Just thought I'd post an update.
It's below 0, it's going to continue this way, and as such, all the roads REMAIN ice rinks. Salt and sand don't do anything to penetrate that stuff.
The drive in to work this morning was treacherous at best. Even just driving at a creep, when I would barely touch the gas to move ahead a little, my car would go sideways as the tires spun.
What was really fun was the crazy guy behind me laying on his horn as I was driving slowly around a very icy curve on the freeway while watching a large truck nearly crash into a group of slowing cars. He was gesturing so wildly at me to move forward (I could observe this in my rearview mirror) apparently at his preferred speed, that I seriously thought he might crash through his own windshield in order to strangle me. So I actually joyfully waved at him. (With ALL fingers...no one-fingered greetings from me!). Then he gestured wildly for me to move over to the next lane. How I was supposed to do so, I didn't know; there were cars there. So I opted to remain as I was, driving carefully around an icy curve, in control of my vehicle.
Having worked 5 years in insurance has made me understand the bad things that happen on such roads. I do NOT want to be one of those fatalities.
If I'm going to die a violent death, I'd prefer that it be martyrdome, not road rage or get-home-itis.
So it was that I was thoroughly happy to arrive at work this morning. Oh, and please join me in praying Hail Mary's for the crazy angry guy who was behind me in traffic this morning. You should have SEEN the way that guy took off once he got past me. I'm surprised I didn't come across him in the ditch.
Oh, and I discovered that shortly after I passed through that area, a Wal-Mart truck and another vehicle were involved in a very serious crash. I'm not a bit surprised and would like to thank my Guardian Angel for making sure I was not a part of that.
Be careful out there, everyone...this ice isn't going away any time soon!
Monday, December 15, 2008
COLD!
HOLY BUCKETS, IT'S COLD OUT!
I took my dog for the world's record shortest walk EVER. She was literally too cold to pee!
That poor thing just lifted up her paws, and then sat down in a "bare" spot (where the wind had blown the snow away).
The last time I was in Arizona was maybe April 2003, and I would like to go back there. It was WARM and nice! And pretty!
And I do not relish driving to work today....nasty nasty roads that salt and sand don't affect in these temps!
I took my dog for the world's record shortest walk EVER. She was literally too cold to pee!
That poor thing just lifted up her paws, and then sat down in a "bare" spot (where the wind had blown the snow away).
The last time I was in Arizona was maybe April 2003, and I would like to go back there. It was WARM and nice! And pretty!
And I do not relish driving to work today....nasty nasty roads that salt and sand don't affect in these temps!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Crankiness
I came across another post by Fr. Hulk today, and I gotta say...he would be a GREAT spiritual director for a slacker like me. Is he available?
Sure, by his title and header, he seems to have a "problem" with anger. Big deal...so he's cranky? Who ISN'T?
I'm not sure how to create an image of cranky Adoro. It's been seen here, it's certainly been seen by my mother, and I have let the crankiness show more often than I care to realize.
Unfortunately, it's part of our human nature. And often, it serves God because He can use our fallenness for the benefit of others. (That is NOT to be taken as permission to be a jerk! There is NO SUCH THING as "Jerks for the Glory of God!" )
I gotta tell you...some of the most influential people in my life have been the most difficult. Why? Because they held me to a high standard!
In Elementary School, I was a "C" student. I got by, teachers always told my Mom I was "diligent" or nice, or well-behaved, but I certainly wasn't a "star student". I never saw myself as "bright" or anything. I was average and content with that. I didn't like struggling with math, but it was what it was, and so I went, every day.
And then I met Ms. Beatty. She was my 6th Grade teacher, and that woman was TOUGH! Her job was to prepare us for Jr. High, and she took that mission seriously. My bad handwriting was unacceptable to her...she made me re-do countless assignments. She made me learn that I wasn't a C student, but an A student who had never been pushed to do better than the status quo. She saw my talents and interests, and recommended me for a "Great Books" group in my school. I remember my Mom signing the slip that allowed me to get out of regular class and into this advanced class. I remember attending with my most intelligent classmates, and reading higher-level things, which we discussed together. And I am STILL affected by that group today.
I was completely confused by my involvement with these kids, and in the beginning, I thought I was misplaced. They were smart! They were perceptive! They were the top students in our class!
It was that teacher that made me realize that with a little discipline, with a little encouragement, I was one of them, too.
Because of her, Jr. High was a breeze, and in 7th Grade, I obtained the title of "Brain". (I wasn't proud of that, actually).
So it was, though. I was who I was. THE Brightest? No. But reasonably bright. I didn't have to work that hard for good grades; I only had to be disciplined enough to meet that standard.
High School was a different world, a better one. And my Homeroom and Spanish Teacher was a terrorist. But because of his discipline, I was challenged, almost through defiance.
Our first year with him, he gave us a Spanish test to see where we were at. I got an "A". When he handed the corrected test back to me, he said, "Kiss it goodbye".
I set out to prove him wrong. That was his intention; that's what he wanted in his students. And that's what he got. He was a great teacher, the best I've ever had, but he was a terror, he was an anomoly and even now, he is legend.
Thank God for all of them.
They are EXACTLY what I need in a Spiritual Director. In class today, that topic came up; for a time in our recent history, "spiritual direction" became "all the rage", and people radically unqualified stepped up and patted very misguided people on the back and told them they were doing exactly what they should....even though they weren't.
I know I need someone who will crack the whip, who will make me see myself as I really am, who won't let me wallow in self-pity, or revel in spiritual pride. Someone like Ms. Beatty, who will take a look at me and say, "Yeah, you have potential, but you're not even TRYING to live up to it."
"Fr. Hulk" seems that sort.
As much as it terrifies me to have a "Fr. Hulk" as a spiritual director, I gotta say...previous experience has taught me that extreme pain and solid discipline has always lead to success. And given that my desire is Heaven...well...is there a "Fr. Hulk" out there to whip my sorry soul into shape? Is there someone out there who will accurately see what I'm lacking and force me under obedience to do what seems painful...but is in actuality, the very definition of freedom?
(Note: To "Fr. Hulk"...sorry to put your image on the spot, but thanks for the inspiration!):-)
Update 12-20-08 - Fr. Hulk is now Fr. Cranky, am leaving his original title here for the time being.
Sure, by his title and header, he seems to have a "problem" with anger. Big deal...so he's cranky? Who ISN'T?
I'm not sure how to create an image of cranky Adoro. It's been seen here, it's certainly been seen by my mother, and I have let the crankiness show more often than I care to realize.
Unfortunately, it's part of our human nature. And often, it serves God because He can use our fallenness for the benefit of others. (That is NOT to be taken as permission to be a jerk! There is NO SUCH THING as "Jerks for the Glory of God!" )
I gotta tell you...some of the most influential people in my life have been the most difficult. Why? Because they held me to a high standard!
In Elementary School, I was a "C" student. I got by, teachers always told my Mom I was "diligent" or nice, or well-behaved, but I certainly wasn't a "star student". I never saw myself as "bright" or anything. I was average and content with that. I didn't like struggling with math, but it was what it was, and so I went, every day.
And then I met Ms. Beatty. She was my 6th Grade teacher, and that woman was TOUGH! Her job was to prepare us for Jr. High, and she took that mission seriously. My bad handwriting was unacceptable to her...she made me re-do countless assignments. She made me learn that I wasn't a C student, but an A student who had never been pushed to do better than the status quo. She saw my talents and interests, and recommended me for a "Great Books" group in my school. I remember my Mom signing the slip that allowed me to get out of regular class and into this advanced class. I remember attending with my most intelligent classmates, and reading higher-level things, which we discussed together. And I am STILL affected by that group today.
I was completely confused by my involvement with these kids, and in the beginning, I thought I was misplaced. They were smart! They were perceptive! They were the top students in our class!
It was that teacher that made me realize that with a little discipline, with a little encouragement, I was one of them, too.
Because of her, Jr. High was a breeze, and in 7th Grade, I obtained the title of "Brain". (I wasn't proud of that, actually).
So it was, though. I was who I was. THE Brightest? No. But reasonably bright. I didn't have to work that hard for good grades; I only had to be disciplined enough to meet that standard.
High School was a different world, a better one. And my Homeroom and Spanish Teacher was a terrorist. But because of his discipline, I was challenged, almost through defiance.
Our first year with him, he gave us a Spanish test to see where we were at. I got an "A". When he handed the corrected test back to me, he said, "Kiss it goodbye".
I set out to prove him wrong. That was his intention; that's what he wanted in his students. And that's what he got. He was a great teacher, the best I've ever had, but he was a terror, he was an anomoly and even now, he is legend.
Thank God for all of them.
They are EXACTLY what I need in a Spiritual Director. In class today, that topic came up; for a time in our recent history, "spiritual direction" became "all the rage", and people radically unqualified stepped up and patted very misguided people on the back and told them they were doing exactly what they should....even though they weren't.
I know I need someone who will crack the whip, who will make me see myself as I really am, who won't let me wallow in self-pity, or revel in spiritual pride. Someone like Ms. Beatty, who will take a look at me and say, "Yeah, you have potential, but you're not even TRYING to live up to it."
"Fr. Hulk" seems that sort.
As much as it terrifies me to have a "Fr. Hulk" as a spiritual director, I gotta say...previous experience has taught me that extreme pain and solid discipline has always lead to success. And given that my desire is Heaven...well...is there a "Fr. Hulk" out there to whip my sorry soul into shape? Is there someone out there who will accurately see what I'm lacking and force me under obedience to do what seems painful...but is in actuality, the very definition of freedom?
(Note: To "Fr. Hulk"...sorry to put your image on the spot, but thanks for the inspiration!):-)
Update 12-20-08 - Fr. Hulk is now Fr. Cranky, am leaving his original title here for the time being.
Does it Rain in Arizona?
Parish the Thought: Actual rain tomorrow?
The good Father apparently doesn't believe that it rains in Arizona.
I have this to say:
A woman named Adoro was sent from Blogger.
She came for testimony, to testify to the rain,
so that all might believe through her that there is rain in Arizona.
She was not the rain, but came to testify to the rain.
And this is the testimony of Adoro.
When the Priest from Carefree Arizona commented on his blog and asked, “Does it rain in the desert of Arizona?”
Adoro did not deny it, but admitted, “It does rain in Arizona.”
So he asked her, “What are you then? Are you a psychic from Sedona?”
And she said, (quite indignantly) “I am not.”
“Are you a crazed prophet?”
She answered, “No.”
So the Priest said to her, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who hope for rain? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Adoro said: “I am the voice of one lost Minnesotan climber, accompanied by a man from Georgia, crying out in the desert, ‘make obvious the trail from the summit!,’”
Some naysayers were also sent. They asked her, “Why then do you say there is rain
if you are not a shaman, a crazed Sedona psychic, or a weatherman?”
Adoro answered them, “I saw the rain come; but there are other kinds, in other seasons, that you do not recognize, the kind that is coming after me, in which I am not worthy to stand, even with an umbrella.”
This happened at the peak of Camelback in Scottsdale, where Adoro and her friend/co-worker Matthew were climbing and trying to get photos of a sunset that never came; for the evening went from dry and cloudy to a severe storm with lightning as a flash of blood.
*
Lest the good Father think I'm kidding: I'd been in Arizona for two weeks in September that year, for training, but didn't get a chance to climb Camelback. I was sent back again in October that year for another two weeks (first half of the month), and decided with some friends on a Thursday afternoon to climb Camelback Mountain. Matt had a camera, Adoro did not...she'd run out of film.
It was cloudy, but we hoped for the best, and climbed that bad camel to the best of our ability. We reached the top just when the gust front hit, and Matt quickly took his photos (which ultimately didn't turn out anyway.) Then there came a clap of thunder in a sudden darkness of the cloud that overcame the summit, and the few people stupid enough not to watch the weather dove off the peak to every side. Matt and I headed down...I lead and missed the trail. We spotted it thanks to other climbers (by watching them), followed it, and then were drenched in the dowpour that came a few thunderclaps and lightning-strikes later.
I will NEVER forget climbing down that desert mountain in a river of red dirt, sliding down the slippery rocks, and remaining suspended between two of them, a hand on either side, cringing, as lightning struck the peak only feet above us. I was blinded by the fire from the clouds, still trying to move further down.
While behind us, a couple with proper climbing shoes (obviously native Arizonans who knew the poorly-marked trail) impatiently were held up, and bypassed us as we went off into an unmapped ravine. Not even so much as a "Hey, idiots, you're off the trail!"
The rain stopped, we found our way, and when we got back to the hotel where our company had placed our group, we went to the bar for as much water (really!) as we could drink. Our clothing was dry, our backsides matched the mountain, and we bore the scrapes that can only come from close encounters with various cacti.
The bartender asked us where we'd been. By then, the News was on, and with shaking hands we silently pointed to the screen, as it showed images of red-colored lightning striking the peak and just below the peak of Camelback Mountain.
At the time, even for a desert, Arizona had been experiencing a drought; and because of our apparently physical offering of ourselves, the good people of Arizona (excepting the rude climbers who would have let us die - several people per year actually die on Camelback), got to experience water from Heaven.
Dear Father Pelletier, believe you me, it rains in Arizona. I just pray, for your sake, that you aren't at the top of one of your local mountains when it does!
And so I, Adoro, testify to the rain that you might believe and be converted. (And lobby for a properly-marked path for the benefit of Arizona-loving "tourists" who are not looking for God in the storm but prefer the still small voice.)
*
The good Father apparently doesn't believe that it rains in Arizona.
I have this to say:
A woman named Adoro was sent from Blogger.
She came for testimony, to testify to the rain,
so that all might believe through her that there is rain in Arizona.
She was not the rain, but came to testify to the rain.
And this is the testimony of Adoro.
When the Priest from Carefree Arizona commented on his blog and asked, “Does it rain in the desert of Arizona?”
Adoro did not deny it, but admitted, “It does rain in Arizona.”
So he asked her, “What are you then? Are you a psychic from Sedona?”
And she said, (quite indignantly) “I am not.”
“Are you a crazed prophet?”
She answered, “No.”
So the Priest said to her, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who hope for rain? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Adoro said: “I am the voice of one lost Minnesotan climber, accompanied by a man from Georgia, crying out in the desert, ‘make obvious the trail from the summit!,’”
Some naysayers were also sent. They asked her, “Why then do you say there is rain
if you are not a shaman, a crazed Sedona psychic, or a weatherman?”
Adoro answered them, “I saw the rain come; but there are other kinds, in other seasons, that you do not recognize, the kind that is coming after me, in which I am not worthy to stand, even with an umbrella.”
This happened at the peak of Camelback in Scottsdale, where Adoro and her friend/co-worker Matthew were climbing and trying to get photos of a sunset that never came; for the evening went from dry and cloudy to a severe storm with lightning as a flash of blood.
*
Lest the good Father think I'm kidding: I'd been in Arizona for two weeks in September that year, for training, but didn't get a chance to climb Camelback. I was sent back again in October that year for another two weeks (first half of the month), and decided with some friends on a Thursday afternoon to climb Camelback Mountain. Matt had a camera, Adoro did not...she'd run out of film.
It was cloudy, but we hoped for the best, and climbed that bad camel to the best of our ability. We reached the top just when the gust front hit, and Matt quickly took his photos (which ultimately didn't turn out anyway.) Then there came a clap of thunder in a sudden darkness of the cloud that overcame the summit, and the few people stupid enough not to watch the weather dove off the peak to every side. Matt and I headed down...I lead and missed the trail. We spotted it thanks to other climbers (by watching them), followed it, and then were drenched in the dowpour that came a few thunderclaps and lightning-strikes later.
I will NEVER forget climbing down that desert mountain in a river of red dirt, sliding down the slippery rocks, and remaining suspended between two of them, a hand on either side, cringing, as lightning struck the peak only feet above us. I was blinded by the fire from the clouds, still trying to move further down.
While behind us, a couple with proper climbing shoes (obviously native Arizonans who knew the poorly-marked trail) impatiently were held up, and bypassed us as we went off into an unmapped ravine. Not even so much as a "Hey, idiots, you're off the trail!"
The rain stopped, we found our way, and when we got back to the hotel where our company had placed our group, we went to the bar for as much water (really!) as we could drink. Our clothing was dry, our backsides matched the mountain, and we bore the scrapes that can only come from close encounters with various cacti.
The bartender asked us where we'd been. By then, the News was on, and with shaking hands we silently pointed to the screen, as it showed images of red-colored lightning striking the peak and just below the peak of Camelback Mountain.
At the time, even for a desert, Arizona had been experiencing a drought; and because of our apparently physical offering of ourselves, the good people of Arizona (excepting the rude climbers who would have let us die - several people per year actually die on Camelback), got to experience water from Heaven.
Dear Father Pelletier, believe you me, it rains in Arizona. I just pray, for your sake, that you aren't at the top of one of your local mountains when it does!
And so I, Adoro, testify to the rain that you might believe and be converted. (And lobby for a properly-marked path for the benefit of Arizona-loving "tourists" who are not looking for God in the storm but prefer the still small voice.)
*
GAUDETE!
So, it's Gaudete Sunday, and actually, I had a pretty good one; spent the day in class, all finals complete (today's was a take-home final which was submitted on Thursday), so all we had to do was bask in a lecture on mysticism. St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Terese of Lisieux, and Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange on his little book, the Three Ways of the Spiritual Life. (Which I intend to read this Advent...it wasn't part of our required reading for class.)
I might have some post-fodder from today's notes.
Unfortunately, we were quite worried about the weather as it was raining all day, but in the last hour of class the temperature dropped 30 degrees, resulting in a skating rink in place of the parking lot, and some of our classmates have to drive home through the blizzard just to our north.
And can I just say...PRAISE GOD for the man who invented ABS brakes (anti-lock) and whoever invented traction control! I am SO glad their mothers didn't abort them! They saved my life today! (And countless others, I imagine...today alone!)
Imagine...the impact a single life can have...
Anyway...
Driving home was quite scary as you can imagine. And by the time I arrived, it was snowing here, and blowing, and freezing, and the skating rink was present in my driveway as well. Tomorrow morning when I walk the dog, I'll take the old leather heirloom skates down from the wall in the garage and do pirouettes down the street. My dog will enjoy that, too. I just hope she doesn't run under the skates when I practice my double-axle. (sp?)
Oh, and the official story to my Mom when I speak to her this evening? "Oh, Mom, the roads were FINE!"
It's great to be alive!
I might have some post-fodder from today's notes.
Unfortunately, we were quite worried about the weather as it was raining all day, but in the last hour of class the temperature dropped 30 degrees, resulting in a skating rink in place of the parking lot, and some of our classmates have to drive home through the blizzard just to our north.
And can I just say...PRAISE GOD for the man who invented ABS brakes (anti-lock) and whoever invented traction control! I am SO glad their mothers didn't abort them! They saved my life today! (And countless others, I imagine...today alone!)
Imagine...the impact a single life can have...
Anyway...
Driving home was quite scary as you can imagine. And by the time I arrived, it was snowing here, and blowing, and freezing, and the skating rink was present in my driveway as well. Tomorrow morning when I walk the dog, I'll take the old leather heirloom skates down from the wall in the garage and do pirouettes down the street. My dog will enjoy that, too. I just hope she doesn't run under the skates when I practice my double-axle. (sp?)
Oh, and the official story to my Mom when I speak to her this evening? "Oh, Mom, the roads were FINE!"
It's great to be alive!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Rosary Meme
Swissmiss tagged me for the Rosary Meme, wherein one is apparently supposed to show three pictures of one's favorite rosaries.
Mine aren't anything special, really. I see a lot of people with really fancy-schmantzy rosaries, and I've seem some truly beautiful works of art people pray over $50.00 to pray upon, and sure, I'd like to have one of those, too.
But of course, I'd be so afraid of destroying it that I'd never use it!
Rosaries are meant to be PRAYED, and so mine reflect that very utility and purpose.
The one I use most often is a red one with a John Paul II crucifix (Isn't that actually a Pope Paul IV crucifix?), with a JPII medal, and the other side has an image of the Immaculate Conception. I've been meaning to affix a St. Benedict medal to it.
This rosary is special for a couple reasons: first, because one day I was praying to John Paul the Great, and asked for a sign of his intercession. The very next day, this rosary fell into my hands, along with a JPII crucifix I now wear on a chain, and a JPII crucifix pin (which I gave away). Secondly, this rosary was blessed by a friend of mine in July, and as he is a friend, it reminds me to pray for him and all priests whenever I pick it up.
The second rosary is the rosary given to me on the occasion of my First Communion. I still remember clutching it whenever I went to Mass (even though I never prayed it), but it always gave me comfort and made me feel "holy".
I didn't scan my other rosary, which is on my dresser. It's much like the red one with a fancier crucifix than either of the two here. I got it from some mission solicitation in the mail, but liked it so much that for awhile, it was the one I carried around. Oh, and it's blue.
I also have one from the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, with small black iridescent beads, a wire-thin crucifix, and the medal in the center is, of course, Our Lady of Guadalupe.
I'm not sure who to tag, so, if you're a regular commenter or reader with a blog to support photos....be tagged if you so desire! (Just let me know!)
Semester Update
So far, so good...I think.
Last night we took our test for Old Testament II, and happily got our analytical papers back from our November class. Let me tell you, when I turned that thing in, I was CERTAIN it wasn't worth the paper on which it was typed, even given the mercy of this professor.
And I am quite certain that I'll never be a Biblical scholar. Too tedious! Important work, certainly, but not all of us are called to it!
Well....it was the best grade I've gotten all semester!
We got our test grades back as well, and....I got an A! WOO HOO! I'll take it!
But Christian Anthropology is still in question. None of us had received our papers from last month, so when we went into the test this afternoon, we really didn't know where we were sitting.
I spent some time on our long break, studying, praying, and what came to me was this: Ultimately the grade means nothing. How has this course drawn me closer to Christ? Helped me to know Him? Helped me to know who we are in light of who He is?
There's the answer. I knew that I might bomb the test, and I knew that if my grade is a C or below for the class, I'll have to repeat it. My midterm was a B+, and when I got home, found my paper in the mail. B+. Even if I got a C on the test, my grade for the class will be higher. Whew!
Spiritual Theology is done and over, as far as the test goes. I don't know how I did, and won't know for a couple weeks, but I know it won't be a problem.
So....guess I'll be keeping my scholarship, I got word that the loan for second semester is approved, and I'll be turning in my registration this week.
Next on tap: Ecclesiology, Canon Law, and New Testament II!
(Maybe Canon Law will be up my alley....with a degree in Criminal Justice, well...I'm already legally-minded, and from what I've read in Canon Law, it makes a LOT more sense than the MN State Statutes! Are you aware that even though abortion is legal here, one can be prosecuted for Murder and Manslaughter of an Unborn Child? Not that I'm complaining, but let's face it; either that is a human being or it's not. The disposition of the mother doesn't change the truth of the being that she has conceived in her womb.)
Hmm....I should post my book list to see if any kind readers have anything we need.
Yes?
*
Last night we took our test for Old Testament II, and happily got our analytical papers back from our November class. Let me tell you, when I turned that thing in, I was CERTAIN it wasn't worth the paper on which it was typed, even given the mercy of this professor.
And I am quite certain that I'll never be a Biblical scholar. Too tedious! Important work, certainly, but not all of us are called to it!
Well....it was the best grade I've gotten all semester!
We got our test grades back as well, and....I got an A! WOO HOO! I'll take it!
But Christian Anthropology is still in question. None of us had received our papers from last month, so when we went into the test this afternoon, we really didn't know where we were sitting.
I spent some time on our long break, studying, praying, and what came to me was this: Ultimately the grade means nothing. How has this course drawn me closer to Christ? Helped me to know Him? Helped me to know who we are in light of who He is?
There's the answer. I knew that I might bomb the test, and I knew that if my grade is a C or below for the class, I'll have to repeat it. My midterm was a B+, and when I got home, found my paper in the mail. B+. Even if I got a C on the test, my grade for the class will be higher. Whew!
Spiritual Theology is done and over, as far as the test goes. I don't know how I did, and won't know for a couple weeks, but I know it won't be a problem.
So....guess I'll be keeping my scholarship, I got word that the loan for second semester is approved, and I'll be turning in my registration this week.
Next on tap: Ecclesiology, Canon Law, and New Testament II!
(Maybe Canon Law will be up my alley....with a degree in Criminal Justice, well...I'm already legally-minded, and from what I've read in Canon Law, it makes a LOT more sense than the MN State Statutes! Are you aware that even though abortion is legal here, one can be prosecuted for Murder and Manslaughter of an Unborn Child? Not that I'm complaining, but let's face it; either that is a human being or it's not. The disposition of the mother doesn't change the truth of the being that she has conceived in her womb.)
Hmm....I should post my book list to see if any kind readers have anything we need.
Yes?
*
Friday, December 12, 2008
Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
I've been twice to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City; once in 1994 on the third day of our semester and the day we departed to Puebla, where we would be living for the next few months. So it was that, although I was really not practicing our faith, I prayed to Our Lady and know without a doubt that she kept her mantle over me throughout that semester and beyond.
Two years later I returned to Mexico to visit friends who had attended my college, and we made it a point to, once again, visit the Basilica.
It's an amazing place, always filled with crowds or even just individuals making a pilgrimage. There were people who could not walk who were crawling in any way they could in order to enter the Basilica. There were people who COULD walk, but chose to enter the Basilica on their knees.
For myself, when I first entered, I immediately sensed that I was in a holy place, and felt that Our Lady's eyes were on me. She knew I was there, and that sense has never left me. Even as I went through my years of rebellion, she did not take her eyes off of me, desiring that I come back to her Son.
And indeed, she brought me home and continues to remind me that she is, indeed, my Mother, too.
Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe....ruega por nosotros!
* The above drawing is one I felt compelled to draw, in pencil and ink, a day or so after I arrived in Puebla. I felt so close to Our Lady that I needed to create my own image of her. A few days later I found a protestant who, ironically, tried to teach me the Hail Mary in Spanish. Some of it is wrong, although if prayed, it would be easily understood to be the Hail Mary. (Differences in sentence structure, not meaning).
Um....I still can't pray the Hail Mary correctly in Spanish. * blush *
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Finally Finals
This weekend while the rest of the Catholic world celebrates Gaudete Sunday, so will my classmates and I...although perhaps with more a sense of relief than Gaudete Joy.
It's been a difficult semester for most of us, and we lost two classmates who found they had to make choices between their lives/families and school. The former won out, although we truly miss their presence in class.
This weekend is finals, and we've all been desperately studying and trying to wrap our minds around things that shouldn't be difficult,yet somehow...they are.
Tonight I gave up on my Spirituality exam and emailed it in, realizing that I simply am not going to do any more on it. It should be acceptable, if not perfect. Adoro is all out of perfection this semester.
Tonight I'm focusing on Old Testament, trying to remember what prophet did what and where and to whom. As a side note...are you aware that Hosea was the ONLY prophet to address the Northern Kingdom?
Well....THAT worked well.
Anyway, there's pages and pages of prophets and kings and rulers...oh my!
Saturday brings a final exam as well, and I'm even MORE terrifed for that one. It's mostly on the Summa, which I read but can't actually fathom, (even as I parody it in my humble blog). And four essay questions I can't even seem to "memorize" or "structure" for what MIGHT be asked on the test.
But it will be nice to be done with this semester, get some plastic up on my windows, start decorating for Christmas, clean the carpets, find the rest of my winter clothing, start and finish Christmas shopping....
WHY am I so exhausted?
UH-OH UPATE: Correction on prophets to the Northern Kingdom: There were only 2 prophets from the North. Hosea was the only one of those two to prophesy to the North. Jonah was the other, and of course, you remember what happened to Jonah when he tried to avoid going to Nineveh....
It's been a difficult semester for most of us, and we lost two classmates who found they had to make choices between their lives/families and school. The former won out, although we truly miss their presence in class.
This weekend is finals, and we've all been desperately studying and trying to wrap our minds around things that shouldn't be difficult,yet somehow...they are.
Tonight I gave up on my Spirituality exam and emailed it in, realizing that I simply am not going to do any more on it. It should be acceptable, if not perfect. Adoro is all out of perfection this semester.
Tonight I'm focusing on Old Testament, trying to remember what prophet did what and where and to whom. As a side note...are you aware that Hosea was the ONLY prophet to address the Northern Kingdom?
Well....THAT worked well.
Anyway, there's pages and pages of prophets and kings and rulers...oh my!
Saturday brings a final exam as well, and I'm even MORE terrifed for that one. It's mostly on the Summa, which I read but can't actually fathom, (even as I parody it in my humble blog). And four essay questions I can't even seem to "memorize" or "structure" for what MIGHT be asked on the test.
But it will be nice to be done with this semester, get some plastic up on my windows, start decorating for Christmas, clean the carpets, find the rest of my winter clothing, start and finish Christmas shopping....
WHY am I so exhausted?
UH-OH UPATE: Correction on prophets to the Northern Kingdom: There were only 2 prophets from the North. Hosea was the only one of those two to prophesy to the North. Jonah was the other, and of course, you remember what happened to Jonah when he tried to avoid going to Nineveh....
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Amazing Confession
Something incredible happened last night, and in looking over my day...it's something that had been building although I didn't recognize it until I experienced the fulfillment of what Our Lord wanted to offer me.
God's grace is powerful, people.
I was at an Advent penance service (all individual confessions, no readings, et. al.), and as I was working, I spent a lot of the day praying for the penitents, that everything go well, and admittedly, for myself. And of coruse, that also meant that I was spending a lot of time setting things up as I had to coordinate much of the event, which was taking place for the religious education students.
It's been a very "dark" Advent for me, as I've been really struggling with something in particular, to the point of it being an all-out battle. Yes, we all have our "favorite" sins, I've just decided it's time to eliminate (or at least control) one of them.
Well, as I went through my day, I was often in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, and so there was an ongoing conversation with Jesus, especially with regard to Confession. I just went on Friday, and I didn't feel like I "needed" to go last night, but I WANTED to. As a rule, I don't go to Confession at work; I'm there for work and there should be a certain separation. As I have abundant access to the Sacraments, this really isn't a problem nor is it avoidance. It's just practical.
But last night, I had a sense that I was supposed to go to Confession, and that impression got stronger throughout the night. It would be face to face with a priest that I'd met through work, but whom I really didn't know. One of them, anyway. (There were several present tonight).
I've written of this before, but I very much prefer going to Confession anonymously, as it helps me to focus on what I need to say and who is REALLY hearing my sins, as opposed to the person standing in for Christ in that moment. So as you can imagine, I didn't relish the idea of going face to face, but I learned a long time ago that when I get that sense of needing to do something, and even a sense of peace about it, well, I have to obey.
As we neared the close of the evening, I looked around to see who was available of if any of the students seemed to be still waiting to join a line. All of the lines were coming to an end, but there was one priest in particular I was drawn towards. I didn't know him, knew nothing about him. Didn't even know his name. But I approached him tonight and instead of just saying, as I had for an earlier session,"We're done, Father, thank you for coming tonight", I sat down in the chair opposite him and said, "I need Confession, too."
As it turned out...he was EXACTLY the right priest, and as he responded to me, I was able to look him in the eye and know what humility was all about. One of my fears with going face to face is that I will sugar coat my sins, or maybe omit something out of embarassment, or shame, or what-have-you. Tonight I looked him in the eye, knowing that I was speaking to Christ through the person He sent me to, and knowing that right behind me was Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. And I could respond candidly, I could confess candidly...and it wasn't so bad.
What's so ironic is that this took place at my work...while I wore my nametag, where I might see this priest again, where he knows my boss, the pastor. All "conflicts" built up in my mind that I didn't want to deal with.
Here's the great thing; as it turned out, he knew the kind of struggle I was having from personal experience so made some recommendations based on that. We even spoke a little further after he had absolved me, as there was no one else in line. I can't even BEGIN to tell you what a great experience it was to swallow my pride in order to better confront some old rag of a sin.
And there's another cool thing; when he absolved me, he actually laid his hand on my head, and this time, when he said the words, it's as if that particular connection finally got through to me; I am forgiven!
It's OVER.
That sin...those sins....are GONE.
Gone.
I know that it's in the rite for the priest to actually lay his hand on the penitent's head during absolution, but I've never experienced that before, even in previous face to face confessions.
And you know....I feel free tonight. Jesus heard my prayers and brought me in a very profound way to His mercy. And even though I wasn't kneeling, and even though I wasn't "prepared", it was as it was supposed to be. Jesus drew me to exactly the right priest for this particular confession of this particular sin in my life.
*
All day long, I'd been praying and what continued to come to me in prayer was "Trust Me". I have a very difficult time in trusting anyone...meaning REAL trust, and I think that's also why I prefer anonymous confessions. And all day long...I was in the presence of Christ. And all day, He was calling me to trust Him with my soul...where else could I go?
We can't always pick and choose the right "time" for something. I would have preferred to have had this happen at my own comfortable parish, either with a priest known or unknown to me, but at least "home". Yet I see God's wisdom at work and how He prepared me throughout the day to do what He was asking me to do. The Holy Spirit is a perfect gentleman; He does not force us to do anything, but asks us, gently, and if we are willing to cooperate, He guides us in the way we should go. He speaks through the people in our life, and profoundly through the Sacrament of Confession.
I know I've been saying this a lot, and I'm going to keep saying it; if you've been away from the Sacrament of Confession for a long time, please go. Spend time in Eucharistic Adoration and allow Christ Himself to prepare you, and no matter what your fears....TRUST HIM. God wills our good, He desires that we come to him, especially with those things that make us fearful.
Take that step. Trust Jesus with your soul, and trust that He loves you even more than His own life, which He laid down for you.
*
God's grace is powerful, people.
I was at an Advent penance service (all individual confessions, no readings, et. al.), and as I was working, I spent a lot of the day praying for the penitents, that everything go well, and admittedly, for myself. And of coruse, that also meant that I was spending a lot of time setting things up as I had to coordinate much of the event, which was taking place for the religious education students.
It's been a very "dark" Advent for me, as I've been really struggling with something in particular, to the point of it being an all-out battle. Yes, we all have our "favorite" sins, I've just decided it's time to eliminate (or at least control) one of them.
Well, as I went through my day, I was often in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, and so there was an ongoing conversation with Jesus, especially with regard to Confession. I just went on Friday, and I didn't feel like I "needed" to go last night, but I WANTED to. As a rule, I don't go to Confession at work; I'm there for work and there should be a certain separation. As I have abundant access to the Sacraments, this really isn't a problem nor is it avoidance. It's just practical.
But last night, I had a sense that I was supposed to go to Confession, and that impression got stronger throughout the night. It would be face to face with a priest that I'd met through work, but whom I really didn't know. One of them, anyway. (There were several present tonight).
I've written of this before, but I very much prefer going to Confession anonymously, as it helps me to focus on what I need to say and who is REALLY hearing my sins, as opposed to the person standing in for Christ in that moment. So as you can imagine, I didn't relish the idea of going face to face, but I learned a long time ago that when I get that sense of needing to do something, and even a sense of peace about it, well, I have to obey.
As we neared the close of the evening, I looked around to see who was available of if any of the students seemed to be still waiting to join a line. All of the lines were coming to an end, but there was one priest in particular I was drawn towards. I didn't know him, knew nothing about him. Didn't even know his name. But I approached him tonight and instead of just saying, as I had for an earlier session,"We're done, Father, thank you for coming tonight", I sat down in the chair opposite him and said, "I need Confession, too."
As it turned out...he was EXACTLY the right priest, and as he responded to me, I was able to look him in the eye and know what humility was all about. One of my fears with going face to face is that I will sugar coat my sins, or maybe omit something out of embarassment, or shame, or what-have-you. Tonight I looked him in the eye, knowing that I was speaking to Christ through the person He sent me to, and knowing that right behind me was Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. And I could respond candidly, I could confess candidly...and it wasn't so bad.
What's so ironic is that this took place at my work...while I wore my nametag, where I might see this priest again, where he knows my boss, the pastor. All "conflicts" built up in my mind that I didn't want to deal with.
Here's the great thing; as it turned out, he knew the kind of struggle I was having from personal experience so made some recommendations based on that. We even spoke a little further after he had absolved me, as there was no one else in line. I can't even BEGIN to tell you what a great experience it was to swallow my pride in order to better confront some old rag of a sin.
And there's another cool thing; when he absolved me, he actually laid his hand on my head, and this time, when he said the words, it's as if that particular connection finally got through to me; I am forgiven!
It's OVER.
That sin...those sins....are GONE.
Gone.
I know that it's in the rite for the priest to actually lay his hand on the penitent's head during absolution, but I've never experienced that before, even in previous face to face confessions.
And you know....I feel free tonight. Jesus heard my prayers and brought me in a very profound way to His mercy. And even though I wasn't kneeling, and even though I wasn't "prepared", it was as it was supposed to be. Jesus drew me to exactly the right priest for this particular confession of this particular sin in my life.
*
All day long, I'd been praying and what continued to come to me in prayer was "Trust Me". I have a very difficult time in trusting anyone...meaning REAL trust, and I think that's also why I prefer anonymous confessions. And all day long...I was in the presence of Christ. And all day, He was calling me to trust Him with my soul...where else could I go?
We can't always pick and choose the right "time" for something. I would have preferred to have had this happen at my own comfortable parish, either with a priest known or unknown to me, but at least "home". Yet I see God's wisdom at work and how He prepared me throughout the day to do what He was asking me to do. The Holy Spirit is a perfect gentleman; He does not force us to do anything, but asks us, gently, and if we are willing to cooperate, He guides us in the way we should go. He speaks through the people in our life, and profoundly through the Sacrament of Confession.
I know I've been saying this a lot, and I'm going to keep saying it; if you've been away from the Sacrament of Confession for a long time, please go. Spend time in Eucharistic Adoration and allow Christ Himself to prepare you, and no matter what your fears....TRUST HIM. God wills our good, He desires that we come to him, especially with those things that make us fearful.
Take that step. Trust Jesus with your soul, and trust that He loves you even more than His own life, which He laid down for you.
*
The Catholic Carnival 202
Real Life Rosary Weblog: The Catholic Carnival 202
James Hahn hosted the Catholic Carnival for the first time, and did a great job. Head on over to see the great Advent and other incredible offerings available this week!
James Hahn hosted the Catholic Carnival for the first time, and did a great job. Head on over to see the great Advent and other incredible offerings available this week!
Monday, December 08, 2008
More on Penance Services
Parish the Thought: Advent Penance Services
Fr. Pelletier also wrote on this topic today and has yet another heartbreaking story of sacramental and spiritual malpractice. But he also writes with compassion for those who have been away from the Sacrament for so long, knowing that they deserve better than a sense of being rushed.
As I was once one of those people, I only went to that service because I couldn't make myself make an appointment, and I suspect that's often the case. But I do wish I had, for then my confession would have been even better, even more personal, and perhaps the priest could have helped me get out of the situation I was in. And perhaps I wouldn't have stayed away from the sacrament for another three years. (The priest didn't do anything wrong in my case, I'm just suggesting that had I made an appointment, he would have been free to help me even more.)
So please go read what Father has to say, and if you're one of those people who have been away from the Sacrament, even if you can't bring yourself to make an appointment (please try! I speak from experience!), then at least GO this Advent. There will be plenty of opportunities!
Fr. Pelletier also wrote on this topic today and has yet another heartbreaking story of sacramental and spiritual malpractice. But he also writes with compassion for those who have been away from the Sacrament for so long, knowing that they deserve better than a sense of being rushed.
As I was once one of those people, I only went to that service because I couldn't make myself make an appointment, and I suspect that's often the case. But I do wish I had, for then my confession would have been even better, even more personal, and perhaps the priest could have helped me get out of the situation I was in. And perhaps I wouldn't have stayed away from the sacrament for another three years. (The priest didn't do anything wrong in my case, I'm just suggesting that had I made an appointment, he would have been free to help me even more.)
So please go read what Father has to say, and if you're one of those people who have been away from the Sacrament, even if you can't bring yourself to make an appointment (please try! I speak from experience!), then at least GO this Advent. There will be plenty of opportunities!
General Absolution = FORBIDDEN!
Fr. Hulk (Now Fr. Cranky)has another great post up today, this time about Communal Penance services, wherin he defines the different forms.
I'm going to skip to his main point (bolded sections are my emphasis):
The United States recognizes three forms of the process, two of which are allowed, and one which is forbidden except in extreme emergency (civil war, nuclear war, Wrath-of-God type natural disaster when bodies are stacked like cord-wood and there seems no hope for any of us and we want to get right with God before we see Him face-to-face).
Form three is forbidden in the United States except under the conditions listed above. Of course, therefore, this is a common use in the U.S. It is where everyone gathers, listens to some long-winded homily about the eco-sins we have committed against our mother Gaia/Earth and our social sins by not voting for homosexual marriage, and then we all think really haaaaard, and really sorrrrry for our sins, the priest flaps around like a chicken, and presto-chango our sins are gone. We skip happily home having put out no effort other than to drive there and back and feel really good about ourselves. Murder, adultery, abortion, all forgiven with no fuss and no muss. Except for the fact that this type of service is forbidden. Little catch there we don't like to recognize. (I really like typing forbidden in italics!)
So what caused the priest to take it upon himself to offer such illicit activities? Maybe people actually showed up to acknowledge their sins and ask for forgiveness. That's a shocker than can rock Fr. Progressive ('scuse me, just call me Proggy) right back on his heels. Despite his best efforts for years and years to convince people there is no such thing as a real sin, some of they cling to their guns and God (sound familiar) and still think they need forgiving. A real turnout can panic Proggy because he didn't schedule enough priests to be there, and he might have to actually hear confessions completely through the time when Desperate Housewives is showing. Quelle horror! So you think, Proggy flaps, and we all get what we want.
Here's a little thought. What about confessions offered during times when folks actually show up, as well as having a Saturday afternoon/appointment schedule? Oh let's say before and after every Mass? Or if multiple priests are in a parish, it is permissible to offer confessions during Mass itself. Oh, I know the liturgists cringe at such a thought, but if folks are there, and they are sorry, we can offer the opportunity. It does mean extra work though for the priest. He may not get to rush off to breakfast or lunch with the well-heeled parishioners, or dash back up to the rectory for a scotch and soda right away.
*
AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!
While so many of us are clinging to our guns and our God and recognizing up and down that we NEED individual absolution, that Christ ESTABLISHED the Sacrament that way, there are STILL badly-formed priests out there who find every flimsy excuse in the world to keep people from receiving the mercy of Christ HIMSELF!
I know of a few parishes in our Archdiocese that, at least until last year, were offering this illicit, nay...FORBIDDEN form of the sacrament, in spite of the fact that several successive Bishops have notified them of that fact. (Apparently their vows of obedience to the Bishop weren't considered very important, either....)
And I'll stop there, because I'm going down the bad road to criticizing priests. I'll not name any names or any parishes in order to protect the guilty; for as I've read, it is for God alone to deal with disobedient priests. It is OUR place to pray for them. We can recognize that they are doing something wrong, and we can certainly speak out, write the Bishop, etc., but we can never attack a priest.
Suffice to say, at this point, that it saddens me that people are being lead to believe first that it's just fine and dandy to be disobedient, and secondly, that Jesus didn't have to be taken seriously when He gave the example of personal forgiveness.
Seriously. Search scripture. Just try to find ONE example where Jesus gave "general absolution" to a crowd of people. Where He said "your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more" to an entire group.
It's not in there. In EVERY case, the forgiveness and mercy of Jesus Christ arose out of a PROFOUND PERSONAL ENCOUNTER with Our Lord, and THAT is what He intended when He gave the Apostles (Jn 20:21) the authority to forgive sin in His name.
I, for one, am profoundly grateful for this Sacrament. And I've made difficult confessions, my twelve-year one having even been made face-to-face at a (Form 2) Communal service. It was turning point in my life, it was amazing to realize that in spite of the mess that I was, I was FORGIVEN!
Had I gone to a General Absolution service, I would have left knowing that I wasn't really forgiven because it wasn't personal and there was no emergency.
The only thing Fr. Hulk left out of his post was this: Those who receive General Absolution in an emergency, if they survive that emergency, they remain OBLIGATED to confess any mortal sins...such as adultery, pornography, abortion, murder, sacrilege, etc.
And this is not a punitive thing! It is an expression of the Mercy of God, who knows that if we have committed such sins, we don't just need forgiveness, but we need healing. It is a pastoral concern. There are a lot of wounded people out there who need something more than a magick wand waved over them. They need a personal encounter with Christ, and if they are being denied, they cannot experience true conversion. They cannot fully live up to who they are called to be.
It saddens me so much that disobedient priests cause so much damage to so many people. Pray for them, and pray for all those who have been cut off from God's Mercy, in hopes that they will finally go to Christ's ministers for the healing and forgiveness they desperately need.
*
NOTE: Link has been updated as Father's blog has moved.
I'm going to skip to his main point (bolded sections are my emphasis):
The United States recognizes three forms of the process, two of which are allowed, and one which is forbidden except in extreme emergency (civil war, nuclear war, Wrath-of-God type natural disaster when bodies are stacked like cord-wood and there seems no hope for any of us and we want to get right with God before we see Him face-to-face).
Form three is forbidden in the United States except under the conditions listed above. Of course, therefore, this is a common use in the U.S. It is where everyone gathers, listens to some long-winded homily about the eco-sins we have committed against our mother Gaia/Earth and our social sins by not voting for homosexual marriage, and then we all think really haaaaard, and really sorrrrry for our sins, the priest flaps around like a chicken, and presto-chango our sins are gone. We skip happily home having put out no effort other than to drive there and back and feel really good about ourselves. Murder, adultery, abortion, all forgiven with no fuss and no muss. Except for the fact that this type of service is forbidden. Little catch there we don't like to recognize. (I really like typing forbidden in italics!)
So what caused the priest to take it upon himself to offer such illicit activities? Maybe people actually showed up to acknowledge their sins and ask for forgiveness. That's a shocker than can rock Fr. Progressive ('scuse me, just call me Proggy) right back on his heels. Despite his best efforts for years and years to convince people there is no such thing as a real sin, some of they cling to their guns and God (sound familiar) and still think they need forgiving. A real turnout can panic Proggy because he didn't schedule enough priests to be there, and he might have to actually hear confessions completely through the time when Desperate Housewives is showing. Quelle horror! So you think, Proggy flaps, and we all get what we want.
Here's a little thought. What about confessions offered during times when folks actually show up, as well as having a Saturday afternoon/appointment schedule? Oh let's say before and after every Mass? Or if multiple priests are in a parish, it is permissible to offer confessions during Mass itself. Oh, I know the liturgists cringe at such a thought, but if folks are there, and they are sorry, we can offer the opportunity. It does mean extra work though for the priest. He may not get to rush off to breakfast or lunch with the well-heeled parishioners, or dash back up to the rectory for a scotch and soda right away.
*
AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!
While so many of us are clinging to our guns and our God and recognizing up and down that we NEED individual absolution, that Christ ESTABLISHED the Sacrament that way, there are STILL badly-formed priests out there who find every flimsy excuse in the world to keep people from receiving the mercy of Christ HIMSELF!
I know of a few parishes in our Archdiocese that, at least until last year, were offering this illicit, nay...FORBIDDEN form of the sacrament, in spite of the fact that several successive Bishops have notified them of that fact. (Apparently their vows of obedience to the Bishop weren't considered very important, either....)
And I'll stop there, because I'm going down the bad road to criticizing priests. I'll not name any names or any parishes in order to protect the guilty; for as I've read, it is for God alone to deal with disobedient priests. It is OUR place to pray for them. We can recognize that they are doing something wrong, and we can certainly speak out, write the Bishop, etc., but we can never attack a priest.
Suffice to say, at this point, that it saddens me that people are being lead to believe first that it's just fine and dandy to be disobedient, and secondly, that Jesus didn't have to be taken seriously when He gave the example of personal forgiveness.
Seriously. Search scripture. Just try to find ONE example where Jesus gave "general absolution" to a crowd of people. Where He said "your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more" to an entire group.
It's not in there. In EVERY case, the forgiveness and mercy of Jesus Christ arose out of a PROFOUND PERSONAL ENCOUNTER with Our Lord, and THAT is what He intended when He gave the Apostles (Jn 20:21) the authority to forgive sin in His name.
I, for one, am profoundly grateful for this Sacrament. And I've made difficult confessions, my twelve-year one having even been made face-to-face at a (Form 2) Communal service. It was turning point in my life, it was amazing to realize that in spite of the mess that I was, I was FORGIVEN!
Had I gone to a General Absolution service, I would have left knowing that I wasn't really forgiven because it wasn't personal and there was no emergency.
The only thing Fr. Hulk left out of his post was this: Those who receive General Absolution in an emergency, if they survive that emergency, they remain OBLIGATED to confess any mortal sins...such as adultery, pornography, abortion, murder, sacrilege, etc.
And this is not a punitive thing! It is an expression of the Mercy of God, who knows that if we have committed such sins, we don't just need forgiveness, but we need healing. It is a pastoral concern. There are a lot of wounded people out there who need something more than a magick wand waved over them. They need a personal encounter with Christ, and if they are being denied, they cannot experience true conversion. They cannot fully live up to who they are called to be.
It saddens me so much that disobedient priests cause so much damage to so many people. Pray for them, and pray for all those who have been cut off from God's Mercy, in hopes that they will finally go to Christ's ministers for the healing and forgiveness they desperately need.
*
NOTE: Link has been updated as Father's blog has moved.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Testament to God's Mercy
If I was ever treated as badly by another person as I treat God on a regular basis, I would never have time for that person ever again.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
The One-Virtue Challenge
A couple years ago, I attended a series of Advent talks given by a Priest at my parish. I'm afraid I don't remember a lot of what he said, but he made one point that continues to stick with me, because it's still a problem. It was then, it is now, and perhaps it shall ever be so.
Virtue Pitfall #1:
The good Father pointed out that many people, when trying to overcome vices, try to work on all of them all at once. Sometimes it's a matter of improper focus; as on the vice instead of the virtue, which is truly what is desired. For example, if we are impatient, certainly we need to recognize we are impatient, but then our focus should not be on the negative word, but on the virtue we desire to obtain.
In other words, our prayer should not be "Lord, help me not to be impatient today," but rather, "Lord, grant me the grace to be more patient with my family."
It's hard to get rid of the elephant in the room if we're constantly addressing it by name.
His suggestion, then, was firs to focus on the goal, that being the virtue we desire.
Virtue Pitfall #2:
His second suggestion: Don't work on ALL the virtues at once! If you try that, you're setting yourself up for failure!
I admit I kinda shrunk down in my pew at that statement. Guilty! I have this terrible habit of seeing how awful I am from all the standpoints. In doing an examination of conscience, naturally it came to my attention that I had no fortitude, selective prudence, no patience, selective obedience, humility - fogeddabodit!, and temperance - ha! Right!
So of course, I'd go to Confession, confess all my shortcomings and a week later I'd be back, having completely failed in ALL of them. Maybe I'd be ok for a day or so. But then would come the crash.
I knew Father was right, in that it made more sense to focus on only one thing instead of all things. Although I was impatient (see?) to obtain these virtues, in my hurry, I was like the proverbial guy with the overloaded camel; always stopping to pick up the mess.
The Remedy?
Pick a period of time. As this is once again Advent, this is a perfect time to follow his good advice. Choose one virtue, and offer it as a gift to Our Lord at Christmas. God has so many gifts and blessings for us, but we also have this wonderful ongoing opportunity to offer gifts back to Him. Could there be anything more beautiful than coming to Mass at Christmas and offering our attempts at holiness? For even in our failures, God is glorified, for we are motivated by love so as to love Him more.
I'm still struggling at picking just ONE. It's like holiness is a bag of chips...if I like one Virtue, for some reason, I like them all and I can't stop with just one! (Hmmm...maybe Temperance should be my choice this Advent!)
A funny thing happened this semester, though, because of course, I discovered more theology that supports Father's advice, but it goes further back than I ever realized.
According to the Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena, revelations from the Eternal Father (as this translation refers to God the Father) give us some amazing insight:
Wherefore, learn, that, in many cases I give one virtue, to be as it were the chief of the others...to one I will give principally love, to another justice, to another humility, to one a lively faith, to another prudence or temperance, or patience, to another fortitude. These, and many other virtues, I place, indifferently, in the souls...it happens, therefore, that the particular one so placed in the soul becomes the principal object of its virtue; the soul disposing herself, for her chief conversation, to this rather than to the other virtues, and by the effect of this virtue, the soul draws to herself all the other virtues, which...are all bound together in the affection of love.
I have not placed them all in one soul, in order that man should, perforce, have material for love of his fellow.
Firstly, realize that first quote is, in fact, one sentence and actually goes on. But what a LOADED sentence it is! And the second sentence draws us to the Great Commandment...love of God is love of neighbor.
Ultimately, it makes perfect sense that we choose one virtue and work on it, one at a time. Through that ONE virtue, the others are united, and, all are joined through the fire of charity. St. Catherine uses the imagery of the virtues as paving-stones, and the mortar is love; the message to all of us is clear:
Keep your eyes on Christ, embrace the Cross you have been given, and focus on one of the virtues in your life with which you struggle to obtain. In this way, we all walk towards holiness, one paving-stone at a time.
*
Virtue Pitfall #1:
The good Father pointed out that many people, when trying to overcome vices, try to work on all of them all at once. Sometimes it's a matter of improper focus; as on the vice instead of the virtue, which is truly what is desired. For example, if we are impatient, certainly we need to recognize we are impatient, but then our focus should not be on the negative word, but on the virtue we desire to obtain.
In other words, our prayer should not be "Lord, help me not to be impatient today," but rather, "Lord, grant me the grace to be more patient with my family."
It's hard to get rid of the elephant in the room if we're constantly addressing it by name.
His suggestion, then, was firs to focus on the goal, that being the virtue we desire.
Virtue Pitfall #2:
His second suggestion: Don't work on ALL the virtues at once! If you try that, you're setting yourself up for failure!
I admit I kinda shrunk down in my pew at that statement. Guilty! I have this terrible habit of seeing how awful I am from all the standpoints. In doing an examination of conscience, naturally it came to my attention that I had no fortitude, selective prudence, no patience, selective obedience, humility - fogeddabodit!, and temperance - ha! Right!
So of course, I'd go to Confession, confess all my shortcomings and a week later I'd be back, having completely failed in ALL of them. Maybe I'd be ok for a day or so. But then would come the crash.
I knew Father was right, in that it made more sense to focus on only one thing instead of all things. Although I was impatient (see?) to obtain these virtues, in my hurry, I was like the proverbial guy with the overloaded camel; always stopping to pick up the mess.
The Remedy?
Pick a period of time. As this is once again Advent, this is a perfect time to follow his good advice. Choose one virtue, and offer it as a gift to Our Lord at Christmas. God has so many gifts and blessings for us, but we also have this wonderful ongoing opportunity to offer gifts back to Him. Could there be anything more beautiful than coming to Mass at Christmas and offering our attempts at holiness? For even in our failures, God is glorified, for we are motivated by love so as to love Him more.
I'm still struggling at picking just ONE. It's like holiness is a bag of chips...if I like one Virtue, for some reason, I like them all and I can't stop with just one! (Hmmm...maybe Temperance should be my choice this Advent!)
A funny thing happened this semester, though, because of course, I discovered more theology that supports Father's advice, but it goes further back than I ever realized.
According to the Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena, revelations from the Eternal Father (as this translation refers to God the Father) give us some amazing insight:
Wherefore, learn, that, in many cases I give one virtue, to be as it were the chief of the others...to one I will give principally love, to another justice, to another humility, to one a lively faith, to another prudence or temperance, or patience, to another fortitude. These, and many other virtues, I place, indifferently, in the souls...it happens, therefore, that the particular one so placed in the soul becomes the principal object of its virtue; the soul disposing herself, for her chief conversation, to this rather than to the other virtues, and by the effect of this virtue, the soul draws to herself all the other virtues, which...are all bound together in the affection of love.
I have not placed them all in one soul, in order that man should, perforce, have material for love of his fellow.
Firstly, realize that first quote is, in fact, one sentence and actually goes on. But what a LOADED sentence it is! And the second sentence draws us to the Great Commandment...love of God is love of neighbor.
Ultimately, it makes perfect sense that we choose one virtue and work on it, one at a time. Through that ONE virtue, the others are united, and, all are joined through the fire of charity. St. Catherine uses the imagery of the virtues as paving-stones, and the mortar is love; the message to all of us is clear:
Keep your eyes on Christ, embrace the Cross you have been given, and focus on one of the virtues in your life with which you struggle to obtain. In this way, we all walk towards holiness, one paving-stone at a time.
*
Friday, December 05, 2008
A New Hero
I found my new hero. In my bad habit of clicking on random links, I discovered Fr. Hulk's blog, and have thoroughly enjoyed myself by reading his posts (instead of the Summa and other things for class.)
Although I found much worthy of linkage, THIS is the post that made me fall out of my chair laughing uproarously. (Quite undignified, glad there were no witnesses!)
TOUCHDOWN!
What's with all the arm waving and ballerina gestures during Mass? As I read and re-read the GIRM, I just can't find the sections telling the assembly to start flapping around like chickens with their heads cut off.
In my extensive travels of the country I notice this more in the western states than in the midwest and east. Thankfully it seems to be contained and doesn't seem to be spreading, but where it has taken hold, brother it has really taken hold.
When responding to "The Lord be with you" there is no instruction to make a wide sweeping ballerina gesture toward the altar. The priest's gestures are not intended for you - at all. The priest opens and closes his hands in prayer to God invoking the Holy Spirit on those gathered. He isn't waving hello, so there is no need to wave back.
My least favorite part comes during the praying of the Our Father, although we rarely get to pray this prayer anymore, but rather stand there while some Caruso wanna be belches something into an over amplified microphone. But I love it when people who want nothing to do with each other during the entire Mass, suddenly start running and leaping around in order to hold hand with perfect strangers who just finished sneezing and coughing into their hands. In small assemblies, or during daily Mass (when we do get to pray the prayer) it is fun to watch folks who have chosen to sit as far away from anyone else as possible suddenly doing Olympic sprints and jumping pews like hurdles in order to hold hands with someone they rejected when they chose their seat.
Then, in the height of hypocrisy, someone has told them to signal TOUCHDOWN during the embolism of the prayer (For the Kingdom . . . ). So while the entire assembly signals that somehow a cosmic touchdown has happened (or is it a good field goal?), the best part happens next. All these people who have dashed together to show "togetherness and love" now fling down their arms and rush as quickly as possible away from each other. It is comical if it weren't tragic. Some liturgical buffoon has convinced them to make this 'meaningful' act, which is rendered meaningless by their own actions and attitudes during the rest of the Mass. If they really wanted togetherness, they would sit with each other, but they don't, but like good trained seals have been trained to jump over pews and run through churches so they can hold hands and signal touchdown in a meaningless gesture.
OH MY GOODNESS, he's so RIGHT! While this crazyness doesn't take place at my parish, I do see a LOT of the "Touchdown" gesture at the cue word "Kingdom", and of course, the ballerina gesture with the "and also with you".
I'M SO GLAD HE SAID IT!
(And I'm putting him on my list of "People I'd love to meet but probably never will.")
Although I found much worthy of linkage, THIS is the post that made me fall out of my chair laughing uproarously. (Quite undignified, glad there were no witnesses!)
TOUCHDOWN!
What's with all the arm waving and ballerina gestures during Mass? As I read and re-read the GIRM, I just can't find the sections telling the assembly to start flapping around like chickens with their heads cut off.
In my extensive travels of the country I notice this more in the western states than in the midwest and east. Thankfully it seems to be contained and doesn't seem to be spreading, but where it has taken hold, brother it has really taken hold.
When responding to "The Lord be with you" there is no instruction to make a wide sweeping ballerina gesture toward the altar. The priest's gestures are not intended for you - at all. The priest opens and closes his hands in prayer to God invoking the Holy Spirit on those gathered. He isn't waving hello, so there is no need to wave back.
My least favorite part comes during the praying of the Our Father, although we rarely get to pray this prayer anymore, but rather stand there while some Caruso wanna be belches something into an over amplified microphone. But I love it when people who want nothing to do with each other during the entire Mass, suddenly start running and leaping around in order to hold hand with perfect strangers who just finished sneezing and coughing into their hands. In small assemblies, or during daily Mass (when we do get to pray the prayer) it is fun to watch folks who have chosen to sit as far away from anyone else as possible suddenly doing Olympic sprints and jumping pews like hurdles in order to hold hands with someone they rejected when they chose their seat.
Then, in the height of hypocrisy, someone has told them to signal TOUCHDOWN during the embolism of the prayer (For the Kingdom . . . ). So while the entire assembly signals that somehow a cosmic touchdown has happened (or is it a good field goal?), the best part happens next. All these people who have dashed together to show "togetherness and love" now fling down their arms and rush as quickly as possible away from each other. It is comical if it weren't tragic. Some liturgical buffoon has convinced them to make this 'meaningful' act, which is rendered meaningless by their own actions and attitudes during the rest of the Mass. If they really wanted togetherness, they would sit with each other, but they don't, but like good trained seals have been trained to jump over pews and run through churches so they can hold hands and signal touchdown in a meaningless gesture.
OH MY GOODNESS, he's so RIGHT! While this crazyness doesn't take place at my parish, I do see a LOT of the "Touchdown" gesture at the cue word "Kingdom", and of course, the ballerina gesture with the "and also with you".
I'M SO GLAD HE SAID IT!
(And I'm putting him on my list of "People I'd love to meet but probably never will.")
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Gangrene
Several years ago, I was going through EMT training and had to do clinicals at a local trauma hospital. This was a part of my firefighter training program, so that very same night one of my classmates was doing his required ambulance ride-along. They brought in a man whom they believed was suffering from gangrene.
My classmate described to us the smell in the home. They were a family of immigrants, and he simply could not understand why this man wasn't taken in to the doctor sooner...the scent of putrefaction was overpowering. How did they live with it?
But they couldn't get answers to these questions...the man and most of his family spoke Spanish only. So for the time being, he was alone, waiting for a nurse. So we, the EMT students, were called into action. And as I was the lone Spanish-speaker, I was sent into the examining room to the very sweaty, very feverish-looking-putrid-smelling man.
My classmates waited at the door as I introduced myself to the man and asked permission to take his vitals.
When I addressed him in Spanish, immediately his eyes lit up, and he smiled through his obvious misery. It didn't matter to him that I was only an EMT student and that my Spanish wasn't up to par. He was happy to speak to me.
I'll admit it was hard to be in that tiny room with him and not wrinkle my nose or show obvious distress over the smell emanating from his suppurating wound. He allowed us all to see it, and, upon the prompting of our preceptor, I asked him how that had happened.
I'm not sure of the age of the man; maybe in his 50's or 60's. He wasn't a large person, was quite wiry-looking, but clearly weakened in his state. He'd spent much of his life in the sun of Mexico, working in fields, and his skin told that tale very clearly. But it wasn't obvious why, high up on his upper thigh, he had a wound such as something I'd never seen, surrounded by green and darkened flesh.
He explained that in Mexico, he worked in the fields, and overhead, planes would fly over to cover the fields in pesticides. The man had a truck he used to drive all over the farm, and the spray from the plane would be all over the seat. At one point, he had gotten a wound on his leg; nothing major, nothing to worry about. Just a sore that came from constant contact with the poison. But it got infected since it was in perpetual exposure to the pesticides. He tried to keep it clean and dry, but through his everyday work, it just continued getting worse. Somewhere in there he moved to the United States to join his family, but by then the infection was already spreading. It was growing worse and worse by the day. His family tried to care for him, but they, and he, finally had to admit that it was too much. Even being away from the source of his infection wasn't enough.
Gangrene is nasty; it's an infection beyond infection. It never starts at putrefaction; gangrene takes time to set in. It always begins from something small, but once it gets that bad, there's no turning back; intervention is needed to save that person's life, or they will go into septic shock.
That's where my patient was that night; experiencing septic shock. He would have died had he not been brought into the trauma center, and as it was, his life was in danger.
And there was no doubt that he was going to lose his entire leg, maybe part of his hip, in order to save his life.
Amazing how our physical condition mirrors the interior life.
Mortal sin is nothing different than spiritual gangrene. Mortal sin is death, it is complete separation from God. Violent separation from God.
We never just "fall" into mortal sin; it starts somewhere. Maybe with something seemingly small. Some little sin. But that little sin, even if recognized but not properly attended, can get worse, especially if we don't remove ourselves from the occasion that inspired it.
And then, even as all those little sins are progressing, we rationalize them away, and suggest that they are fine, it'll get better, we can just spray a little Bactine and in a few days there won't even be a mark.
But the Bactine doesn't work, because we're still walking around in poison, and ignoring the obvious infection. And even as it's getting worse and starting to smell, and red lines are running away from the wound, and bacteria is being carried around and spread elsewhere, we still delay, thinking that really, we're fine. This will heal on its own, with our measly apathetic "efforts."
Obstinance.
And by then, it's so bad that we're ashamed of ourselves, we can't hide the wound, although we try and we even try to fool ourselves into thinking that no one will notice. So instead of going in and admitting we need a bandaid, now we've got this huge, gaping, pus-filled wound and we're so terrified that we can't even bring ourselves to show it to the Divine Physician. Even though He knows all about it.
We sometimes have to hit the ground, dying from septic shock, before we will drag ourselves in to Confession and ask for help.
Everyone around us knows about it. But sometimes even they ignore it, because they are afraid to hurt our feelings if they tell us how badly our wounds smell, and they're even willing to clean up the mess made by the oozing pus. We're all dying from the well-intentioned political-correctness of our neighbors.
That isn't love.
That's our souls, people, when we commit mortal sin. It goes from being maybe a little stained, to a little more stained, to complete degradation, gangrenous, oozing pus-filled decomposition.
For those who have seen gangrene...imagine that. If you've committed mortal sin, that's what your soul looks like. That's what you smell like.
But there's a difference between the medical treatment for gangrene and the spiritual treatment: in the medical world, it involves major surgery, maybe amputation of a limb that has been lost. The physical being of the person will never be the same. They will lose something they always took for granted.
The spiritual treatment is God's Mercy. He knows all of our suppurating, festering wounds, and when we go to Confession and reveal that wound willingly, He separates us from it even MORE cleanly than does a surgeon, but with an even bigger difference: we lose nothing, and gain everything.
We do not lose limbs by going to Christ with our gangrenous souls: instead, He restores our lives and makes us better than we were before. He gives us grace, He heals us, He welcomes us back into His Own Body.
If we only have the courage to go to Jesus in the Sacrament of Confession, uncover the wound He knows is there, and ask for forgiveness. It's quick, it's painless, and it leads to eternal life.
What are we waiting for?
What are YOU waiting for? Jesus awaits.
*
From Vespers:
*
My classmate described to us the smell in the home. They were a family of immigrants, and he simply could not understand why this man wasn't taken in to the doctor sooner...the scent of putrefaction was overpowering. How did they live with it?
But they couldn't get answers to these questions...the man and most of his family spoke Spanish only. So for the time being, he was alone, waiting for a nurse. So we, the EMT students, were called into action. And as I was the lone Spanish-speaker, I was sent into the examining room to the very sweaty, very feverish-looking-putrid-smelling man.
My classmates waited at the door as I introduced myself to the man and asked permission to take his vitals.
When I addressed him in Spanish, immediately his eyes lit up, and he smiled through his obvious misery. It didn't matter to him that I was only an EMT student and that my Spanish wasn't up to par. He was happy to speak to me.
I'll admit it was hard to be in that tiny room with him and not wrinkle my nose or show obvious distress over the smell emanating from his suppurating wound. He allowed us all to see it, and, upon the prompting of our preceptor, I asked him how that had happened.
I'm not sure of the age of the man; maybe in his 50's or 60's. He wasn't a large person, was quite wiry-looking, but clearly weakened in his state. He'd spent much of his life in the sun of Mexico, working in fields, and his skin told that tale very clearly. But it wasn't obvious why, high up on his upper thigh, he had a wound such as something I'd never seen, surrounded by green and darkened flesh.
He explained that in Mexico, he worked in the fields, and overhead, planes would fly over to cover the fields in pesticides. The man had a truck he used to drive all over the farm, and the spray from the plane would be all over the seat. At one point, he had gotten a wound on his leg; nothing major, nothing to worry about. Just a sore that came from constant contact with the poison. But it got infected since it was in perpetual exposure to the pesticides. He tried to keep it clean and dry, but through his everyday work, it just continued getting worse. Somewhere in there he moved to the United States to join his family, but by then the infection was already spreading. It was growing worse and worse by the day. His family tried to care for him, but they, and he, finally had to admit that it was too much. Even being away from the source of his infection wasn't enough.
Gangrene is nasty; it's an infection beyond infection. It never starts at putrefaction; gangrene takes time to set in. It always begins from something small, but once it gets that bad, there's no turning back; intervention is needed to save that person's life, or they will go into septic shock.
That's where my patient was that night; experiencing septic shock. He would have died had he not been brought into the trauma center, and as it was, his life was in danger.
And there was no doubt that he was going to lose his entire leg, maybe part of his hip, in order to save his life.
Amazing how our physical condition mirrors the interior life.
Mortal sin is nothing different than spiritual gangrene. Mortal sin is death, it is complete separation from God. Violent separation from God.
We never just "fall" into mortal sin; it starts somewhere. Maybe with something seemingly small. Some little sin. But that little sin, even if recognized but not properly attended, can get worse, especially if we don't remove ourselves from the occasion that inspired it.
And then, even as all those little sins are progressing, we rationalize them away, and suggest that they are fine, it'll get better, we can just spray a little Bactine and in a few days there won't even be a mark.
But the Bactine doesn't work, because we're still walking around in poison, and ignoring the obvious infection. And even as it's getting worse and starting to smell, and red lines are running away from the wound, and bacteria is being carried around and spread elsewhere, we still delay, thinking that really, we're fine. This will heal on its own, with our measly apathetic "efforts."
Obstinance.
And by then, it's so bad that we're ashamed of ourselves, we can't hide the wound, although we try and we even try to fool ourselves into thinking that no one will notice. So instead of going in and admitting we need a bandaid, now we've got this huge, gaping, pus-filled wound and we're so terrified that we can't even bring ourselves to show it to the Divine Physician. Even though He knows all about it.
We sometimes have to hit the ground, dying from septic shock, before we will drag ourselves in to Confession and ask for help.
Everyone around us knows about it. But sometimes even they ignore it, because they are afraid to hurt our feelings if they tell us how badly our wounds smell, and they're even willing to clean up the mess made by the oozing pus. We're all dying from the well-intentioned political-correctness of our neighbors.
That isn't love.
That's our souls, people, when we commit mortal sin. It goes from being maybe a little stained, to a little more stained, to complete degradation, gangrenous, oozing pus-filled decomposition.
For those who have seen gangrene...imagine that. If you've committed mortal sin, that's what your soul looks like. That's what you smell like.
But there's a difference between the medical treatment for gangrene and the spiritual treatment: in the medical world, it involves major surgery, maybe amputation of a limb that has been lost. The physical being of the person will never be the same. They will lose something they always took for granted.
The spiritual treatment is God's Mercy. He knows all of our suppurating, festering wounds, and when we go to Confession and reveal that wound willingly, He separates us from it even MORE cleanly than does a surgeon, but with an even bigger difference: we lose nothing, and gain everything.
We do not lose limbs by going to Christ with our gangrenous souls: instead, He restores our lives and makes us better than we were before. He gives us grace, He heals us, He welcomes us back into His Own Body.
If we only have the courage to go to Jesus in the Sacrament of Confession, uncover the wound He knows is there, and ask for forgiveness. It's quick, it's painless, and it leads to eternal life.
What are we waiting for?
What are YOU waiting for? Jesus awaits.
*
From Vespers:
Psalm-Prayer
You desired, Lord, to keep from us your indignation and so did not spare Jesus Christ, who was wounded for our sins. We are your prodigal children, but confessing our sins we come back to you. Embrace us that we may rejoice in your mercy together with Christ your beloved Son.
*
Games for the Idle
I picked this one up at Snoring Scholar. Let me make it clear that I'm not proud of all the things on this list!
How to play: BOLD anything you have done.
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland (DisneyWorld)
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied (in general)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelos David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (do ride-alongs count?)
47. Had your portrait painted - (Caricature, actually. Does that count?)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie (actually, it was a commercial)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book (have had 2 short stories published in an anthology)
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible (over the course of years, not all at once)
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit (it was my job!)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Read an entire book in one day
How to play: BOLD anything you have done.
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland (DisneyWorld)
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied (in general)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelos David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (do ride-alongs count?)
47. Had your portrait painted - (Caricature, actually. Does that count?)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie (actually, it was a commercial)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book (have had 2 short stories published in an anthology)
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible (over the course of years, not all at once)
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit (it was my job!)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Read an entire book in one day
Shhh....Don't Tell Father I Told You This....But...
...I have it on good authority that today is his BIRTHDAY!
So go on over and wish Father Schnippel a big ol' HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and make sure you tell him that you'll pray for him and for Vocations. I can't imagine he'd like anything better. Except maybe a coffee cup that says "Breakfast" or "Lunch" on it, so that he'll know what time of day it is. But other than that, prayers are the best possible gift!
Oh, and make sure you spend time looking around his blog. He's got a lot of great things to say, and as you know, good priests always need a lot of support.
UPDATE! Father has a great story about the day of his birth and that of his brother's. (They are identical twins). Go read!
So go on over and wish Father Schnippel a big ol' HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and make sure you tell him that you'll pray for him and for Vocations. I can't imagine he'd like anything better. Except maybe a coffee cup that says "Breakfast" or "Lunch" on it, so that he'll know what time of day it is. But other than that, prayers are the best possible gift!
Oh, and make sure you spend time looking around his blog. He's got a lot of great things to say, and as you know, good priests always need a lot of support.
UPDATE! Father has a great story about the day of his birth and that of his brother's. (They are identical twins). Go read!
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Surprises and Prayers
It was a long hard day today, and it's been a rough week, for many reasons. This evening, though, I came home to a very welcome surprise.
There, in my mailbox, was a small package from the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles, Priory of Our Lady of Ephesus in Kansas City, MO. What could it be?
Sure enough, as the letter accompanying it explained, it is the first release of their CD, Echoes of Ephesus. And even better...there on the cover photo is my friend Sister Mary Gibson, in her postulant habit. Her Investiture will be taking place in only a little over a month from now, on the Feast of the Epiphany.
I am listening to the CD as I write this, and can testify that it is the PERFECT way to end my day; the music is beautiful, a mixture of Latin and English, traditional hymns and some new compositions using music completely coherent with their way of life which hasn't changed for thousands of years. (But for some technical upgrades!)
Tonight, as I pray night prayer, I will do so especially cognizant that the book in my hand has my friend's name inscribed inside the cover, and I will be listening to her sing with her Sisters. It was only a year ago that she visited the monastery, and last year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I met her after her meeting with her Spiritual Director, and just before we went in to Mass, she gave me the official news...that it was a YES!
Please keep Sister Mary Gibson in your prayers as she prepares for the next stage in her Vocation on the Feast of the Epiphany, and pray for all the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles.
There, in my mailbox, was a small package from the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles, Priory of Our Lady of Ephesus in Kansas City, MO. What could it be?
Sure enough, as the letter accompanying it explained, it is the first release of their CD, Echoes of Ephesus. And even better...there on the cover photo is my friend Sister Mary Gibson, in her postulant habit. Her Investiture will be taking place in only a little over a month from now, on the Feast of the Epiphany.
I am listening to the CD as I write this, and can testify that it is the PERFECT way to end my day; the music is beautiful, a mixture of Latin and English, traditional hymns and some new compositions using music completely coherent with their way of life which hasn't changed for thousands of years. (But for some technical upgrades!)
Tonight, as I pray night prayer, I will do so especially cognizant that the book in my hand has my friend's name inscribed inside the cover, and I will be listening to her sing with her Sisters. It was only a year ago that she visited the monastery, and last year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I met her after her meeting with her Spiritual Director, and just before we went in to Mass, she gave me the official news...that it was a YES!
Please keep Sister Mary Gibson in your prayers as she prepares for the next stage in her Vocation on the Feast of the Epiphany, and pray for all the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles.
I love you, Lord, my strength
From the Office of Readings today:
I love you, Lord, my strength,
my rock, my fortress, my savior.
My God is the rock wheer I take refuge;
my shield, my mighty help, my stronghold.
The Lord is worthy of all praise:
when I call I am saved from my foes.
The waves of death rose about me;
the torrents of destruction assailed me;
the snares of the grave entangled me;
the traps of death confronted me.
In my anguish I called to the Lord;
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came to his ears.
Ant. I love you, Lord; you are my strength
Ant. 2 The Lord has saved me; he wanted me for his own.
*
( Note on the sketch; I drew that one night at work when I was realizing my life needed to change, and I knew there was only ONE place where I could find salvation. I didn't have the theological understanding. It was purely Grace that made me reach out from the destruction of my life towards the folly and the anguish of the Cross.)
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
I am Gomer
One of my greatest temptations is idolatry. In the most biblical sense of the term.
Many of my friends know that I have two tattoos....one of a coyote, the other of a horse. I designed the horse myself, gave the image to the artist, and the result is our combined effort. The coyote, the same...but I took from what the artist had available and asked him to customize it for me.
It'd be lying if I said it wasn't idolatry. And I have lied about it, partially out of trying to fool myself, partially out of trying to fool others.
In the end, the truth doesn't change.
Old Testament
Anyone familiar with the Old Testament knows the cycle of the Israelites falling away. God does something mighty (such as leading them out of bondage), they fall away, and then when they get bored, they create idols. And when they are combined (as in the book of Judges) with other peoples, they disregard God and they follow other gods. Until a Judge is raised up who finds the Law, and interceeds for the people, and then they repent, and follow the Lord, until some other shiny object comes along.
The Bible is a very human book, and we can all see ourselves and our cultures mirrored in it. If you are one of those who think you and your culture are aloof...then you're one of those who isn't getting the message. Read it again.
Hosea is the book that first reveals the spousal relationship of God to His People. It's extremely shocking, as are many of the prophetic books that use sexual imagery. God tells Hosea to take a whore as his wife, and the children (all of questionable parentage) are given names such as "Not Mine" and "Not Pitied", to represent the people of Israel...the chosen people, who are supposed to be the spouse of God, but have left Him for the more attractive ideal of complete debasement. This book draws a correlation between adultery and idolatry; for idolatry is nothing other than spiritual adultery.
In reading the Old Testament, I am convicted. I am both an adulterer and an idolator.
I merit NOTHING but death.
I am Hosea's wife, Gomer.
A couple weeks or so ago, I came across a video of Fr. Barron and his review of the Mel Gibson movie "Apocalypto." I saw this movie when it came out on DVD, and, upon Fr. Barron's review, was inspired to see it again. I had purchased it because of my interest in the ancient cultures and religions of Mexico specifically (having been there, having stood at the top of the Temple of the Sun in Teotihuacan, having been to Monte Alban near Oaxaca - and having given a speech on the the artifacts in Tomb 7, and having walked the ruins of Tenochtitlan in the Zocalo of Mexico City.)
I've read the book "Aztec" by Gary Jennings, and found, even with the literary license, to be very accurate in terms of the setting and culture...and much of the religion, attitudes at the time, etc. In fact, they are not that much different than the current American culture; except that religion isn't what guides our human sacrifices these days.
Sad to say, for a long time I harbored a great deal of resentment towards the Spaniards as a result of my indoctrination, and only now am I able to shed these vestiges of propaganda and look at Mexico through Catholic eyes, through rational eyes, not those of the writers of History who contained their own secular anti-Christian biases within the sale of their works.
Ancient Israel
I wish I could distance myself from the idolatrous people of Israel of ancient times. I wish I could stand aloof and say I would NEVER engage in their idolatry. In the descriptions of the women of Jerusalem, they were well-adorned in their wealth, they took their offerings to the goddess Ashtarte, the Queen of Heaven, among others, and engaged in fertility rituals to her, which was really temple prostitution. Baal was one of the most prominent Old Testament gods, for he makes his appearance in Deuteronomy, 2 Kings, and Isaiah, among others if I am not mistaken.
In Isaiah, God makes it very clear what He means by "filth", for it does not match the human understanding of the term. In His chastizement, He alludes to the perfumes and the jewels, the accountrements of the women as "filth", claiming He will cleanse them of this in His punishment for their idolatry.
For indeed, the chosen people had given obesience and had desecrated the Temple through their worship of foreign gods.
I am no different
As much as I've thought that I would not be like that...as much as I have thought, through my own Pride, that I would not give in to such worship of foreign gods and goddesses....I would.
I am Israel. I am daughter Jerusalem. I am condemned.
Tonight, in watching the movie, I found myself wanting to pray with the women crossing the river, "Tender mother of mercy, help us!"
Even as my understanding of "Mother of Mercy, Mater Miseriacordie" is different than their goddess, it is similar enough. If I were with them, even with my beliefs, I would find myself joining my beliefs with theirs. I might be strong in my resistance at first, but then, give in to the culture around me. The differences, especially under pressure, may seem subtle.
It's easy, when we're surrounded by people who believe as we do, to say we'd resist the beliefs of a different culture.
But tonight, even in watching a movie, I realized how easy it would be for me to be caught up in their pagan beliefs, in their demonic beliefs. I understood how simple it would be to forget that there is only One God, and instead, adopt the gods of the dominant government. If I had been a sacrificial victim to Kulkulkan, or the war god of the Aztecs, Huitzilopotchtli, who knows? Perhaps I would find myself praying to that demon en route to my demise.
I found that it was easy for me to adopt the ideas of these dieties, and felt myself drawn in to them, such that, with the characters, I could have been pulled into their worship. There is a certain romance about the idea of Jaguar as a protecting diety. There is a seductiveness in the pantheon of the Mayans and the Aztecs....a god for every occasion.
Such is the life of someone who has left behind New Age and the occult...which accepts all of these premises, rejecting only Truth.
I've learned my temptations, but they caught me by surprise tonight as I found myself trying not to "pray" to mythical dieties. It would be so easy to repeat their names. It would be so easy to fall into their practices of everyday life. It would be so easy to make an "offering".
I am Gomer. You can read about me in the book of Hosea.
The only difference is this: Gomer didn't know who she was, or the lesson being learned through her. I do. And I have chosen this path anyway.
Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Many of my friends know that I have two tattoos....one of a coyote, the other of a horse. I designed the horse myself, gave the image to the artist, and the result is our combined effort. The coyote, the same...but I took from what the artist had available and asked him to customize it for me.
It'd be lying if I said it wasn't idolatry. And I have lied about it, partially out of trying to fool myself, partially out of trying to fool others.
In the end, the truth doesn't change.
Old Testament
Anyone familiar with the Old Testament knows the cycle of the Israelites falling away. God does something mighty (such as leading them out of bondage), they fall away, and then when they get bored, they create idols. And when they are combined (as in the book of Judges) with other peoples, they disregard God and they follow other gods. Until a Judge is raised up who finds the Law, and interceeds for the people, and then they repent, and follow the Lord, until some other shiny object comes along.
The Bible is a very human book, and we can all see ourselves and our cultures mirrored in it. If you are one of those who think you and your culture are aloof...then you're one of those who isn't getting the message. Read it again.
Hosea is the book that first reveals the spousal relationship of God to His People. It's extremely shocking, as are many of the prophetic books that use sexual imagery. God tells Hosea to take a whore as his wife, and the children (all of questionable parentage) are given names such as "Not Mine" and "Not Pitied", to represent the people of Israel...the chosen people, who are supposed to be the spouse of God, but have left Him for the more attractive ideal of complete debasement. This book draws a correlation between adultery and idolatry; for idolatry is nothing other than spiritual adultery.
In reading the Old Testament, I am convicted. I am both an adulterer and an idolator.
I merit NOTHING but death.
I am Hosea's wife, Gomer.
A couple weeks or so ago, I came across a video of Fr. Barron and his review of the Mel Gibson movie "Apocalypto." I saw this movie when it came out on DVD, and, upon Fr. Barron's review, was inspired to see it again. I had purchased it because of my interest in the ancient cultures and religions of Mexico specifically (having been there, having stood at the top of the Temple of the Sun in Teotihuacan, having been to Monte Alban near Oaxaca - and having given a speech on the the artifacts in Tomb 7, and having walked the ruins of Tenochtitlan in the Zocalo of Mexico City.)
I've read the book "Aztec" by Gary Jennings, and found, even with the literary license, to be very accurate in terms of the setting and culture...and much of the religion, attitudes at the time, etc. In fact, they are not that much different than the current American culture; except that religion isn't what guides our human sacrifices these days.
Sad to say, for a long time I harbored a great deal of resentment towards the Spaniards as a result of my indoctrination, and only now am I able to shed these vestiges of propaganda and look at Mexico through Catholic eyes, through rational eyes, not those of the writers of History who contained their own secular anti-Christian biases within the sale of their works.
Ancient Israel
I wish I could distance myself from the idolatrous people of Israel of ancient times. I wish I could stand aloof and say I would NEVER engage in their idolatry. In the descriptions of the women of Jerusalem, they were well-adorned in their wealth, they took their offerings to the goddess Ashtarte, the Queen of Heaven, among others, and engaged in fertility rituals to her, which was really temple prostitution. Baal was one of the most prominent Old Testament gods, for he makes his appearance in Deuteronomy, 2 Kings, and Isaiah, among others if I am not mistaken.
In Isaiah, God makes it very clear what He means by "filth", for it does not match the human understanding of the term. In His chastizement, He alludes to the perfumes and the jewels, the accountrements of the women as "filth", claiming He will cleanse them of this in His punishment for their idolatry.
For indeed, the chosen people had given obesience and had desecrated the Temple through their worship of foreign gods.
I am no different
As much as I've thought that I would not be like that...as much as I have thought, through my own Pride, that I would not give in to such worship of foreign gods and goddesses....I would.
I am Israel. I am daughter Jerusalem. I am condemned.
Tonight, in watching the movie, I found myself wanting to pray with the women crossing the river, "Tender mother of mercy, help us!"
Even as my understanding of "Mother of Mercy, Mater Miseriacordie" is different than their goddess, it is similar enough. If I were with them, even with my beliefs, I would find myself joining my beliefs with theirs. I might be strong in my resistance at first, but then, give in to the culture around me. The differences, especially under pressure, may seem subtle.
It's easy, when we're surrounded by people who believe as we do, to say we'd resist the beliefs of a different culture.
But tonight, even in watching a movie, I realized how easy it would be for me to be caught up in their pagan beliefs, in their demonic beliefs. I understood how simple it would be to forget that there is only One God, and instead, adopt the gods of the dominant government. If I had been a sacrificial victim to Kulkulkan, or the war god of the Aztecs, Huitzilopotchtli, who knows? Perhaps I would find myself praying to that demon en route to my demise.
I found that it was easy for me to adopt the ideas of these dieties, and felt myself drawn in to them, such that, with the characters, I could have been pulled into their worship. There is a certain romance about the idea of Jaguar as a protecting diety. There is a seductiveness in the pantheon of the Mayans and the Aztecs....a god for every occasion.
Such is the life of someone who has left behind New Age and the occult...which accepts all of these premises, rejecting only Truth.
I've learned my temptations, but they caught me by surprise tonight as I found myself trying not to "pray" to mythical dieties. It would be so easy to repeat their names. It would be so easy to fall into their practices of everyday life. It would be so easy to make an "offering".
I am Gomer. You can read about me in the book of Hosea.
The only difference is this: Gomer didn't know who she was, or the lesson being learned through her. I do. And I have chosen this path anyway.
Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.
When We Have Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil
Several years ago, I had a boyfriend who firmly believed he would not live past the age of 45. He was very matter-of-fact about this belief, basing it on his family history; neither his grandfather nor his father lived longer than that age. He may have lost other male relatives in their 40's as well, from heart disease or other things. It seemed a fatalistic attitude to me, for even though I wasn't practicing my faith, I did still believe in God and knew that our ends (as well as our beginnings!) were completely dependent upon Him. While I understood my boyfriend's attitude, I didn't understand how he could be so resigned to the idea.
If I'd had such certainty, I thought, my life would be different.
Now, years later, it IS greatly different, and oddly, I'm getting the same sense as that old boyfriend.
I have this sense that I'm not meant to live to old age. It's an odd feeling, on one hand seeming quite fatalistic, but on the other hand, there's a certain hope. And yet...terror. Because my life is not in order. I've long felt "out of place" on this earth, and I've written of this many times, now knowing that it is a true sense, for we are all pilgrims, and this is NOT our home.
So it is natural, as we come to know and love God more, we want to be with Him, and not trudging along in this fallen world. The constant battle wears on us all.
I do think this sense that I'm not long for this world is just another part of this "pilgrimage" on earth, and perhaps will help me to work harder to erase those obstacles in my life that keep me from God. We will all be called to account, we know not the day or the hour, and it's never too early to work on holiness.
I have no way of knowing if this eerie sense of "impending doom" is just a passing phase to jumpstart my Advent penance, or if in fact, I'll be heading Home sooner than expected.
Life is such a gift, and while I recognize that more and more, I'm also finding myself desiring to reach the end for the even greater treasure of eternal union with God.
Advent is truly a time to look at our lives, to recognize that God can call us at any time. It is a time of watching and waiting, knowing Our Lord is coming, remembering His birth at Bethelehem, but looking forward to seeing Him again.
Ultimately the question that should define this time of year is this: Will we be ready when He comes?
*
If I'd had such certainty, I thought, my life would be different.
Now, years later, it IS greatly different, and oddly, I'm getting the same sense as that old boyfriend.
I have this sense that I'm not meant to live to old age. It's an odd feeling, on one hand seeming quite fatalistic, but on the other hand, there's a certain hope. And yet...terror. Because my life is not in order. I've long felt "out of place" on this earth, and I've written of this many times, now knowing that it is a true sense, for we are all pilgrims, and this is NOT our home.
So it is natural, as we come to know and love God more, we want to be with Him, and not trudging along in this fallen world. The constant battle wears on us all.
I do think this sense that I'm not long for this world is just another part of this "pilgrimage" on earth, and perhaps will help me to work harder to erase those obstacles in my life that keep me from God. We will all be called to account, we know not the day or the hour, and it's never too early to work on holiness.
I have no way of knowing if this eerie sense of "impending doom" is just a passing phase to jumpstart my Advent penance, or if in fact, I'll be heading Home sooner than expected.
Life is such a gift, and while I recognize that more and more, I'm also finding myself desiring to reach the end for the even greater treasure of eternal union with God.
Advent is truly a time to look at our lives, to recognize that God can call us at any time. It is a time of watching and waiting, knowing Our Lord is coming, remembering His birth at Bethelehem, but looking forward to seeing Him again.
Ultimately the question that should define this time of year is this: Will we be ready when He comes?
*
Monday, December 01, 2008
:-(
It's cold out, there's a dusting of snow on the ground (in my neighborhood), and there's an upside-down frownie-face in the sky.
I'm not sure if that's more indicative of God's sense of humor or His sense of irony.
In any case, 'nuff said.
I'm not sure if that's more indicative of God's sense of humor or His sense of irony.
In any case, 'nuff said.
Mass at St. Agnes in the Extraordinary Form
On Sunday, it was my pleasure to meet Christine, the author of Chris & Co, and who clearly has more information to present on this Mass. Please visit her blog and check out her own narrative and photos...which will also be making an appearance here!
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