Saturday, June 30, 2012

Storms

Wild storms went through DC, parts of MD, Virginia, and West Virginia last night. It was pretty impressive. I was awakened by the tortured sound of our power going out, revving back up and then going out again. Hail pounded the window, lightning lit up the room and the thunder seemed to just go on and on. Rocky insisted on dropping me off at my mother's when he went to work. I really wanted to stay in bed but he was right. With the power out our place got really hot and unpleasant. Four people were killed in th storm. May God have mercy on their souls.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

in reparation

There's a new movie about Our Lord in pre-production. It will be directed by the same guy who did Robocop and Showgirls. The script hangs on the  oldest and foulest slander against Our Lady. I will not repeat it here. The Hollywood folks are obsessed and they really don't care if the movie bombs or not as long as they can spit in the Holy Face.  If they follow their usual tiresome pattern it will come out in either Christmas or Easter. Let's pray in reparation for this blasphemy..


 MAY THE MOST HOLY, MOST SACRED, MOST ADORABLE, MOST INCOMPREHENSIBLE AND UNUTTERABLE NAME OF GOD BE ALWAYS PRAISED, BLESSED, LOVED, ADORED AND GLORIFIED, IN HEAVEN, ON EARTH AND UNDER THE EARTH, BY ALL THE CREATURES OF GOD, AND BY THE SACRED HEART OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, IN THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT OF THE ALTAR. AMEN.

 


Saturday, June 23, 2012

Catholicism : don't be casual about it

I know thy works, that thou art neither cold, nor hot. I would thou wert cold, or hot. But because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold, not hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth. Revelation 3:15-16

Secular Catholics can be more troublesome than open Catholic haters. The fury outside the gate is obvious. The dozing watchman at the gate, the soldier who wears his sword but never bothers to practice using it, the collaborator who's half in love with an enemy agent -- now those guys or gals are real heartbreakers and spiritual (sometimes literal too) lifetakers.

The Courageous Priest site has a stirring post by Archbishop John C. Nienstedt that ought to be read and republished in church bulletins.


St. Clelia, patron of those who are ridiculed for their piety, pray for us.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

random thoughts


Our Lady of Confidence
  • Can we please drop the word "bullying" to describe every form of meaness?   Bullying is what happens when Tammy Sue and Mindy make fun of Nancy every single day. Bullying is when Bobby picks on little Timmy in gym class until he cries.  Bullying is what my old co-worker "Evilene" used to pull on me the horrible year she went through menopause. What happened to poor Karen Klein is far worse than everyday cruelty. This lady was subjected to vicious harrasment,  threats of bodily harm and straight up unadulterated evil. I'm putting Greece, New York on my list of places I don't ever want to go.


  • Don't give money to any order of nuns that pursue politcs, "social justice", feminism, nature worship or anything other than the love of Christ and the service of His people in either active or contemplative devotion. Look to support orders  like this this or this or these holy women.  


  • I think this priest's idea is absolutely spot on. However, the parents in the parish are going to flip out. Please say a prayer for him.


  •  I think the public school model needs  to be destroyed. We need to find another way.


  • Don't throw your worn out clothes in the trash. Call your local nursing home and ask if they'd like a donation. A lot of people in care have been dumped  and their relatives don't even pay enough attention to them to make sure they have decent clothes. They callously figure that Dad is in a wheel chair or bedridden and doesn't go anywhere but the garden so why does he need new pants? Believe me, Dad needs new pants, if he's incontinent, has difficulty feeding himself or has been in that nursing home for years.


  • Please pray for priests! Please pray for the Holy Father!

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Sacred Heart

I don't know if I really like this one but I am grateful that the artist, who is hugely talented portrayed Our Lord as a man who actually did hard work and walked everywhere up and down  hills and through lonesome valleys. There is too much well meaning art that shows Him looking like a consumptive 12 year old girl. The artist's  paintings of the crucifixion and of Mary at the foot of the cross are particularly well done and would make a good gift for your church.

 

This is the one that is at St. Rita's

This is the one on my bedroom wall. I bought it at the dollar store an I swear it looks much better when you see it in person that it does here.

But no matter what image you have at home or church love and remember with grateful affection  ...

This heart, which has so loved men




Oh Mary conceived without sin...

pray for us, who have recourse to thee.

Sigh

It was never about tolerance. The end game was always about the power to force people  to stand by and cheer whether they wanted to or not.  And so the band plays on. We all smile and smile and smile  'cause the rent is due, the kids need braces, the car needs work and we all need our jobs.


Some people think 'Well, I run my own business. This will never apply to me. Oh yeah? You too must dance to the tune and if you don't there will be a judge to force you to go along. 

That being said, I also think this all came about because normal people sinned openly and without shame or rebuke for the last 50 years.  From the '60s on there has been an explosion of straight people's perversion and cheerful fornication. There was no way we could live in a world where Hugh Hefner is a beloved, cool old grandfather figure to millions of people and his brand of pornography is so mainstream that it can be on the coffee table without anyone daring to raise an eyebrow and not have all kind of poisons nobody thought about hatching out of the mud of our sick society. Sow the wind and you reap the whirlwind. Society says "Oh come on. Everybody's doing it. You'll be fine. The kids will be fine. You can do what you want and getaway clean." No, you can't.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Poetry of St. Therese

PRAYER OF JEANNE D’ARC IN PRISON


St. Therese portraying St. Joan

My voices this foretold: I am a prisoner here,
No aid can I expect, except, my God, from Thee;
For love of Thee alone, I left my father dear;
My flower-decked fields, blue skies, my flocks, no more I see.
For Thee I left my home and her who gave me birth;
Then, lifting in my hand the standard of Thy choice,
Lord, in Thy holy Name, I led an army forth,
And far-famed generals then gave credence to my voice.
Behold my recompense — this gloomy prison-place,
The price of all my toils, my prayers, my blood, my tears!
No more my flowery fields my longing eyes shall face,
Nor shall I see the home of all my childhood years.
No more shall I behold the mountains far away,
Whose distant summits seemed to pierce the azure sky;
And I shall hear no more the church-bells sweetly play.
How soft upon the air those holy notes swept by!
Here, in this gloomy cell, the star I seek in vain,
That used, at vesper hour, to shine so clear and fair;
In vain I seek the leaves, that when upon the plain
Beside my flock I slept, gave cooling shelter there.
Here, when at last I sleep after long bitter weeping,
Of morning’s flowers I dream, and perfumes of the dawn;
But then my clanking chains disturb that happy sleeping, —
I wake — my dream is past — the verdant fields are gone.
Lord, for Thy love I go, martyrdom to embrace;
For Thee I dare to meet the lingering death of fire.
Now but one wish is mine, — to see Thee face to face,
No more to part from Thee: — behold my heart’s desire!
To die for love of Thee, — what happier lot than this?
I will take up my cross, and walk where Thou hast trod.
Ah! how I long to die, and enter into bliss!
Ah! how I long to die, and thus to see my God!



 

Sunday, June 10, 2012

My armor by St. Therese

MY ARMOR.

 

“The spouse of the King is terrible as an army set in array; She is like to a choir of music on a field of battle.” Canticles vi. 3; vii.
“Put you on the armor of God that you may be able to stand against the deceits of the devil.” Ephesians vi. II.


With heavenly armor am I clad to-day;
The hand of God has thus invested me.
What now from Him could tear my heart away;
What henceforth come between my God and me?
With Him for Guide, the fight I face serene;
Nor furious fire, nor foe, nor death, I fear.
My enemies shall know I am a queen,
The spouse of God, most high, most dear.
This armor I shall keep while life shall last;
Thou, Thou, hast given it Me, my King, my Spouse!
My fairest, brightest gems, by naught on earth surpast,
Shall be my sacred vows.
My first dear sacrifice, O Poverty,
Thou shalt go with me till my dying hour.
Detached from all things must the athlete be,
If he the race would run, and prove his power
Taste, worldly men! regret, remorse and pain,
The bitter fruits of earthly, vain desire;
The glorious palms of Poverty I gain,
I who to God alone aspire.
“Who would My heavenly Kingdom have from Me,
He must use violence,” so Jesus said.
Ah well then! Poverty my mighty lance shall be,
The helmet for my head.
The pure white Angels’ sister now am I;
My vow of Chastity has made me so.
Ah, how I hope one day with them to fly!
Meanwhile to daily combat must I go.
For my great Spouse, of every lord the Lord,
Struggle must I, with neither truce nor rest;
And Chastity shall be my heavenly sword.
To win men’s souls to Jesus’ breast.
O Chastity,my sword invincible!
To overcome my foes thou hast sufficed;
By thee am I — O joy ineffable! —
The Spouse of Jesus Christ.
The proud, proud angel, in the realms of light,
Cried out, rebellious: “I will not obey!”
But I shall cry, throughout earth’s dreary night,
“With all my heart, I will obey alway!”
With holy boldness all my soul is steeled,
Against hell’s wild attacks I bravely dart;
Obedience is my firm and mighty shield,
The buckler on my valiant heart.
O conquering God! no other prize I seek,
Than to submit with all my heart to Thee;
Of victories th’ obedient man shall speak
Through all eternity.
If now a soldier’s weapon I can wield,
If valiantly like him the foe I face,
I also long to sing upon the field,
As sang the glorious Virgin of all grace.
Thou mak’st the chords to vibrate of Thy lyre.
That lyre, O Jesus! is my loving heart;
To sing Thy mercies is that heart’s desire.
How sweet, how strong, how dear, Thou art.
With radiant smile, Thou Spouse, my heart’s Delight,
I go to meet all foes from hell’s dark land;
And singing I shall die, upon the field of fight,
My weapons in my hand.
March 25, 1897.   

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Ave Verum-- music for Corpus Christi







Corpus Christi sequence

Sequentia
O Sion, thy Redeemer praising,
Songs of joy to Him upraising,
Laud thy Pastor and thy Guide:

Swell thy notes most high and daring;
For His praise is past declaring,
And thy loftiest powers beside.

‘Tis a theme with praise that gloweth,
For the bread that life bestoweth
Goes this day before us out;

Which, His holy supper taking,
To the brethren twelve His breaking
None hath ever called in doubt.
Full, then, be our praise and sounding,
Modest and with joy abounding
Be our mind’s triumphant state;

For the festal’s prosecution,
When the first blest institution
Of this feast we celebrate.

In the new King’s new libation,
In the new law’s new oblation,
Ends the ancient Paschal rite;

Ancient forms new substance chaseth,
Typic shadows truth displaceth,
Day dispels the gloom of night.

When He did at supper seated,
Christ enjoined to be repeated,
When His love we celebrate:

Thus obeying His dictation,
Blood and wine of our salvation,
We the victim consecrate.

‘Tis for Christian faith asserted,
Bread is into flesh converted,
Into blood the holy wine:

Sight and intellect transcending,
Nature’s laws to marvel bending,
‘Tis confirmed by faith divine.

Under either kind remaining,
Form, not substance, still retaining,
Wondrous things our spirit sees:

Flesh and blood thy palate staining,
Yet still Christ entire remaining,
Under either species.

All untorn for eating given,
Undivided and unriven,
Whole He’s taken and unrent;

Be there one, or crowds surrounding,
He is equally abounding,
Nor, though eaten, ever spent.
Both to good and bad ‘tis broken,
But on each a different token
or of life, or death attends:

Life to good, to bad damnation;
Lo, of one same manducation
How dissimilar the ends.

When the priest the victim breaketh,
See thy faith in no wise shaketh,
Know that every fragment taketh
All that ‘neath the whole there lies:

This in Him no fracture maketh,
‘Tis the figure only breaketh,
Form, or state, no change there taketh
Place in what it signifies.

Bread, that angels eat in heaven,
Now becomes the pilgrim’s leaven,
Bread in truth to children given,
That must ne’er to dogs be thrown.

He, in ancient types disguised,
Was the Isaac sacrificed,
For the feast a lamb devised,
Manna to the Fathers shown.

Bread, whose shepherd-care doth tend us,
Jesu Christ, Thy mercy send us,
Do Thou feed us, Thou defend us,
Lead us where true joys attend us,
In the land where life is given:

Thou all ken and might possessing,
Mercies aye to us largessing,
Make us share Thy cup of blessing,
Heritage and love’s caressing
With the denizens of heaven.
Amen. Alleluia.

Monday, June 04, 2012

Sometimes you need to hold your fire

I wish conservative and traditionalist Catholics would choose their battles better. Those sound like coward words and that's not how I mean it. Let me try to explain. Recently I saw photos of a new priest's first ordination. One of them showed him giving Communion to his little niece. The child was not dressed in the traditional First Communion outfit and someone wrote in to comment. The little one's pretty outfit wasn't completely traditional but it wasn't scandalous either. If I had a child that age I'd have no problem with her wearing that dress.  My own First Communion dress was actually midnight blue with white Swiss dots.  I wore a wreath of flowers instead of a veil like the other girls. I didn't look like the others but I was perfectly modest...honest. The commenter angered other commenters who remarked that Traditionalists were mean. The people who reacted that way were silly, but people are silly. They make snap judgements based on little things.

Another time on another site I saw remarks of a presumably traditionalist woman who ranted about the cheap fabric and sequins on the dresses of the little First Communicants at her parish. I thought she came off as a snob whom I would not care to know---not everybody can afford silk. Are working class or underclass girls not allowed to have the sacrament?  Both these ladies made a very bad impression. If a teen aged girl or woman comes to Mass dressed like a streetwalker I'll be the first to frown but picking on a tiny little girl recieving her First Communion from  her uncle, a brand new priest was just stupid. As I've said before the pope can be a shinning example, the local parish priest can be a beacon of holiness and it all gets shunted aside because the people in the pew are stupid jerks.


There are things that we must fight about.  If we see sacrilege, if we see a deacon acting like he's the pastor, if we see a priest forget that he is supposed to be an alter Christus that's one thing but don't pull out the ma deuce to kill a flea. It makes you look like a damn fool and it sabotages all the efforts to reclaim reverence, beauty and actual Catholic teaching for our parishes.

Sunday, June 03, 2012

A visit to Assumption

My mother and I visited my uncle at the nursing home yesterday instead of our usual Sunday. He was in pretty good spirits but he's been giving the night staff fits all week. Dementia patients are very sensitive to change and are disturbed by things so subtle that most of us don't even notice. It may seem odd but when dealing with someone whose mind is breaking down the caregiver has to get smarter.

We kept him company while he ate lunch, then got him a shampoo and shave and we went for a walk. Once Rocky arrived to pick us up we all went to Assumption, a nearby Catholic church. The dear woman who is across the hall from my uncle is a parishioner and when we brought her back a bulletin she was thrilled.

Assumption is a tiny parish in a rotten neighborhood.  I wouldn't want to be on foot but driving through in the day time is okay provided you mind your own business and keep your wits sharp. It's not a neighborhood to wander around daydreaming in. Assumption itself is one of the prettiest little churches I've ever seen. It's made of brick and has exquisite stained glass windows. They have an antique statue of Our Lady and a very nice icon of Our Lord. The Blessed Sacrament is right in the middle of the sanctuary. The priest's chair is off to the side and in a little alcove.  My uncle did great. Right before Communion he needed to go to the restroom which is downstairs. The stairs are long and narrow and my mother couldn't handle that with her cane  and just as she was figuring out what to do a parishioner kindly took him there and brought him back to her. God bless that man.

Father preached the longest homily I've ever heard in a Catholic church but it was good. He summed up our whole  Faith. How long was it? Well Mass started at 4:30 and didn't end until 6:30. Father can preach!

Next time we'll try to visit St. Thomas Moore or Our Lady of Perpetual Help which are the next closest churches to the nursing home.

Friday, June 01, 2012