JMJ. What do YOU think of when you hear the word "miracle?" Usually I think of big, splashy extravaganzas, a la Cecil B. DeMille. You know the kind--Moses sticks up his two arms and the sea flees from him and ultimately ends up drowning the Egyptians following behind in their chariots. Or the miracle of October, 1917 when the sun came down out of the heavens over the small village of Fatima, Portugal presaging the arrival of the Blessed Mother of God. Or even the time this poor man got hung up on a cross beam of a tree and appeared again alive, three days after His documented death. You know, big, in-your-face type events.
Sometimes, though, they come to us in small, bite-size, out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye happenings, kind of like the caress of the wind on your cheek. The birth of a child is of this kind although a good bit noisier. This latter type is what happened just recently in my home-town, Berea. I've mentioned before the religous goods store, Tilma, where the Blessed Mother whispered that Her Son was knocking at the door to my heart. I owe my faith to this store and its proprietess who staffs Tilma, taking no salary. She is paid in the small kisses on the cheek our Lord gives her occasionally to let her, and all of us Tilma groupies, know that He's alive and well, working in our community.
Well, to make a long story even longer, the economy has not been kind to the religious goods sector. Tilma was in imminent danger of closing its doors completely at the end of this last month and there was no discernible answer to the economic dilemma. Jan Marie was confiding this to me one day and the only answer we could see was to pray as we've never prayed before. A lady who was shopping (and over-heard the conversation) agreed with us and also was distressed at the bleak imminence of Tilma's closing. Once she left she drafted a letter with all pertinent information, circulated it to all her friends, and suggested that if they loved Tilma they would do the same thing--pray, shop, contribute, and pass the word.
I took the problem to all the saints I'm particularly attached to and Jan Marie took her prayers to the Infant of Prague. Or rather, to His antique porcelain statue. The figure needed, in the high four-figure range, was written on a small piece of paper and placed under the statue. Shoot, you've already guessed the outcome. Sales increased dramatically, folks were becoming militant, and we even received a donation from a professional person in a small, rural town in Ohio that no one knew anything of. Both person and town! Within three weeks Tilma was out of the woods and out of debt! A small miracle, but an important one, we think. Tilma (Our Lady's Store in Berea) will continue with its out-reach apostolates and will continue, through the grace of God, to evangelise to all. Deo gratias!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
"A Must-Read"
JMJ. I should have posted this a few weeks ago but then, I put the "pro" in procrastination. If nothing else you'd have a great idea for a Christmas gift made to keep giving and giving. (Sounds like the flu, doesn't it?) Actually, I'm writing about the book by Archbishop Chas. Chaput of the Archdiocese of Denver, entitled Render Unto Caesar. I finished it about a month ago and managed to do so, reading sporadically, in less than a week.
Although it's a call to arms to the laity, bidding them vote carefully, it is even more a call to militancy on behalf of the things that are God's. We need to hear this and need to hear it forcefully. Christ told the Pharisees to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's and unto God the things which are God's. Americans in particular and most Christians around the world in general have the first part down pat. It's the second part that's the stickler. That's the tough part.
I think the reason for the difficulty is two-fold. Either we don't know what is actually God's and how to render it unto Him, or we do but have convinced ourselves that we don't need to do it or that we can render it as suits us. Americans are justly proud of our democracy but in religous matters we automatically assume that that same democracy ought to apply there, too. It doesn't. Our Church is a monarchy with Jesus Christ as our King and the Holy Father, the Pope, as His regent or prime minister.
God managed to create the heavens and earth without our help and I seriously doubt that He needs our suggestions as to how best to run it. We poor humans just can't help kibitzing, though. If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me (or in times past, I said to myself), "I don't think" or "I think that" or "It's my opinion", I'd never have to work another day in my life. That's a sign that we think that we know better than the Almighty. We don't. Archbishop Chaput disabuses us of this notion, does it well and charitably, and then shows us how to be Catholics obedient to the will of God. PLEASE pick up and read his book. Then e-mail him at his archiocesan web-site. He really does answer his own e-mail.
Although it's a call to arms to the laity, bidding them vote carefully, it is even more a call to militancy on behalf of the things that are God's. We need to hear this and need to hear it forcefully. Christ told the Pharisees to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's and unto God the things which are God's. Americans in particular and most Christians around the world in general have the first part down pat. It's the second part that's the stickler. That's the tough part.
I think the reason for the difficulty is two-fold. Either we don't know what is actually God's and how to render it unto Him, or we do but have convinced ourselves that we don't need to do it or that we can render it as suits us. Americans are justly proud of our democracy but in religous matters we automatically assume that that same democracy ought to apply there, too. It doesn't. Our Church is a monarchy with Jesus Christ as our King and the Holy Father, the Pope, as His regent or prime minister.
God managed to create the heavens and earth without our help and I seriously doubt that He needs our suggestions as to how best to run it. We poor humans just can't help kibitzing, though. If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me (or in times past, I said to myself), "I don't think" or "I think that" or "It's my opinion", I'd never have to work another day in my life. That's a sign that we think that we know better than the Almighty. We don't. Archbishop Chaput disabuses us of this notion, does it well and charitably, and then shows us how to be Catholics obedient to the will of God. PLEASE pick up and read his book. Then e-mail him at his archiocesan web-site. He really does answer his own e-mail.
Friday, December 3, 2010
"Politics NOT As Usual"
JMJ. If the last election did one thing, it pointed out the growing polarisation between the Republicrat and Democan parties. Ok, poor joke, but if one thing has become glaringly evident in American politics, it is that veniality is non-partisan. Folks get up on their soap boxes and accuse each other of accepting bribes or not working hard enough for the poor or debate the best way to fleece the middle class (who ultimately pay for everything anyway.)
American politics consists of one party achieving power and instituting its ruinous schemes while the losers rail and chastise that only they can reverse those boners. When the time comes and the electorate throws the bums out, the new in's leave things just the way they were and pass their OWN ruinous schemes that just make the whole mess worse.
Why vote for one party rather than the other then? Simple. The only program that makes a hill of beans'-worth of difference is the Culture of Life. The only person worth electing is the one who will protect the unborn, work to reverse Roe vs. Wade, vote against gay marriage and fetal stem cell research, and in short, do his or her best to serve our God. We are in His hands and we will be judged by how well we listen to Him and do His will. Nothing else matters. Once we are all on the same page, THEN we can worry about those pesky illegal aliens or the obscenely wealthy rich folks. I have a feeling we'll be waiting a long, long time.
American politics consists of one party achieving power and instituting its ruinous schemes while the losers rail and chastise that only they can reverse those boners. When the time comes and the electorate throws the bums out, the new in's leave things just the way they were and pass their OWN ruinous schemes that just make the whole mess worse.
Why vote for one party rather than the other then? Simple. The only program that makes a hill of beans'-worth of difference is the Culture of Life. The only person worth electing is the one who will protect the unborn, work to reverse Roe vs. Wade, vote against gay marriage and fetal stem cell research, and in short, do his or her best to serve our God. We are in His hands and we will be judged by how well we listen to Him and do His will. Nothing else matters. Once we are all on the same page, THEN we can worry about those pesky illegal aliens or the obscenely wealthy rich folks. I have a feeling we'll be waiting a long, long time.
Monday, November 15, 2010
"A Little Peck on the Cheek"
JMJ. I may have mentioned this before and if I have, please overlook my poor memory, but my friend Charlie has a concept he calls God's little peck on the cheek. I don't know if he thought it up all by himself but it refers to the fact that one's prayer life is not all sweetness and light. It is full of long periods of dryness when it seems that we're just praying to a deaf wall. We're not, of course, but it's oftentimes hard to keep this in mind. God DOES always hears prayers even if He doesn't always act on them or act on them the way we know He should.
What He DOES do is give us a little peck, just to let us know that He's there watching out for us and listening to us intently. I got one of these on the last First Friday at Tilma, my hang-out away from home. I was sitting talking to Jan Marie, the owner, when who should walk throught the door but my favourite pastor, Fr. B. And he had a bourse around his neck signifying that he bore the Blessed Sacrament. He owned that he was distributing Holy Communion to his parish's shut-ins for their First Friday devotion. (Now I ask you--how many priests are concerned with this devotion nowadays and of those, how many would personally deliver Communion? You see why he's my favourite priest.)
Anyway. I have often doubted my true acceptance and awareness of Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament. I mean I accept it and I profess it, but I'm not always sure if I've internalised it. Jan and I continued our conversation after greeting our Lord and Fr. B. and it was then I got my little peck on the cheek--I realised that the Person Jan and I were talking about was truly in our midst, listening to our conversation and hopefully approving what was said. It was an absolutely awesome feeling and a peck that I will always cherish. One more self-doubt expunged. Thanks, Lord.
What He DOES do is give us a little peck, just to let us know that He's there watching out for us and listening to us intently. I got one of these on the last First Friday at Tilma, my hang-out away from home. I was sitting talking to Jan Marie, the owner, when who should walk throught the door but my favourite pastor, Fr. B. And he had a bourse around his neck signifying that he bore the Blessed Sacrament. He owned that he was distributing Holy Communion to his parish's shut-ins for their First Friday devotion. (Now I ask you--how many priests are concerned with this devotion nowadays and of those, how many would personally deliver Communion? You see why he's my favourite priest.)
Anyway. I have often doubted my true acceptance and awareness of Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament. I mean I accept it and I profess it, but I'm not always sure if I've internalised it. Jan and I continued our conversation after greeting our Lord and Fr. B. and it was then I got my little peck on the cheek--I realised that the Person Jan and I were talking about was truly in our midst, listening to our conversation and hopefully approving what was said. It was an absolutely awesome feeling and a peck that I will always cherish. One more self-doubt expunged. Thanks, Lord.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
"Misplaced Priorities"
JMJ. A lot of things set my teeth on edge; nowadays more so than ever for some reason. One of the things that's guaranteed to make me see red is the plethora of bumper stickers, ribbon loops, etc. that say "God Bless America" on them. Now I know that these folks are one, being patriotic, and two, acknowledging a belief in God. But they obviously aren't thinking straight. I ask you--why should He? Why should God bless America? What have we done lately, like in the last fifty years or so, to bless Him, to thank Him for His many blessings, to obey Him?
The answer, of course, is "nothing." Or at best, very little. We've cast Him out of our schools, He's no longer welcome around the dinner table, no longer welcome in polite conversation, or politics. We abort the little ones who were to come unto Him, we destroy fetuses in the name of science, we gas His chosen people in concentration camps, we assert that two men or two women constitute a "married couple," and that it's okay to remove the feeding tubes and iv's from our elderly or infirm whom we no longer value as human beings. And we expect Him to BLESS us?
Our political candidates this election year said it was all about the economy or all about jobs, or all about racial respect. It wasn't and it never was. It was all about the dignity and worth of the Culture of Life but it looks like the culture of death is going to come out on top again. God save America 'cause we sure can't do it ourselves!
The answer, of course, is "nothing." Or at best, very little. We've cast Him out of our schools, He's no longer welcome around the dinner table, no longer welcome in polite conversation, or politics. We abort the little ones who were to come unto Him, we destroy fetuses in the name of science, we gas His chosen people in concentration camps, we assert that two men or two women constitute a "married couple," and that it's okay to remove the feeding tubes and iv's from our elderly or infirm whom we no longer value as human beings. And we expect Him to BLESS us?
Our political candidates this election year said it was all about the economy or all about jobs, or all about racial respect. It wasn't and it never was. It was all about the dignity and worth of the Culture of Life but it looks like the culture of death is going to come out on top again. God save America 'cause we sure can't do it ourselves!
Monday, November 1, 2010
"Another One For the Whore of Babylon"
JMJ. That's the favourite epithet for the fundamentalist: "the Catholic church is the Whore of Babylon!" Which neatly brings me to today's topic. If the Church is the Whore of Babylon, why in heaven's name has she produced so many saints? Good question, isn't it? I hadn't thunk of it until I listened to a CD made by (I think) Peter Kreeft. Even the biggest haters of the Church wouldn't think of disparaging St. Augustine or St. Francis or Bl. Mother Teresa.
Well, that's a problem for them to stew over. I've found another. Sunday's gospel reading spot-lit one I hadn't considered before...Zacchaeus. I was just amazed, sitting there in the pew listening to our Fr. Michael talk about the conversion of a notorious sinner. For Zacchaeus was a hugely wealthy tax collector. Now I am not hugely wealthy but I am a poor sinner and I was even worse prior to my conversion. But in both our cases, Zacchaeus' and mine, we could not resist the work of the Holy Ghost.
Zacchaeus was prompted to climb a tree, the better to see this Jesus he'd heard so much about. And I, I was inspired to walk into a little Catholic religious goods store in Berea called "Tilma." And our lives changed. All it took was a little opening, you see. Christ and the Blessed Mother took it from there. Zacchaeus climbed down from the sycamore tree a changed man. I went home clutching a copy of Archbishop Sheen's autobiography a changing man. That's the difference between Zacchaeus and me--becoming a saint is going to take me so much longer (if, by the Grace of God I ever make it at all.) Simon of Cyrene helped Christ carry His cross to Calvary, Zacchaeus gave half of his vast wealth to the poor and paid recompense fourfold for his sins. While I walk forward toward my sanctification looking back all the while at Egypt. All ye holy angels and saints, please pray for me.
Well, that's a problem for them to stew over. I've found another. Sunday's gospel reading spot-lit one I hadn't considered before...Zacchaeus. I was just amazed, sitting there in the pew listening to our Fr. Michael talk about the conversion of a notorious sinner. For Zacchaeus was a hugely wealthy tax collector. Now I am not hugely wealthy but I am a poor sinner and I was even worse prior to my conversion. But in both our cases, Zacchaeus' and mine, we could not resist the work of the Holy Ghost.
Zacchaeus was prompted to climb a tree, the better to see this Jesus he'd heard so much about. And I, I was inspired to walk into a little Catholic religious goods store in Berea called "Tilma." And our lives changed. All it took was a little opening, you see. Christ and the Blessed Mother took it from there. Zacchaeus climbed down from the sycamore tree a changed man. I went home clutching a copy of Archbishop Sheen's autobiography a changing man. That's the difference between Zacchaeus and me--becoming a saint is going to take me so much longer (if, by the Grace of God I ever make it at all.) Simon of Cyrene helped Christ carry His cross to Calvary, Zacchaeus gave half of his vast wealth to the poor and paid recompense fourfold for his sins. While I walk forward toward my sanctification looking back all the while at Egypt. All ye holy angels and saints, please pray for me.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
"How Long Can I Keep This Up?"
JMJ. I admit it. I'm not the most persevering person in the world. My dear wife, to whom I'd been married for a good 25 years at the time, I'm sure, shook her head at my conversion to the Catholic Church and wondered how long this enthusiasm would last. I can't fault her--I wondered, too. I remember thinking, "Lord please don't let this be just another passing fancy."
Well, it's lasted now for over eleven years. And it just keeps getting gooder and gooder. So--I've written about my perpetual Rosary and how it's helped to focus my devotion to the Blessed Mother while relieving me from having to remember which day I should say which mystery on. (I've never been anything if not frugal of my energy, mental or physical.) As part of this on-going theme I've tried something else and it's proving to be a real boon to my prayer life, too.
Before I forget, it's only fair that I give the credit for the idea to my friend, Charlie. And I'm sure he would not hesitate to say that it wasn't original to him but he's such an important part of my spiritual development that I'll always associate it with him. You see, his hot button is the Divine Mercy. He lives and breathes it. He leads its recitation at the hospice he volunteers at, he makes rosaries with beads spelling it, and can't help but pass on this enthusiasm to everyone he meets.
Charlie and I were talking one morning over breakfast at Perkins and he said, "You know, Jim, your mission is converting souls. Have you ever thought of saying the novena for the Divine Mercy from now on instead of just the nine days before the Feast [of the Divine Mercy]?" I allowed as how I hadn't so I decided finally to give it a try. I was gob-smacked when I got to the fourth day and read the introduction: "Today bring to Me the pagans and those who do not yet know Me. I was thinking also of them during My bitter Passion, and their future zeal comforted My Heart."
Someone, sometime had been praying this for ME! Our Lord had foreseen ME! Wow. And as is sometimes said nowadays, I decided to pay it forward. I pray now that the whole world might be converted, not just this one wee part of it. What could be more natural than a perpetual novena to the Divine Mercy and a perpetual Rosary? Won't you join me?
Well, it's lasted now for over eleven years. And it just keeps getting gooder and gooder. So--I've written about my perpetual Rosary and how it's helped to focus my devotion to the Blessed Mother while relieving me from having to remember which day I should say which mystery on. (I've never been anything if not frugal of my energy, mental or physical.) As part of this on-going theme I've tried something else and it's proving to be a real boon to my prayer life, too.
Before I forget, it's only fair that I give the credit for the idea to my friend, Charlie. And I'm sure he would not hesitate to say that it wasn't original to him but he's such an important part of my spiritual development that I'll always associate it with him. You see, his hot button is the Divine Mercy. He lives and breathes it. He leads its recitation at the hospice he volunteers at, he makes rosaries with beads spelling it, and can't help but pass on this enthusiasm to everyone he meets.
Charlie and I were talking one morning over breakfast at Perkins and he said, "You know, Jim, your mission is converting souls. Have you ever thought of saying the novena for the Divine Mercy from now on instead of just the nine days before the Feast [of the Divine Mercy]?" I allowed as how I hadn't so I decided finally to give it a try. I was gob-smacked when I got to the fourth day and read the introduction: "Today bring to Me the pagans and those who do not yet know Me. I was thinking also of them during My bitter Passion, and their future zeal comforted My Heart."
Someone, sometime had been praying this for ME! Our Lord had foreseen ME! Wow. And as is sometimes said nowadays, I decided to pay it forward. I pray now that the whole world might be converted, not just this one wee part of it. What could be more natural than a perpetual novena to the Divine Mercy and a perpetual Rosary? Won't you join me?
Sunday, September 26, 2010
"A New Rosary"
JMJ. Ok, this is just going to be a short screed and no, I'm not in favour of changing our Mother's most favouritest prayer. But I'll tell you one thing for sure. When I became a Catholic it took me a good while to remember the three mysteries and then remember which days they were said on. (Is that good sentence structure? Never mind.)
And then His late Holiness, John Paul II added the luminous mysteries. Talk about throwing a monkey wrench in the works! Back to the old drawing board. And which days do we say which mysteries on now? I know it's not really that big a deal and maybe I'm exaggerating a bit... And then I got the IDEA. Why not just start a rosary and make it never-ending? A perpetual rosary.
So I did it. I had just purchased an MP3 player for listening to music while walking the dog and doing other chores. Put a bunch of good albums on it, put it in the drawer, and haven't used it a lick since then. I started praying the Rosary most any time I had down-time. Driving the car, walking the dog, working in the yard, ad infinitum.
I pray all four mysteries in order and then the finishing prayers and start over. Doesn't matter what day it is, nothing to remember. Ok, it's not usually any more attentive than it ever was--I'm still working hard on that but I get a real bang out of saying to Her, "I beg to continue Thy perpetual Rosary, Blessed Mother." And then I happily pick up where I left off.
And then His late Holiness, John Paul II added the luminous mysteries. Talk about throwing a monkey wrench in the works! Back to the old drawing board. And which days do we say which mysteries on now? I know it's not really that big a deal and maybe I'm exaggerating a bit... And then I got the IDEA. Why not just start a rosary and make it never-ending? A perpetual rosary.
So I did it. I had just purchased an MP3 player for listening to music while walking the dog and doing other chores. Put a bunch of good albums on it, put it in the drawer, and haven't used it a lick since then. I started praying the Rosary most any time I had down-time. Driving the car, walking the dog, working in the yard, ad infinitum.
I pray all four mysteries in order and then the finishing prayers and start over. Doesn't matter what day it is, nothing to remember. Ok, it's not usually any more attentive than it ever was--I'm still working hard on that but I get a real bang out of saying to Her, "I beg to continue Thy perpetual Rosary, Blessed Mother." And then I happily pick up where I left off.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
"The Barque of Peter"
JMJ. Just what makes a Catholic a Catholic? I'll give you a few moments to think about that question. It's not rhetorical, it's totally serious, and at the very basis of all that I will talk about in this entry. Before we get into Scripture, though, let's look at a little history. History is factual.
Christ formed one church two thousand years ago. Like Christ who was visible and tangible, so was that church visible and tangible. He called twelve men to whom He gave all authority on heaven and earth. They in turn ordained others to take their places. The teachings of that holy church are clearly Catholic. One has only to read the writings of the Early Church Fathers to see that those teachings are not remotely Protestant.
A thousand years later, the Orthodox (Eastern) church left the sure protection of the Roman Pontiff. Since that unhappy incident there has been a breaking-away of many nationalistic Orthodox Churches, each with its own governing patriarch. Didn't Jesus will that we be one? Hmmm. Five hundred years later the Roman (Western) church was in need of a house-cleaning. Instead, the Protestant reformers also revolted against the authority of Peter. As a result, we now have some 30,000 separate Protestant denominations--all teaching the truth and all speaking with the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Hmmm. Neat trick, eh?
Which brings me to St. Matthew, specifically Matthew 16: 13-19. The passage is longish so I'll trust you to read it later. Briefly, Jesus asks His disciples who the people think He is. The answers are four-- John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. Think about how amazing this is. Four different interpretations of the sayings and actions of a Man whom they saw face to face for three years! And two thousand years later people pretend to tell us the truth of the Scriptures without an infallible authority.
But Christ left us one. He knew there would be error. The only one of the twelve to declare correctly was Simon. "Blessed are you, Simon bar Jona! For flesh and blood [your own guesses] has not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you you are Peter, [Kepha] and on this rock I will build my church and the powers of death shall not prevail against it. I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."
This seems fairly innocuous but only until you consider that "Rock" is an appellation used in the Old Testament exclusively in reference to God! One human, and one human alone, is identified so closely with God. Later, Jesus is required to pay the Temple tax. He directs Simon to cast for a fish and to take the shekel he will find and pay the tax for both Jesus and himself. Even later, following His resurrection, He Who had described Himself as the Good Shepherd, commanded Peter to feed His sheep. The shepherd's crook had been passed.
No one else in either Testament had been so closely associated with God and the duties of a regent. To answer our initial question then--a Catholic is one who has given himself in total and trusting submission to the living Word of God and refuses to leave the sure protection of the Church's infallible teaching. One who denies the authority of the Vicar of Christ ultimately denies the Saviour Himself. It can't get any simpler than that. Amen.
Christ formed one church two thousand years ago. Like Christ who was visible and tangible, so was that church visible and tangible. He called twelve men to whom He gave all authority on heaven and earth. They in turn ordained others to take their places. The teachings of that holy church are clearly Catholic. One has only to read the writings of the Early Church Fathers to see that those teachings are not remotely Protestant.
A thousand years later, the Orthodox (Eastern) church left the sure protection of the Roman Pontiff. Since that unhappy incident there has been a breaking-away of many nationalistic Orthodox Churches, each with its own governing patriarch. Didn't Jesus will that we be one? Hmmm. Five hundred years later the Roman (Western) church was in need of a house-cleaning. Instead, the Protestant reformers also revolted against the authority of Peter. As a result, we now have some 30,000 separate Protestant denominations--all teaching the truth and all speaking with the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Hmmm. Neat trick, eh?
Which brings me to St. Matthew, specifically Matthew 16: 13-19. The passage is longish so I'll trust you to read it later. Briefly, Jesus asks His disciples who the people think He is. The answers are four-- John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. Think about how amazing this is. Four different interpretations of the sayings and actions of a Man whom they saw face to face for three years! And two thousand years later people pretend to tell us the truth of the Scriptures without an infallible authority.
But Christ left us one. He knew there would be error. The only one of the twelve to declare correctly was Simon. "Blessed are you, Simon bar Jona! For flesh and blood [your own guesses] has not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you you are Peter, [Kepha] and on this rock I will build my church and the powers of death shall not prevail against it. I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."
This seems fairly innocuous but only until you consider that "Rock" is an appellation used in the Old Testament exclusively in reference to God! One human, and one human alone, is identified so closely with God. Later, Jesus is required to pay the Temple tax. He directs Simon to cast for a fish and to take the shekel he will find and pay the tax for both Jesus and himself. Even later, following His resurrection, He Who had described Himself as the Good Shepherd, commanded Peter to feed His sheep. The shepherd's crook had been passed.
No one else in either Testament had been so closely associated with God and the duties of a regent. To answer our initial question then--a Catholic is one who has given himself in total and trusting submission to the living Word of God and refuses to leave the sure protection of the Church's infallible teaching. One who denies the authority of the Vicar of Christ ultimately denies the Saviour Himself. It can't get any simpler than that. Amen.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
"A Confession of Confusion"
JMJ. I confess to being confused. Maybe conflicted is a better word. Yes, conflicted. Bear with me as I try to sort things out because, in so doing, mayhap you, o Reader, will be spared my travail. I am terrified of world-wide Islam. Not just radical Islam, but Islam in general. Liberals try to make a distinction between the religion itself and its fanatic fringe.
I don't think it's possible to do that, though. And that stems from the unassailable fact that the Quran cannot be separated from the culture. Then, too, Islam suffers from the same problem that Protestant Christianity has--no centralised authority. Modern Christians seems to think that the Church Christ left us is a democracy when it is anything but. It is a monarchy with One King, Jesus, and one regent, the Holy Father.
So it is not with Islam. Every imam claims to interpret the Quran for himself and his "congregation" (for want of the correct term.) And every ayatollah issues fatwas proclaiming this or that and condemning this or that. But it cannot be denied that verses in the Quran proclaim that Islam is the true religion and all others, primarily Christianity and Judaism, have been superseded. therein lies the problem in inter-faith dialogue. A Muslim assumes first that everyone else is inferior. And therein lies part of my conflict. What is to prevent any Muslim from becoming "radical?"
This is the same phenomenon that we had in Viet Nam. the Vietnamese who worked on the base during the day might fight with the Viet Cong at night. The peaceful villager, through intimidation, might hide infiltrators. The pilgrims traveling to their homes during the Tet holy days might well be Viet Cong or North Vietnamese soldiers. An ally looks no different from an enemy. A wonderful Muslim man lent my wife and me the down-payment for our first home. Muslim friends were invited to our wedding. But Osam Bin-laden's right arm is a Saudi physician and the Muslim living next door to you could possibly be part of a terrorist sleeper-cell. There is just no way of knowing.
I am an American and my constitution, which I swore to up-hold, says that everyone has the right to freedom of the practice of his or her religion. A church, therefore, under our law, is no better than a synagogue or mosque. And that is the way it should be. And yet Christianity and Judaism do not qualify for that same equality in the Muslim world because of the mind-set already mentioned--they are inferior to Islam. That is why the building of a church or the outward practice of Christianity or the wearing of a cross or crucifix are all illegal in the Muslim world.
I have a problem with that. and I have a problem accepting a world religion that is so paranoid that it condemns to death one of its adherents who converts to another religion, that stones to death anyone who commits a serious religious offense, or which applauds honour killings. This is not my culture, it is a sick culture because it denies the God-given worth of each individual. It is the command of my Saviour that I love my neighbor as myself and with His help (and ONLY with His help) I may actually accomplish that someday. But I will resist Islam with my dying breath if need be. I guess that's the message that's important.
Love the Muslim but resist Islam!
I don't think it's possible to do that, though. And that stems from the unassailable fact that the Quran cannot be separated from the culture. Then, too, Islam suffers from the same problem that Protestant Christianity has--no centralised authority. Modern Christians seems to think that the Church Christ left us is a democracy when it is anything but. It is a monarchy with One King, Jesus, and one regent, the Holy Father.
So it is not with Islam. Every imam claims to interpret the Quran for himself and his "congregation" (for want of the correct term.) And every ayatollah issues fatwas proclaiming this or that and condemning this or that. But it cannot be denied that verses in the Quran proclaim that Islam is the true religion and all others, primarily Christianity and Judaism, have been superseded. therein lies the problem in inter-faith dialogue. A Muslim assumes first that everyone else is inferior. And therein lies part of my conflict. What is to prevent any Muslim from becoming "radical?"
This is the same phenomenon that we had in Viet Nam. the Vietnamese who worked on the base during the day might fight with the Viet Cong at night. The peaceful villager, through intimidation, might hide infiltrators. The pilgrims traveling to their homes during the Tet holy days might well be Viet Cong or North Vietnamese soldiers. An ally looks no different from an enemy. A wonderful Muslim man lent my wife and me the down-payment for our first home. Muslim friends were invited to our wedding. But Osam Bin-laden's right arm is a Saudi physician and the Muslim living next door to you could possibly be part of a terrorist sleeper-cell. There is just no way of knowing.
I am an American and my constitution, which I swore to up-hold, says that everyone has the right to freedom of the practice of his or her religion. A church, therefore, under our law, is no better than a synagogue or mosque. And that is the way it should be. And yet Christianity and Judaism do not qualify for that same equality in the Muslim world because of the mind-set already mentioned--they are inferior to Islam. That is why the building of a church or the outward practice of Christianity or the wearing of a cross or crucifix are all illegal in the Muslim world.
I have a problem with that. and I have a problem accepting a world religion that is so paranoid that it condemns to death one of its adherents who converts to another religion, that stones to death anyone who commits a serious religious offense, or which applauds honour killings. This is not my culture, it is a sick culture because it denies the God-given worth of each individual. It is the command of my Saviour that I love my neighbor as myself and with His help (and ONLY with His help) I may actually accomplish that someday. But I will resist Islam with my dying breath if need be. I guess that's the message that's important.
Love the Muslim but resist Islam!
Sunday, August 15, 2010
"The Feast of the Assumption"
JMJ. Another summer wanes around us. It's been months since I've felt the inspiration to add to this blog. One faithful lady reads this, though, and I can't disappoint her longer. I could claim that I haven't been inspired but that's just evading responsibility. I confess I've just been lazy.
But thousands of devout Catholics, most of Italian descent, have paraded through the streets of Cleveland's Little Italy this week-end, carrying Our Lady's statue while thousands more Protestant and secular Clevelanders have attended, most to view the pageantry and sample the wonderful food. They wonder (if they wonder at all) what the hoopla is all about. A Jewish woman who happened to bear a baby, Jesus Christ, left this vale of tears for Her reward. Big deal.
But it IS a big deal. And non-Catholics just haven't a clue. I had a prolonged conversation with a young fundamentalist about a week ago and asked her just how special an insignificant Jewish girl would be when one of the most powerful of heaven's angels visited her (in God's stead and at His command) to tell Her that He intended Her to bear His Son, the second Person of the Holy Trinity. We're talking the Creator of the whole UNIVERSE here!
I guess no one had ever put it quite like that. My friend was intrigued by this new idea. Ok, I said, She visits Her kinswoman, Elizabeth, who in her old age is herself pregnant with John the Baptist. And what are Elizabeth's Holy Ghost-inspired words? "How is it that the Mother of my Lord has come to me?" Under the prompting of the Holy Ghost she knows that Two walked through her door-way, Her Saviour and His Mother. And she felt it was the Mother Who honoured Her!
Years later, this Woman has the effrontery to ask Him to help a young couple who had run out of wine at their wedding. "It's not my time yet," He answered. But He did as She asked anyway. He changed His plans to satisfy Her request. Is it any wonder we go to Her with our most fervent prayers? Is it any wonder that She stands at His right hand, Queen Mother of all His followers down through the centuries? Down to this poor writer in loving slavery to the Woman Who crushes the head of the serpent?
But thousands of devout Catholics, most of Italian descent, have paraded through the streets of Cleveland's Little Italy this week-end, carrying Our Lady's statue while thousands more Protestant and secular Clevelanders have attended, most to view the pageantry and sample the wonderful food. They wonder (if they wonder at all) what the hoopla is all about. A Jewish woman who happened to bear a baby, Jesus Christ, left this vale of tears for Her reward. Big deal.
But it IS a big deal. And non-Catholics just haven't a clue. I had a prolonged conversation with a young fundamentalist about a week ago and asked her just how special an insignificant Jewish girl would be when one of the most powerful of heaven's angels visited her (in God's stead and at His command) to tell Her that He intended Her to bear His Son, the second Person of the Holy Trinity. We're talking the Creator of the whole UNIVERSE here!
I guess no one had ever put it quite like that. My friend was intrigued by this new idea. Ok, I said, She visits Her kinswoman, Elizabeth, who in her old age is herself pregnant with John the Baptist. And what are Elizabeth's Holy Ghost-inspired words? "How is it that the Mother of my Lord has come to me?" Under the prompting of the Holy Ghost she knows that Two walked through her door-way, Her Saviour and His Mother. And she felt it was the Mother Who honoured Her!
Years later, this Woman has the effrontery to ask Him to help a young couple who had run out of wine at their wedding. "It's not my time yet," He answered. But He did as She asked anyway. He changed His plans to satisfy Her request. Is it any wonder we go to Her with our most fervent prayers? Is it any wonder that She stands at His right hand, Queen Mother of all His followers down through the centuries? Down to this poor writer in loving slavery to the Woman Who crushes the head of the serpent?
Monday, May 17, 2010
"A Saint for Our Times"
JMJ. The vast majority of my reading in religious matters falls into the apologetics category. I usually have little interest in reading about the saints since I can so seldom see myself in their lives. St. Augustine is a notable exception. He was a scoundrel for much of his lifetime just as I have been an unmitigated sinner for much of mine. Not to say that I am not now--I am--it's just that now I'm making an honest effort to change that.
I just read a book, though, called A Song For Nagasaki by Paul Glynn. I can't recommend it highly enough. It details the life of Dr. Takashi Nagai, a Buddhist Japanese physician who found Christ prior to the second world war. Only the second radiologist in Nagasaki, Japan, Nagai was already diagnosed and dying of radiation-induced leukemia before the fateful day in 1945 when America unleashed hell above the Catholic cathedral of his home town.
Dr. Nagai's two children were mercifully visiting their grandmother in the next town but his wife was incinerated in the blast of the second atomic bomb. He found her charred bones and ashes in what was left of their home along with her fused rosary which she must have been praying at the time. Miraculously, he never questioned God's plan for him, he never questioned God's mercy, nor did he ever question the manner of his own death which found him at the age of 43.
If ever a person suffered his purgatory here on earth, this must have been one. Dr. Takashi Nagai is truly a saint for one to model one's life after and not a day goes by that I don't seek his intercession before the throne of our Lord whose simple servant he was. But don't take my word for it, read the book. There are few lives like the one found within those pages.
I just read a book, though, called A Song For Nagasaki by Paul Glynn. I can't recommend it highly enough. It details the life of Dr. Takashi Nagai, a Buddhist Japanese physician who found Christ prior to the second world war. Only the second radiologist in Nagasaki, Japan, Nagai was already diagnosed and dying of radiation-induced leukemia before the fateful day in 1945 when America unleashed hell above the Catholic cathedral of his home town.
Dr. Nagai's two children were mercifully visiting their grandmother in the next town but his wife was incinerated in the blast of the second atomic bomb. He found her charred bones and ashes in what was left of their home along with her fused rosary which she must have been praying at the time. Miraculously, he never questioned God's plan for him, he never questioned God's mercy, nor did he ever question the manner of his own death which found him at the age of 43.
If ever a person suffered his purgatory here on earth, this must have been one. Dr. Takashi Nagai is truly a saint for one to model one's life after and not a day goes by that I don't seek his intercession before the throne of our Lord whose simple servant he was. But don't take my word for it, read the book. There are few lives like the one found within those pages.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
What Price A Miracle?
JMJ. There is a popular notion that a bright, shiny penny lying on the ground is a little message from someone whom we have lost. One is supposed to pick it up because to ignore it is to ignore a small sign from the beyond. How true that is I couldn't say but I've always picked up pennies, regardless of how shiny or banged-up they be. My rationale is that 100 of them make a dollar.
Most people ignore them, though, and it just hit me recently how much they resemble the small blessings God sends us each day. Most of us ignore most of them exactly the same way. Like the time St. Anthony helped us find our car keys. Or seeing the sun peek through the clouds on a cold, dreary winter day. Oh, and then there was the time we held the door for someone in a store for about the umpteenth time and for once he or she said, "Thank you."
None of these were earth-shattering, none of them changed the course of history. But upon reflection, (if only we remember to do so,) we realise that they were our Lord's way of saying, "Just wanted to let you know I love you." And, like a bunch of pennies, they all add up to something big when the Creator says, "I love you." Now THAT'S a blessing!
Most people ignore them, though, and it just hit me recently how much they resemble the small blessings God sends us each day. Most of us ignore most of them exactly the same way. Like the time St. Anthony helped us find our car keys. Or seeing the sun peek through the clouds on a cold, dreary winter day. Oh, and then there was the time we held the door for someone in a store for about the umpteenth time and for once he or she said, "Thank you."
None of these were earth-shattering, none of them changed the course of history. But upon reflection, (if only we remember to do so,) we realise that they were our Lord's way of saying, "Just wanted to let you know I love you." And, like a bunch of pennies, they all add up to something big when the Creator says, "I love you." Now THAT'S a blessing!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Carrying of the Cross, Revisited
JMJ. Something came to me the other day. I was out walking the dog and saying a mental Rosary at the same time. (And my wife says I need to learn to multi-task!) I won't say that it was an epiphany. But I had been thinking about our Lord's mortality and how He was so overcome with fear in the garden of Gethsemane that it was necessary for angels to minister to Him. How amazing, I wondered, to be allowed to bear up the Creator in His distress.
And it was only a few hours later that His steps faltered again and His strength came well-nigh to failing Him as His broken body was called upon to carry His own cross to Golgotha. But it was not an angel this time who came to His aid but a mere man, St. Simon of Cyrene, who was called upon to offer Him aid. Not His divine Self which supplied His own strength, not heavenly angels this time, but a man--a poor sinner just as I am who was allowed to accompany Him to the place of His execution.
His Holy Mother could only pray for Him and weep for Him, St. Veronica wiped the blood and spittle and sweat from His face, and all of His disciples fled Him in fear of the Romans and the Jews. Only one man helped Him bear the weight of that fearsome tree and he was forced to do so. But what a vocation!
And it was only a few hours later that His steps faltered again and His strength came well-nigh to failing Him as His broken body was called upon to carry His own cross to Golgotha. But it was not an angel this time who came to His aid but a mere man, St. Simon of Cyrene, who was called upon to offer Him aid. Not His divine Self which supplied His own strength, not heavenly angels this time, but a man--a poor sinner just as I am who was allowed to accompany Him to the place of His execution.
His Holy Mother could only pray for Him and weep for Him, St. Veronica wiped the blood and spittle and sweat from His face, and all of His disciples fled Him in fear of the Romans and the Jews. Only one man helped Him bear the weight of that fearsome tree and he was forced to do so. But what a vocation!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Barren Fig Tree
JMJ. I know a lot of people who have left the Church 'cause they felt they "weren't being fed." Now, I will be the first to agree that there are good homilists and there are less than sterling ones. (And even the best have off-days.) The Sunday gospel readings recently jerked me up-right as if I'd been pole-axed. Time and again I've read the passage in Luke, chapter 13, verses 6-9. And it always went right over my head. I guess it's true that when we're meant to hear something, the Lord will open our ears.
I'm not going to quote the entire passage here since you, imaginary reader, are as capable of reading it as I am of writing it. The idea is that a fig tree has not produced fruit for some time and the owner wants to save soil and room and cut it down. The gardener prevails on the owner to give it another chance, promising to give it special care. (It can always be dealt with later if it still is unproductive.)
Father said, "Now the Owner is God and the Gardener is Jesus." And I thought, "Holy cow, and I'm the fig tree!" I don't think I heard much of anything 'til the Consecration. I was too boggled by the knowledge that at any time my "Owner of the Vineyard" could have yanked me out by my roots. And I'd have had no one to blame but myself! I breathed a figurative sigh of relief that there is a merciful Gardener Who was willing to speak up for me, beg for mercy, and to tend me that I might one day blossom and merit the heavenly Garden. Amen!
I'm not going to quote the entire passage here since you, imaginary reader, are as capable of reading it as I am of writing it. The idea is that a fig tree has not produced fruit for some time and the owner wants to save soil and room and cut it down. The gardener prevails on the owner to give it another chance, promising to give it special care. (It can always be dealt with later if it still is unproductive.)
Father said, "Now the Owner is God and the Gardener is Jesus." And I thought, "Holy cow, and I'm the fig tree!" I don't think I heard much of anything 'til the Consecration. I was too boggled by the knowledge that at any time my "Owner of the Vineyard" could have yanked me out by my roots. And I'd have had no one to blame but myself! I breathed a figurative sigh of relief that there is a merciful Gardener Who was willing to speak up for me, beg for mercy, and to tend me that I might one day blossom and merit the heavenly Garden. Amen!
Unchanging/Unchangeable
JMJ. When I was a kid, we all played a game we called "telephone." I'm sure there are other names but most of us have played it at one time or another. It's a great object lesson in how things can go awry if you place humans in the equation. Basically it involves a bunch of people (the more the merrier) sitting in a circle. The first person tells a simple tale to the person next to him, he to the next, and so on around the circle. The lesson comes when one compares the last tale to the first.
Now I don't have much of a problem with how things get garbled accidentally. After all, that's part of being human. What annoys the daylights out of me is that folks change things around on purpose, usually to suit their own agendas. Especially in matters religious. Now, Jesus, being God, was not stupid. He knew what it meant to be fully human. That was why He had to leave us with an infallible arbitrator/teacher to rule in cases of misunderstandings, intentional or otherwise. He left us the Catholic Church.
The Orthodox churches were the first to turn away from the safety of the Church's infallibility by denying the primacy of the heirs of St. Peter for their own nationalistic reasons. Then came the Protestant churches five hundred years ago, all making up doctrines to suit their own interpretations of God's holy Word. Things have devolved so badly that each "Christian" now makes things up as he or she goes along.
This is evidenced most starkly in the words of the red and black banner that hangs from most UCC churches and says "God is Still Speaking." Yes, I agree that He speaks to us each and every day. The idea implicit in their thought, though, is that He's saying different things than He did originally. Just like humans, they say, God is evolving. Society has changed so artificial birth control must now be allowed. Society is more complex than it was so it's ok to have sex outside of marriage or with someone not one's own marriage partner. "I'm gay and I'm entitled to love, too." Or even (God help us) "This baby I'm pregnant with is hampering my life-style so it's ok to abort it!"
Of course there's a fly in the ointment of these cafeteria Christians (and even cafeteria Catholics.) That fly is Holy Scripture--the one source that all Protestants point to as their sole authority. Take a look at Hebrews 13:8,9. I'll even quote it. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings." And when you stop to think about it (which the nay-sayers never do), it could be no other way. God is perfect; how can He need to evolve? If you put your hand into a fire and burns yourself, how can it be otherwise if repeated? The fire (especially the eternal fire) never loses its heat. Do not be deceived, do not leave the sureness which Christ left you.
Now I don't have much of a problem with how things get garbled accidentally. After all, that's part of being human. What annoys the daylights out of me is that folks change things around on purpose, usually to suit their own agendas. Especially in matters religious. Now, Jesus, being God, was not stupid. He knew what it meant to be fully human. That was why He had to leave us with an infallible arbitrator/teacher to rule in cases of misunderstandings, intentional or otherwise. He left us the Catholic Church.
The Orthodox churches were the first to turn away from the safety of the Church's infallibility by denying the primacy of the heirs of St. Peter for their own nationalistic reasons. Then came the Protestant churches five hundred years ago, all making up doctrines to suit their own interpretations of God's holy Word. Things have devolved so badly that each "Christian" now makes things up as he or she goes along.
This is evidenced most starkly in the words of the red and black banner that hangs from most UCC churches and says "God is Still Speaking." Yes, I agree that He speaks to us each and every day. The idea implicit in their thought, though, is that He's saying different things than He did originally. Just like humans, they say, God is evolving. Society has changed so artificial birth control must now be allowed. Society is more complex than it was so it's ok to have sex outside of marriage or with someone not one's own marriage partner. "I'm gay and I'm entitled to love, too." Or even (God help us) "This baby I'm pregnant with is hampering my life-style so it's ok to abort it!"
Of course there's a fly in the ointment of these cafeteria Christians (and even cafeteria Catholics.) That fly is Holy Scripture--the one source that all Protestants point to as their sole authority. Take a look at Hebrews 13:8,9. I'll even quote it. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings." And when you stop to think about it (which the nay-sayers never do), it could be no other way. God is perfect; how can He need to evolve? If you put your hand into a fire and burns yourself, how can it be otherwise if repeated? The fire (especially the eternal fire) never loses its heat. Do not be deceived, do not leave the sureness which Christ left you.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
God Illuminates My Path Once Again
JMJ. That most blessed time of the year has returned and another Lenten period is upon us. I continue to marvel at God's love for me and for His tremendous forebearance.
I have wondered for some time at the actions of the Apostles at the Last Supper. Jesus spoke in Matthew 26:21, saying, "Truly I say to you, one of you will betray me."
If ever there were more overt guilty consciences I don't know when that might have been. Each of them in turn said, "Is it I, Lord?" Now, I don't know about you, but I would think that I would know if I had betrayed our Lord to the authorities. But in reflecting further I came to realise that the betrayal went far beyond the mere political.
Maybe the Apostles weren't so far off after all. Jesus answered them saying that the traitor was the one who dipped his hand into the same bowl as did our Lord. Didn't they all do that? Don't all of us? Jesus, our Lord, provided a bowl of food for their Passover celebration. And they all partook of that food (if not necessarily from the same dish.)
God, the Most Blessed Trinity, has provided a trove of graces from which we all dip our hands. And through our sins we betray Him Who gave Himself for our redemption. As I have written elsewhere, we all spat in His face, we all scourged Him, we all pounded the nails into His poor beaten body. So, too, have we all betrayed Him through our commissions and omissions.
Peter once asked Him how many times we must forgive and Jesus told Peter, seventy times seven. Though many forgivenesses, it is finite. God's forgiveness is infinite. Judas squandered that forgiveness and despaired. Had he returned the evil silver and begged for His Lord's mercy he would have received it. That is our blessing. We betrayers can learn from that tragic mistake, can repent our sinful betrayals, throw the silver back into Satan's face, and with Divine Forgiveness can once again dip our hands into the bowl Christ has provided for us.
May God bless your Lent and make it fruitful unto you, dear reader.
I have wondered for some time at the actions of the Apostles at the Last Supper. Jesus spoke in Matthew 26:21, saying, "Truly I say to you, one of you will betray me."
If ever there were more overt guilty consciences I don't know when that might have been. Each of them in turn said, "Is it I, Lord?" Now, I don't know about you, but I would think that I would know if I had betrayed our Lord to the authorities. But in reflecting further I came to realise that the betrayal went far beyond the mere political.
Maybe the Apostles weren't so far off after all. Jesus answered them saying that the traitor was the one who dipped his hand into the same bowl as did our Lord. Didn't they all do that? Don't all of us? Jesus, our Lord, provided a bowl of food for their Passover celebration. And they all partook of that food (if not necessarily from the same dish.)
God, the Most Blessed Trinity, has provided a trove of graces from which we all dip our hands. And through our sins we betray Him Who gave Himself for our redemption. As I have written elsewhere, we all spat in His face, we all scourged Him, we all pounded the nails into His poor beaten body. So, too, have we all betrayed Him through our commissions and omissions.
Peter once asked Him how many times we must forgive and Jesus told Peter, seventy times seven. Though many forgivenesses, it is finite. God's forgiveness is infinite. Judas squandered that forgiveness and despaired. Had he returned the evil silver and begged for His Lord's mercy he would have received it. That is our blessing. We betrayers can learn from that tragic mistake, can repent our sinful betrayals, throw the silver back into Satan's face, and with Divine Forgiveness can once again dip our hands into the bowl Christ has provided for us.
May God bless your Lent and make it fruitful unto you, dear reader.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Majesty
JMJ. I was taking a shower the other day. (I try to do this once a week or so whether I need one or not.) In the course of my ablutions I was struck by the over-powering majesty of the Catholic Church. It was one of those little pecks on the cheek I've talked about before and is God's way of saying, "I know it's January and dismal as all get-out outside, but I thought I'd bring a little ray of sunshine into your heart."
I need them from time to time and I'm sure that you do, too, imaginary reader. There is something immensely awesome when one considers that a unique movement was set in motion over 2,000 years ago, founded on a bunch of rural yokels of no great intellectual accomplishments, whose one saving grace was their belief in the deity of this strange Man from Galilee.
It's de rigeur nowadays to disparage the Catholic Church, to question her teachings, to deplore the abuses which have come to light in the last decade but which just seems to keep plugging along in spite of it all. If there is not something majestic in this and not just a little miraculous, I don't know what it would be. In the face of death, persecution, and suffering the Church grew by leaps and bounds with only the Divine Promise of an eternity of joy if we would but repent and believe.
Upon contemplation of that sweeping vista I was struck by the tragedy that so many turn their backs on His offer. Go figure.
I need them from time to time and I'm sure that you do, too, imaginary reader. There is something immensely awesome when one considers that a unique movement was set in motion over 2,000 years ago, founded on a bunch of rural yokels of no great intellectual accomplishments, whose one saving grace was their belief in the deity of this strange Man from Galilee.
It's de rigeur nowadays to disparage the Catholic Church, to question her teachings, to deplore the abuses which have come to light in the last decade but which just seems to keep plugging along in spite of it all. If there is not something majestic in this and not just a little miraculous, I don't know what it would be. In the face of death, persecution, and suffering the Church grew by leaps and bounds with only the Divine Promise of an eternity of joy if we would but repent and believe.
Upon contemplation of that sweeping vista I was struck by the tragedy that so many turn their backs on His offer. Go figure.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
God Is So Good To Us
JMJ. At first I thought that 2010 was off to a rotten start. One of our adopted ferrets, Chloe, had to be put to sleep yesterday. Here I am, almost 62 years old, and I still feel more comfortable saying, "put to sleep" instead of "put down" or euthanised. She had been living with cancer in her abdomen for over six months but it was only the last month or so that saw a sharp decline in her spirits. She just wasn't as involved in playing with her buddy, Casper, as she once was. I'm sure I'm just anthropomorphising but it seems that there is more courage in their little bodies than in some adult humans of my acquaintance.
Only a week ago my AFS sister (from Japan) who lived with us over 30 years ago wrote to say that her father had died of cancer and complications of pneumonia. She grieved with us when my mom died and we grieve with her at the loss of her father. Only a few months ago my Linda's mom died, too. All of these were expected but all of them were so difficult. All of these losses, I had thought, would leave a vast hole in our hearts.
But on mature reflection (I've been known to do that once or twice) I realised how great and merciful our God is. He taketh away with one hand while giving us the strength to bear with our losses, and gives us kisses on our cheeks to show us His love.How? Ok, I'm glad you asked so I'll tell you.
Some time ago I felt that I was being called on to leave my present job and take one with the local Catholic Charity hospice, Holy Family Home. Several times now I've volunteered my time on days off and have found it to be one of the most loving and wonderful things a nurse could do. I am in awe at the impact that one person can in the life and death of another.
A lady from the Cleveland ferret rescue service is bringing us a young furball tomorrow to see how she and Casper get along. He needs someone young to help him learn to play again. His humans love him but no one knows how to play like another ferret.
I went to the web-site of the Manhattan Declaration just a little while ago. The signings had seemed to be slowing down over the last few weeks. The number was up to 310,000 or so but kind of creeping along whereas before it was bounding. Much to my surprise the total is up over
Only a week ago my AFS sister (from Japan) who lived with us over 30 years ago wrote to say that her father had died of cancer and complications of pneumonia. She grieved with us when my mom died and we grieve with her at the loss of her father. Only a few months ago my Linda's mom died, too. All of these were expected but all of them were so difficult. All of these losses, I had thought, would leave a vast hole in our hearts.
But on mature reflection (I've been known to do that once or twice) I realised how great and merciful our God is. He taketh away with one hand while giving us the strength to bear with our losses, and gives us kisses on our cheeks to show us His love.How? Ok, I'm glad you asked so I'll tell you.
Some time ago I felt that I was being called on to leave my present job and take one with the local Catholic Charity hospice, Holy Family Home. Several times now I've volunteered my time on days off and have found it to be one of the most loving and wonderful things a nurse could do. I am in awe at the impact that one person can in the life and death of another.
A lady from the Cleveland ferret rescue service is bringing us a young furball tomorrow to see how she and Casper get along. He needs someone young to help him learn to play again. His humans love him but no one knows how to play like another ferret.
I went to the web-site of the Manhattan Declaration just a little while ago. The signings had seemed to be slowing down over the last few weeks. The number was up to 310,000 or so but kind of creeping along whereas before it was bounding. Much to my surprise the total is up over
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