Church of the Masses
There is much to admire at Ms. Nicolosi's blog. Reading very carefully, I found this particularly refreshing:
A Note to Visitors: Please share your comments! Note, however, that civility is considered a higher good than First Amendment rights here. Incivility will be uncivilly suppressed. Welcome to Our Kingdom! Enjoy your stay.
To be fearfully unoriginal: "O Frabjous day, Calloo, Callay, he chortled in his joy."
An Urgent Request For Prayers
I know, I'm always begging. But please pray for me and my family at this time.
All My Words Are Straw
I am endlessly fascinated by this statement of one of the great scholars, intellectual leaders, and saints of the Catholic Church. And if the statement holds any truth at all for St. Thomas Aquinas, how much more true must it be for all the rest of us? I think about the energy poured out in blogging and in writing of all sorts and I wonder whether this expenditure is worthwhile. The first question must always be, "Does it serve God?"
I think St. Thomas, enraptured by the vision granted him by God, came to value his work as a human work--as nothing in the light of Glory. But somehow, I do not think God so values it and so too with our feeble efforts. Just as with every page of bug-eyed frog-people, I treasure and value the art work and the attempts of my beautiful son to express himself, so I believe God values each of our attempts to give Him glory no matter how feeble, distorting, and incomplete. When I'm led to wonder whether it is worth continuing to write and to say things, I look at the refrigerator or at the wall of my cubicle at work and say--yes, it is, isn't it?
Prayer Requests
Please continue prayers for Dylan--he will need them for some time to come.
A Review of Life of Pi
is available at Catholic Bookshelf
For Those Wishing to Know More About Maria de Mattias
Fr. Keyes C.PP. S. has devoted much of his blog the last few weeks to the canonizations that occurred recently. Among those canonized was Maria de Mattias--seemingly she is largely left out of the reporting about the event. Fr. Keyes's enthusiasm inspired me to look around for more about the saint. Here's one article the fruit of my present search. Here are the propers for celebrating her feast day (once again courtesy of Fr. Keyes). And here's another somewhat simpler, more condensed life of/spirituality of. Enjoy. I'll post a larger list later if I find more material. And thanks to Fr. Keyes.
A Blog that Cannot Be Recommended Enough
Christus Victor gives us this magnificent quote from a dying friend, "Everything this side of Hell is Grace." Christine, if you ever stop by here--thank you so much for all that you do on your blog--it is an inspiration and "Something Beautiful for God."
From Quenta Narwenion
A link to a new blogger with a most remarkable and worthwhile name Gaudete semper. Something we could all do with a reminder of from time to time.
You Know Your Decision Wasn't a Complete Failure When. . .
Glimpses of Samuel's Last Day of School
(1)
Getting ready in the morning--always an ordeal--mom is cranky, dad is only semi-conscious (a state maintained until about noon) and Samuel vivacious and ready to go. Mom says to Samuel, "You're really making me angry. You should be doing this yourself," referring to putting on his socks. Samuel replies, "When you let anger live in your heart, you have committed murder, mommy. You should not kill."
(2)
In the classroom, the teacher is reviewing the year. She asks each student what was their favorite thing in school. We get all manner of answers: recess, writing, little books, the ten commandments. Samuel's turn comes and he responds, "Chapel." Now, if only I can get a similar enthusiasm for Mass. (Though on this point, I must admit that if he thinks I'm going to Mass alone--a very rare event--he begs, pleads and does everything he can to go. He even ended up attending both Holy Thursday and Good Friday services and was wonderful for both.)
(3)
The teacher in the last "program" of the year speaks to the parents, "At this age, if they learn their phonics, fine. If they learn their numbers, that's great too. But if they don't, they'll get that in kindergarten--it's what kindergarten is for. My job as a teacher is to help them learn to love and obey God. I told the teachers at the upper grades that I was going to teach the ten commandments, and they laughed at me, 'They're only four.' But they can do it, and they can understand it."
(4)
Just after these remarks she leads a "little catechism." Samuel is holding a card with the number 1 on it. When she comes to him he pipes up with "Love God most of all." Yes, he does get it.
(5)
At home later that evening, Samuel says, "We must love God first and most. He doesn't like us to be mean to each other."
(6)
At prayers after the usual intercessions of thanksgiving for "our school; our day; mommies, daddies, and babies" Samuel adds an intention, "And God please help Xxxx (a classmate who has some anger management problems) to be good and nice and to not have his problems."
Yes, it surely seems that God led us in the right direction and, for a change, we actually listened. Praise Him!
From the Gospel of John
I have been thinking about a passage from the Gospel of John every since "Good Shepherd" Sunday. Immediately after that Sunday there seemed to be a number of reflection at various places in the Parish, but none of them touched upon the single sentence that I found incredibly intriguing.
John 10:16 I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.
I find this interesting because while Jesus says that they will hear his voice (and thus presumably know it) He makes no indication that they will know His name. Who are these other sheep?
Are they perhaps those who know of Jesus through the majesty of the book of nature and thus hear his voice but do not know his name? Are they those that Paul refers to who, "know not the law, but live the law in their hearts and are saved by it?" I don't know. But I derive a great deal of comfort from the thought that there are other sheep not of the fold, and that Jesus gathers them all in.
Speaking of Wonderlands
One would do oneself a favor if one were to hie oneself over to Disputations and read ALL of the more recent posts. Mr. Da Fiesole is on a roll, and a most wonderful and grace-filled roll (not a Parker House or Crescent) it is. Seriously, he has some wonderful reflections on atonement, on the Catholic Worker movement and other items of interest. Thanks Mr. da Fiesole, and bless you for your work.
Literary Wonderland
Ms. Lee Ann notifies me that her residence is that Mecca of Literacy--Birmingham, Alabama. Well, one knows that there's trouble when one longs for the relative literary richness of Birmingham. Perhaps I need to get out more.
Prayers and Other Spiritual Works of Mercy Required
Dylan is in particular need of our prayers and more. For those who are capable, it might be good to offer a fast day for his health, recovery, and situation. Please remember him at mass, at morning and evening prayer, at whatever regularly observed or irregular prayers in which you may engage. I have conveyed to him already the profound good wishes and greetings from many members of St. Blog's. Once again, he needs our continuous outpouring of prayer.
Reviews of Ron Brown
Angels and Demons and The DaVinci Code available this day at Catholic Bookshelf.
Silence
There is an especial irony in writing about silence. Surely anything said is counter to the movement itself. And yet, much needs to be said because so little of it is experienced. But what can be said of it that would entice one to experience it? Nothing.
Nada, nada, nada, nada, nada, nada, nada, nada, nada
Familiar?
Break away from the blog. Close your eyes--turn off whatever other distracting device is entertaining you and devote your entire self for just one minute to single-tasking. It may take a superhuman effort. But one minute of sitting quietly.
Now, try again. One minute of sitting silently, beside you the greatest friend and companion of your life, the sole Meaning of existence, the Sweetness of Life, the Lord of All. He's asked you to spend a moment with Him, not chattering about all your mutual acquaintances or all the preoccupations of your mind. Just a moment enjoying what is--silently.
Silence is more than quiet. In fact, if silence is only quiet, then it is not the silence we seek. Silence might be best described as companionable quiet. Quiet with Someone who means much and who Loves much.
Silence can only be understood by undertaking. And it can only be undertaken by the grace of God. The Eucharist is the doorway into Silence in which all that is worth hearing is heard, all that is worth seeing is seen, and all that is worth doing has its inception.
Silence is a special gift to individuals within the Church, and their grace is to spread the gift to all about them. Silence starts with one and it grows, encompassing the many--not in sterile quiet, but in loving certitude.
Remember Margaret Drabble's Vitriol?
Well now here's a response, an excerpt of which follows:
from an article by Barbara AmielCountering the arguments Drabble advanced to justify her pathology is easy. The lady is a fine fiction writer, but when it comes to facts or ratiocination, she should be put in care. The sight of the faces painted on the noses of American planes bombing Iraq led her to the conclusion that "a nation that can paint those faces on death machines must be insane".
There are 26,000 entries alone on the first search engine I went to on the web for "nose art", which is what aviation art is called. It appears to have been first used by the Italians in 1913, but its golden age was the Second World War, when the Germans and British, as well as Americans, used it to keep up morale.
The key to understanding Drabble's lunatic rant is her reaction to what she says she saw on CNN celebrating the 25th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam war. She describes an old, shabbily dressed Vietnamese man bartering for dollars. The horror of this moment - an "elderly, impoverished" Vietnamese man wanting that terrible currency, American dollars, for heaven's sake - just put the lid on it for Drabble. She writes: "The Vietnamese had won the war, but had lost the peace."
Well no, Miss Drabble. The Vietnamese fought the war for communism and they won communism. That, indeed, is why the old man is impoverished, shabbily dressed and bartering for dollars. In your deliberate obtuseness, you become blind to the most self-evident conclusions and an apologist for the appalling regimes that are so far removed from your ostensible values.
Judge William Young on Richard Reid
I was made aware of this remarkable little speech by an e-mail. After vetting it and reading the trial transcript, I place it here for everyone's attention. With all that I have said in recent days impugning a really very fine judicial system, this is a small way to make amends--and these words deserve to be remembered. For the time being the entire transcript is available here.
from The Sentencing Hearing of Richard ReidThis is the sentence that is provided for by our statutes. It is a fair and a just sentence. It is a righteous sentence. Let me explain this to you.
We are not afraid of any of your terrorist co-conspirators, Mr. Reid. We are Americans. We have been through the fire before. There is all too much war talk here. And I say that to everyone with the utmost respect.
Here in this court where we deal with individuals as individuals, and care for individuals as individuals, as human beings we reach out for justice.
You are not an enemy combatant. You are a terrorist. You are not a soldier in any war. You are a terrorist. To give you that reference, to call you a soldier gives you far too much stature. Whether it is the officers of government who do it or your attorney who does it, or that happens to be your view, you are a terrorist.
And we do not negotiate with terrorists. We do not treat with terrorists. We do not sign documents with terrorists.
We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice.
So war talk is way out of line in this court. You're a big fellow. But you're not that big. You're no warrior. I know warriors. You are a terrorist. A species of criminal guilty of multiple attempted murders.
In a very real sense Trooper Santiago had it right when first you were taken off that plane and into custody and you wondered where the press and where the TV crews were and you said you're no big deal. You're no big deal.
What your counsel, what your able counsel and what the equally able United States attorneys have grappled with and what I have as honestly as I know how tried to grapple with, is why you did something so horrific. What was it that led you here to this courtroom today? I have listened respectfully to what you have to say. And I ask you to search your heart and ask yourself what sort of unfathomable hate led you to do what you are guilty and admit you are guilty of doing.
And I have an answer for you. It may not satisfy you. But as I search this entire record it comes as close to understanding as I know.
It seems to me you hate the one thing that to us is most precious. You hate our freedom. Our individual freedom. Our individual freedom to live as we choose, to come and go as we choose, to believe or not believe as we individually choose.
Here, in this society, the very winds carry freedom. They carry it everywhere from sea to shining sea. It is because we prize individual freedom so much that you are here in this beautiful courtroom. So that everyone can see, truly see that justice is administered fairly, individually, and discretely.
It is for freedom's seek that your lawyers are striving so vigorously on your behalf and have filed appeals, will go on in their, their representation of you before other judges. We care about it. Because we all know that the way we treat you, Mr. Reid, is the measure of our own liberties.
Make no mistake though. It is yet true that we will bear any burden; pay any price, to preserve our freedoms.
Look around this courtroom. Mark it well. The world is not going to long remember what you or I say here. Day after tomorrow it will be forgotten. But this, however, will long endure. Here, in this courtroom, and courtrooms all across America, the American people will gather to see that justice, individual justice, justice, not war, individual justice is in fact being done.
The very President of the United States through his officers will have to come into courtrooms and lay out evidence on which specific matters can be judged, and juries of citizens will gather to sit and judge that evidence democratically, to mold and shape and refine our sense of justice.
See that flag, Mr. Reid? That's the flag of the United States of America. That flag will fly there long after this is all forgotten. That flag still stands for freedom. You know it always will. Custody, Mr. Officer. Stand him down.
A Rationale upon the Book of Common Prayer
Another wonderful offering via Project Canterbury--Anthony Sparrow's--Rationale. A wonderful reference and reminder even for those of us who do not use the Book of Common Prayer.
Small Annoyances and Great Mercies
Reading the blogmeister at The Literarium is occasionally a painful temptation to envy or some such sin. Apparently Ms. Morawski lives in a part of the country in which literacy is both alive and prized. I am dubious about my own part of the world sometimes. Other than the huge chain bookstores there are relatively few resources for the avid reader.
I used to live in Columbus, Ohio, and near the condominiums we occupied there was a huge supermarket of used books called "Half-Price Books." And indeed, most of the books were available for half of the cover price. In the region of the world I presently live (dominated by one large mouse) I have yet to see a used book store of any size whatsoever. Moreover, I have yet to see very many small boutique bookstores. Yes, I know the huge chains do tend to drive them into the ground--one of the strongest arguments for distributivism I am aware of.
I long for the times I could traverse a few parking lots and wind up at an emporium where I could get perhaps fifteen or twenty books for less than ten dollars. A place where people brought treasures they no longer treasured and I profited from them. More--a place I could take the cartload of books that were unwise purchases for a variety of reasons. I could really do with ready accessiblity to such resources again.
However, the price is far too high. Here I sit between beaches--within ready reach of hundreds of miles of shore on both the east and west coasts. A relatively easy drive from Sanibel Island. A quick hop to Canaveral National Seashore and the wonder of Merritt Island in general. So I have traded easy and inexpensive literacy for the glories of the ocean. Not, overall, a bad trade. I just sometimes wish I could have both.
Weekend Wonders
I have this weekend reacquainted myself with some old friends as I have tried to move from vinyl (yes, I still have piles of it about decomposing) to MP3 (to preserve things no longer available through the record industry). Doing so I have listened once again to the absurd marvels of Camembert Electrique and the Radio Gnome Invisible trilogy, The Strawbs Hero and Heroine, Camel Snow Goose, Reichmann Wunderbar, Jade Warrior, Darryl Way's Wolf, Curved Air--including such wonderful bits as UltraVivaldi and the entire Phantasmagoria, Heldon 7 Les Soucoupes Volants Vertes, Aphrodite's Child, Christian Vander's Magma, particularly Attahk (what can you say about a guy who invented an entirely new language to sing in, and a particular favorite, The Residents Eskimo and Fingerprince being favorites.
Very likely this is of minimal interest to anyone. And in case you wonder, my success in creating MP3s has been quite limited. I don't know what to do about it because many of these things are no longer in print, no longer available. The vinyl continues its long, slow decline, and I fear the time when record players are so rare that it is impossible to find needles for them.