An Oscar Speech You’ll Never, Ever Hear: Trigger Warning – Truth Zone

“If we ever forget that we are one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under.” Ronald Reagan, 40th President

“I just know that every man I kill, the farther away from home I feel.” Tom Hanks as Capt. Miller, Saving Private Ryan

The Academy Awards telecast is Sunday night, February 24^th, and once again a tiny but powerful segment of our culture nervously fantasizes about a potential life changing moment when they can hold a little gold dude with a sword. Some in that auditorium might say that a patriarchal, sexist, paganesque statue wearing swim trunks and holding a weapon of mass destruction is triggering, but good luck getting a show of hands to support that sentiment. People do have priorities.

On Sunday night at the Oscars, very talented artists will preen in front of thousands on a red carpet. As the lights go down and the show begins, a nominated few will muse on being the focus of admiring millions and will pray – not quite sure to whom or what – that ultimately, they will be the One.

Other than snippets, I haven’t watched the Oscars in years, but I’ve always enjoyed good movies. I just wish there were more of them. Since I’m not a Marvel/DC fan, I don’t pay much attention to today’s blockbusters. In trying to figure out my apathy toward the Avengers, Guardians, Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman, I think it may boil down to two things – nonhierarchical and confusing super powers and, “What does it take to kill somebody around here?”

Let me explain. There are twenty-five to thirty prominent superheroes, and I have no idea as to who can beat up whom. That seems too egalitarian for my tastes, like giving a trophy to the worst team in Little League. There needs to be an Alpha. And some of these super folks take a real beating from equally impressive bad guys, like getting slammed head first against a building at 200 mph. Or they are dismembered by metal octopuses or impaled by a telephone pole or atomized, skinned alive or frozen. And yet, they just won’t die.

They have little cuts on their forehead, which implies a circulatory system, and one can actually see their mashed up internal organs. These blemishes, I assume, are supposed to connect them to our brand of mortality. However, they reattach their heads or reconstitute their body parts and off they go – they’re back in the fight doing all kinds of reality-bending moves. My rational mind can’t synchronize any if this, it’s certainly not dramatic, so I go into bored mode.

I’ll take Saving Private Ryan and reality every time.

Let’s preview Oscar night. Viewership was down 20% last year so clearly something is broken. We know that getting a safe host is becoming more problematic in the twitter-verse of fragile psyches, so maybe a rock the world acceptance speech this year could attract eyeballs for next year. You never know. What if, and this is a rather large if, we heard the following from one of the winners …

Thank you, thank you. Wow, this is so fantastic. Three years ago, I was praying to God that He would allow me to make a difference in these tumultuous times, but never would I have imagined He’d so magnificently answer my prayers. It seems Our Lady gave Him quite a nudge. And now I’m standing on the world stage accepting the Academy Award for best screenplay. There are so many people to thank who have been extraordinarily supportive, but you know who you are. I love every one of you and am blessed to count you all as my cherished friends. 

You know, the seed for this screenplay was indeed a miracle. I had been struggling with my Catholic faith because of the very public scandals, the growing religious schism between the traditionalists and liberals that jeopardizes our deposit of faith, the corrupt leadership of some of our prelates and so on. We had become easy targets and much of it was self-inflicted. I was in absolute despair. Should I leave the Church? Add to that the destruction of families, the confused state of society, the dueling political vitriol, our cultural demise, the misguided social justice warrior-ing, well, perhaps you can understand how I began to conclude that our civilization was in mortal crisis.

At that very moment of realization, I had an epiphany to write about the communion of saints. You see, the Lord led me to icons of Christian holiness that changed the world. Saints such as Aurelius Augustine, Marie-Francois Therese, Catherine Benincasa, Maximilian Kolbe, and Katherine Drexel to name just a few, as well as future saints like Emil Kapaun and Dorothy Day – they all lived an extraordinarily faith-filled life and personified the best of humanity; examples for all of us. All served for the sake of Love who is of course, God. And by God’s grace, these saints can help us, can actually intervene for us on earth. What a gift.

My spirit was lifted by their stories and I was inspired to craft a tale centering on Thomas Aquinas. Thank you for honoring that effort. His masterful writing on faith and reason enhanced our understanding of the natural order – he knew it all came from God, the Creator. His genius insight touched the heart of Truth. Getting to know this extraordinary man, honestly, is an even greater treasure than this statue.

Audible gasps and murmurs from the audience.

I don’t have much time but let me finish with this. Last month, there was a defining moment for me that signaled, perhaps, the beginning of the end of the great American experiment. The approbation of child murder by a powerful governor was met with wide smiles, hoots and hollers, congratulatory handshakes and high fives, and then made law. They – a high percentage of women by the way – took abortion to another level. Other state lawmakers were so inspired that they quickly began to draft mimicking language. I’ve never seen people so eager to jump on a bandwagon. 

All civilizations fail. Tragically, this may have been our tipping point.

The worst of mankind was on display as lawgivers figuratively got on their knees, within inches of their victims, and whispered, “Sorry kid, you’re inconvenient, enjoy the ride,” to each of the 239 children who would be sacrificed that day in New York. Each one of these lifetakers stood at the top of their Mayan-like temple and kicked a precious baby down the bloody steps into a heap below – all the while grinning like a Cheshire cat. And as the sun rose on the next day, the vicious cycle began once again. Out of sight. Out of mind. Serial killing memorialized and worshiped like a golden calf.

From the transcendent dimension that is heaven, our Lord and God, our Holy Mother, the angels, saints and blessed souls, all cried in anguish at this hideous crime against humanity. Their tears will only continue until we beg for mercy and stop this monstrous sin.

Perhaps there’s a sliver of hope. The arts can be such a powerful force for societal good. For those of us who are fortunate enough to participate in the exercise of those arts, like it or not, we can be wonderful beacons of good, both in our work and in our public lives. But there’s a flip side. The dark or twisted impulses of our will – Thomas would say influenced by the false gods of wealth, pleasure, power and honor – are getting way too much screen time. Does it really have to be that way? 

I have a suggestion for all of us. You’re more likely to see a Volkswagen tap dance than a saint emerge from Hollywood.  Why is that? We are all called to be saints. Maybe we could speak as one united voice and help to stop the butchering of babies. What a glorious start to bringing America back from a dark, barbaric precipice. 

Please believe me; I’m not throwing stones. My life is as checkered as anyone’s, but the overall product of our collective work, the manner in which we live, and our silence in the face of evil should, in my humble opinion, be a cause for introspection. Are we contrarian to the moral good of society? Is that the role we covet? Distinguished members of the Academy, we can do better.

The applause as I walked to the stage was tepid. I understand. Everyone has to be careful and not alienate the powerful within our industry, those who will certainly disagree with me. But I’m holding an Oscar so clearly some in this room, and others watching at home, were inspired by St. Aquinas. That is encouraging and gives me hope. Just maybe we’ll do the right thing. Thank you again and God bless all of you.

Epilogue: 

Hopefully, my fantasy speech above resonated with some of you. Reflecting on the lightning-speed changes in the moral fabric of our society, I’m reminded of what President Reagan said: I think I understand how Abraham Lincoln felt when he said, “I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.” If we can possibly make any sort of difference, the best place to start is on our knees, imploring our loving God for His divine mercy. I believe in intercessory prayer and I have remarkable friends who are trained experts at it. Prayer as a critical weapon in our spiritual battle is needed now more than ever.

I invite you to call upon our hidden prayer warriors, the Norbertine Nuns of Tehachapi – the “Sisters of the Mountains” as they are called – and all cloistered communities. They all have a fast track to God’s Heart. After all, each solemnly professed nun is a Bride of Christ, the Beloved Son of the Father. Here is the Norbertine Canonesses’ dedicated prayer request email: pray_req@cybersurfers.net. Additionally, you can read about them here and here if you’re interested. 

One final but important comment. Abortion has many masters and toxic femininity is just one of them. Please read Dr. Carrie Gress’ latest book, The Anti-Mary Exposed: Rescuing the Culture from Toxic Femininity. She does a masterful job of explaining how radical feminism has  destroyed lives, torn families apart, and nurtured a culture where 60 million abortions are perfectly fine. She exposes much more about this devastating cultural shift and ultimately leads us to the antidote of the Anti-Mary spirit, Mary, the Mother of God.