Satanic bible. The only difference between your Bible and mine is that mine is based on pleasure and yours on sacrifice.” I just looked at her. If she could see no difference between a life based on self-sacrifice and one based on pleasure, I’d follow an old Italian advice: “Save your breath for when you die.”

These are two early, personal experiences of hostility against Christianity in general, and Catholicism in particular. As the years go by, I notice that the attacks against the Church are becoming more vicious, more widespread, and more intolerant. Why? Why would a Church that preaches charity, love of neighbor, forgiveness of enemies, and help to those who need it, be so hated? Why does the media seem to rejoice every time that Christians, and especially priests, fall into sin (aren’t we all sinners)?

The reasons may be many, but thinking back on my first encounters with hostility, it seems that one of the main motives is a mistaken interpretation of “happiness.” The Founding Fathers of our nation were Christians, and wanted a Country where all could enjoy “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” If we take the Christian context out of the equation, “happiness” becomes a vague ideal.  If we stop believing that the word “happiness” means “our journey towards Heaven,” then the word is open to all kinds of interpretations, and we become thoroughly confused.

We have daily example of the futility of following our own definition of “happiness,” but it seems that few realize it. The news are always full of celebrities, with good looks, money, prestige, fame etc. who commit suicide, or fall addicted to drugs, alcohol, sex or become mentally ill. Pleasure did not fulfill their needs. As Fr. Hilton says: “Trying to fill our hearts with anything other than God is like trying to fill the Grand Canyon with pebbles, one at a time.”

We have become convinced that any sort of suffering is the ultimate evil, and what stands in the way of pleasure has to be eliminated. Thus we have abortion: “how dare a child stand in the way of my sexual pleasure?” Now we’re moving steadily towards euthanasia: “my life is painful, I have a right to end it”. I wonder how soon this “right to die” will become a “duty to die”?

We are celebrating “The year of the priest.” Nothing seems to infuriate the defenders of “pleasure” like the celibate priesthood. The witness of men who, called by God, voluntarily donating their entire self to His service is an abomination to those who do not value sacrifice. Why? Can’t they see that the relentless pursuit of pleasure has never brought anyone happiness; while self-giving for the sake of the Kingdom has brought joy to untold numbers, and continues to do so?