RESIST Microchips in Our Bodies



Three Square Market, a Wisconsin company, is putting data-laden microchip implants into the bodies of their employees,  according Jeff Baenen of the Chicago Tribune.  As indicated in his article “Wisconsin company holds ‘chip party’ to microchip workers,   “A brief sting is all employees of a Wisconsin technology company said they felt Tuesday when they received a microchip implant in their hand that will allow them to open doors, log onto computers or buy breakroom snacks by simply waving their hand.”

According to the principle of subsidiarity, as described  by the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “a community of a higher order should not interfere in the internal life of a community of a lower order, depriving the latter of its functions, but rather should support it in case of need and help to co- ordinate its activity with the activities of the rest of society, always with a view to the common good.”

Inserting data-laden microchips into our bodies goes against the principle of subsidiarity.   The higher level “community” of managers/owners should not be inserting microchips into the bodies of employees.  People can log into a computer on their own. People can buy snacks by producing payment on their own. They don’t need technological assistance with an inserted microchip in their bodies. The chip in question doesn’t have a GPS. It doesn’t mean in the future it won’t have one. Having this chip inserted is voluntary at the moment.  If too many people comply presently, it’s likely the chip won’t be voluntary in the future.

Imagine not being able to buy anything without the chip, not being able to do banking without the chip, not being able to turn on your car or enter your home without the chip. Then imagine the havoc that could be wreaked with malfunctioning of the chip or the intentional malicious altering of data.


RESIST now, before it is too late. We are more than technology. We are more than data.


By Marianne Bovee


Nietzsche and Sartre in the Garden of Eden


Nietzsche and Sartre are walking in the Garden of Eden. God tells them: “You are free to eat from any of the trees of the garden except the tree of knowledge of good and bad. From that tree you shall not eat; the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die.”

But the serpent said to them: “You certainly will not die! No, God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is bad.”

Nietzsche and Sartre end up eating of the fruit because they want to be like gods.

But why did the serpent tell Adam and Eve that they would know what was good and what was evil after eating of the fruit?  After all, didn’t God tell them that eating from a certain tree was evil and that eating from all other plants was good? By all appearances, they already knew what good and bad were.

But before they sinned, they only really knew the good!  They had no experience of what evil or turning away from God was. And the very act of rejecting God’s laws, of rejecting God as lawgiver, puts the person into the seat of being a lawgiver, into godlike status. He who does not serve God serves himself and creates his own personal laws. And a lawgiver presumably knows what good and bad actually are.

Once one turns from God—rejecting His commandments, His inspirations of grace–one has chosen another set of prescriptions for what is right and wrong. One has chosen one’s own prescriptions for right and wrong.

Nietzsche, author of the work Beyond Good and Evil, does not think that he must follow the values that ordinary mortals hold. God is dead to him. Nietzsche is the Superman or Űbermensch who feels he’s entitled to create his own standards for good and evil.

Nietzsche sends out an invitation to others to follow that path.

God does not exist for Sartre either, and therefore, says Sartre, there is no human nature, no ideal template for us to aspire to. We are pure freedom, pure possibility.  He says we are “condemned to be free.” This freedom is not the kind of freedom that has us doing the good in the sense of following the will of God, in the sense that Aquinas would maintain. Sartre’s kind of freedom is a burden because there are no rules, no standards of good and evil. We have to create those as we create our very selves because no God exists to have already done that job for us.

Sartre sends out an invitation to others to follow his path.

In eating of the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve went beyond the boundaries of good and evil given to them by God. Adam and Eve thought that eating the fruit–violating God’s law–was a good thing for them to do. In that act, they created their own notions of what was good and what was evil. And they rejected the nature God had given them, the human nature which was preordained by God to be happy only in doing His will. In rejecting God, they became like gods. For it is the role of a god to designate what is good and what is evil and to create the essence of whatever exists.

But it is not just Adam and Eve and Nietzsche and Sartre who formulate their own moralities, as a god would. It’s not just Nietzsche and Sartre who do not accept divinely ordained constraints on one’s actions and insist on choosing their destinies in complete freedom.  We do it, too, in each and every act of turning from God. When we say no to God, we are telling Him that we see something else as the good. When we say no to God, we reject the essence of our being that He created and substitute our own ideas of what an ideal human being should be.

We have met Nietzsche and Sartre in the Garden—and they are us.


Marianne Bovée


(image: Elizabeth Keyser, Expulsion from the Garden of Eden,


Ash Wednesday Reflection: the Joyful Mysteries

Ash Wednesday is quite in tune with the Joyful Mysteries of the rosary, although at first glance it might not be apparent.

Ash Wednesday is about doing God’s will as we start Lent, a process that will take us through to Good Friday with the crucifixion and then to Easter, with the resurrection of Jesus. Ashes–and thinking about how we will return to dust– can help us think about doing God’s will. But so can the Joyful Mysteries.

The first Joyful Mystery is the Annunciation. The angel announces to Mary that she is to be the mother of Jesus. Mary responds, “Be it done unto me according to thy word.”  This is a statement of receptivity, a statement of assent to God’s will. There is no resistance. Whatever God wants, God gets. Mary is setting the example for us. If God wants us to fast, we fast. If God wants us to go to Mass more frequently, we go to Mass more frequently. If God wants us to pray more, we pray more.  Whatever sort of inspiration we have to give up for Lent  or to do extra for God for Lent–if we say in our hearts, “Be it done unto me according to thy Word,” we are following the Marian spirit, the example of Mary in her complete compliance to the will of God. And that is what we want during Lent: conformity of our will to that of God.

The second Joyful Mystery is the Visitation. Mary has gone out to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who, though too old to bear children, nevertheless is now pregnant with John the Baptist, who leaps in Elizabeth’s womb upon seeing Mary. Mary has been told wonderful news by the angel and could just sit around contemplating matters in her heart, keeping it to herself or just sharing it with Joseph. But she doesn’t do that. She does not settle for complacency. She goes out of her way to travel and be in the community. She is oriented toward others. She helps her cousin in her own pregnancy. Mary is a person of service. She serves others in love.  She has said, “Be it done unto me according to thy word,” and this assent to God’s will has not resulted in an introversion but extroverted efforts to go out and serve. We are all called to service, especially in the Lenten season.  In being responsive to God’s will we are all called to be in community. God’s will and our love for others are not separate: God’s will for us to is to love others.

The third Joyful Mystery is the birth of Jesus. The birth of Jesus comes after 1) Mary has submitted her will totally to God and 2) Mary serves others in the love of God.  The soul turns to God and then at once turns to others.  It is not a selfish, inwardly focused love. Love by its nature is not consumed with self; love by its nature is given to others. God the infinite power of the universe, deigned to humble Himself to be born among us as a little baby. Such majesty and power demonstrated such humility.

In gratitude, we need to humble ourselves more frequently during Lent in the sacrament of Penance. When we prostrate ourselves before God spiritually, ignoring our pride, we receive His grace–give birth to his grace–in our hearts. Confession is important because we want to prepare our souls to receive Him properly in the Eucharist.  Infinite love poured Himself out to us in the Incarnation and does so again in the Eucharist. We consume Jesus in the Eucharist, and then we, too, allow ourselves to be consumed by others as we serve them. People take up our time; they consume our time, our energies, especially with our Lenten resolutions. With Love making His home in us, we are able to love others.

The fourth Joyful Mystery is the Presentation. Jesus is presented to the temple as the first born.  As is Jewish custom, Joseph and Mary pay the money amount according to Judaic law to “redeem” Jesus, so that they don’t have to hand him over to become a priest instead. However, in the temple, Simeon tells them Jesus is the savior of the world and that a sword (of grief) will pierce Mary’s heart.  Consequently, Mary has knowingly offered her Son, her wonderful child up to God for His purposes.  Jesus is her everything. But she willingly and without hesitation gives Him up. It is a kind of death, as indicated in the imagery of her heart being pierced.

We, too, are called to be ready at any time to give up our most prized possessions, our most fervent loves, to God.  Are we patient when something we have lost or had stolen is gone? Do we still praise God when family and friends pass away? Do we still sing joyfully to God when our abilities sometimes diminish with old age and infirmities creep in? Lent calls us to spiritually present everything before God as an offering to Him.

Finally, in the fifth Joyful Mystery, Jesus is found in the Temple. He’s twelve years old now, and his parents lose track of him on a trip to Jerusalem during Passover. They find him talking to the elders in the Temple; they find Him doing the will of His Father in the Temple. There was no need to worry; He was doing the will of God. This mystery is connected with the fourth mystery, where Mary gives up her Son in the Temple, knowing He is the Messiah. She has already died to self in her completely relinquishing her son at the Presentation; now in finding Jesus in the Temple she is overjoyed, so happy to get Him back. In leaving everything in God’s hands, in God’s will, she dies to self in the fourth mystery and has a resurrection of spirit in the fifth mystery.

In doing God’s will, in following the example of Jesus’ passion and resurrection, we, too, especially during the Lenten season, are called to die to self: only then can we rise with Him. The love of God in us as we do God’s will–with no attachment to our own–gives us a foretaste of our resurrection in heaven.

In sum, Ash Wednesday starts us off with the first Joyful Mystery, in which we resolve to conform our will to that of God, and in the rest of the Joyful Mysteries Mary encourages us to follow Jesus spiritually from his passion, death and then resurrection at Easter.

Marianne Bovée



(image: from Youtube: Catholic Deliverance Power)


The Demise of the Ringling Brothers Circus: A Case of Displaced Empathy


As a child I loved having pets in my life, but these days an observation bothers me: As many people prevent the birth of children through birth control and abortion, the surplus of empathy and the instinct to nurture is placed onto something (or some might say, someone) else: the animal.  The demise of the Ringling Brothers Circus, coming as a result of American sensitivity to the plight of animals, highlights an irony: many people zealously protect the feelings of animals while at the same time, condone tearing apart, without anesthetic, unborn children limb from limb–treating them more poorly than they would a circus animal.

Philosopher Peter Singer’s utilitarian valuing of some animals as persons more than the fetus or the newborn does not take into account the millennia we have spent in nurturing our own kind. For thousands of years, mothers have had babies, suckled them, raised them, with the help of fathers, and often with grandparents. Sometimes babies died, sometimes mothers did, and families grieved.

Although historically some women have tried to kill their unborn children or placed their defective newborns out into the elements to die, the anti-child mentality did not have the force that it has on many people today.

Over 90% of American women have used artificial birth control at some point in their lives and over 60% of women of reproductive age are using it now.

About 1 in 3 American women have committed abortions.

What is the psychological effect on the couples who knowingly say no to children every time they have sex? What is the psychological effect on the couples who kill their unborn children when birth control does not work?

Has the instinct to cuddle the child, to smile at the child, to speak to it in soft voices, been squashed?  No. It has not. We can’t change our human nature.

The instinct has not been squashed. It’s merely been rechanneled: like a dam built on a river redirects water.

Now many people “ooh” and “ah” over every little thing that Susie does. That is, Susie their Siamese cat. And post onto Facebook the latest video of antics that George has carried out. George, their bull dog puppy.

Many say they can’t afford children; they don’t have the time or money. Yet they take their dogs for countless walks and spend thousands of dollars on veterinarian bills.

Children used to wear hand-me-down clothing from older siblings or relatives, and boys’ pants used to have patches sown on the knees from wear and tear. Mothers and grandmothers stayed home and had backyard gardens and canned vegetables to save money and provide wholesome meals. Parents made do with fewer material things in order to accommodate a house full of children.

Now many ship their child–or maybe two–to day care centers and let them get nurturing there (where animals are brought in  for emotional support) while women fulfill themselves in the workplace.

Many parents overly nurture the mere handful of children they do have because there are so few of them: consequently, the children are the most pampered, the most protected, the most sheltered they’ve ever been. And with fewer of them, the demands on them to be the best reflections of their parents are even higher.

Going contrary to nature by preventing the birth of children has resulted in the rechanneling of instincts for nurturing with a bizarre result: billions are spent on animal food, animal toys, animal clinics and hospitals, animal psychologists, animal day care centers, animal cemeteries. People say the animals are members of their family. They call themselves their parents. Dogs are their best friends. Cats greet them at the door. Both dogs and cats sleep with them in their beds. They mourn them as they would mourn lovers–or children–when they die.

Are people better off when they value animals above children? Are they happier when they treat animals like they were their babies instead of having children (or more children) of their own?

I once was an overnight guest in a home with one adult child. The elderly parents sat in front of the television with the one adult child and one stuffed toy rabbit placed center stage on a table.  The condo didn’t allow pets. So they had a stuffed animal. And they talked to it. They talked to the stuffed toy animal about what was talking place on the television program. They treated it like a person. My thought was this: they only had one child, and so their human need to nurture had nowhere to go. And so they ended up nurturing a stuffed animal.

In planning rabbitparenthood, we might want to give the old-fashioned, natural way a second look. We might find ourselves happier for it.

Marianne  Bovée