JMJ. God gives each of us a conscience. Pinocchio's conscience was named Jiminy Cricket. Mine, at least as far as this blog goes, is a silver-blonde pixie with a pony tail named Bonnie. My internal conscience frequently reminds me that I've been overly lazy and haven't up-dated this site in some time but we've worked together for so long that it doesn't mind if I don't act on his nudges for some time. Bonnie's not so easy to ignore. She'll fix me with a gimlet look and tell me how much she liked my last entry. With the emphasis on last.
Well, about a month ago she sent me a short e-mail containing the question, "What if all you had today was what you thanked God for yesterday?" I've never been hit before physically but I can imagine that it feels a lot like this did. An amazing epiphany of a sort. Do you remember Christ healing the ten blind men? Only one returned to say "thank you." I like to think that I'm a grateful guy, especially where God is concerned. I say grace before each meal and before I go to sleep at night.
But this question forces us to take a step back, inspect our lives, and really think about all that God has done in our lives. Because if we truly appreciate all He does for us then it behooves us to focus on His every blessing. When we do, our whole world expands and we look on life with new eyes, grateful eyes. Bonnie, thanks for all you do for me. Amen.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
"Sanctuary"
JMJ. Forty-two years ago I was serving in our Navy, which like the rest of the country was embroiled in a little fracas in southeast Asia. The name of my ship was the USS Sanctuary, a hospital ship ported in Da Nang. We'd sail out every three days or so and steam up and down the coast, waiting to bring helos aboard with wounded soldiers and Marines. For the wounded, bleeding, and dying she was a safe haven, a true sanctuary from the horrors of combat.
We still need sanctuary. There is a war a-waging around us more frightful that that of Iraq or Afghanistan, Viet Nam, or Korea. It is a war of good vs. evil and it's being fought by men and women who look just like you and me both in the cities and countryside and on an invisible plane where the cheer-leaders are angels and demons.
But in war, unlike children's games, there are precious few places of safety, few places to rest away from the conflict unseen around us. Except Church, of course. Within the tabernacle of a Catholic Church or chapel the Prince of Peace waits patiently to refresh our lagging bodies and spirits. In a smaller way, Tilma, too, is a place of sactuary. For a short time one can leave behind the cares of life and the toil of battling the ungodly. For a short time the cares of battle are held at bay.
(Added 12.29.11 at a friend's request) During the Viet Nam war each serviceman was allowed a round-trip flight to the destination of our church (from a short list of choices.) The idea was to allow one a respite from the daily stress of life in a warzone. Like all good ideas it worked better for some than for others. Tilma is like that R&R. It's a short relief from the daily battle against the culture of death. One can clear away the mental cobwebs, sweep the decks, and return to the battle with renewed vigour. For us, the war is on-going.
And that's ok. For each of us the war's end will come soon enough and we will lay down our arms at the feet of the Divine Peacemaker forever. Amen.
We still need sanctuary. There is a war a-waging around us more frightful that that of Iraq or Afghanistan, Viet Nam, or Korea. It is a war of good vs. evil and it's being fought by men and women who look just like you and me both in the cities and countryside and on an invisible plane where the cheer-leaders are angels and demons.
But in war, unlike children's games, there are precious few places of safety, few places to rest away from the conflict unseen around us. Except Church, of course. Within the tabernacle of a Catholic Church or chapel the Prince of Peace waits patiently to refresh our lagging bodies and spirits. In a smaller way, Tilma, too, is a place of sactuary. For a short time one can leave behind the cares of life and the toil of battling the ungodly. For a short time the cares of battle are held at bay.
(Added 12.29.11 at a friend's request) During the Viet Nam war each serviceman was allowed a round-trip flight to the destination of our church (from a short list of choices.) The idea was to allow one a respite from the daily stress of life in a warzone. Like all good ideas it worked better for some than for others. Tilma is like that R&R. It's a short relief from the daily battle against the culture of death. One can clear away the mental cobwebs, sweep the decks, and return to the battle with renewed vigour. For us, the war is on-going.
And that's ok. For each of us the war's end will come soon enough and we will lay down our arms at the feet of the Divine Peacemaker forever. Amen.
"Lot's Wife"
JMJ. I've been meaning to write this entry for some time and I find that I can't put off my procrastination any longer. One of my favourite activities is mulling over the mystery of the mercy of God. Mankind's entire history is one long example of His mercy to us, starting with the disobedience of Adam and Eve and ending with the continual misdeeds of yours truly. We just can't stop messing up. Bigtime.
Ok, I admit that I'm human. [Gasp!] I sin, confess, and am forgiven. I sin, I confess, I'm absolved. An un-ending litany of mea culpas. I don't mean to keep messing up. In fact, I'd far rather not. I guess I'm just naturally paranoid which is why I keep thinking about the subject. After all, Peter asked Jesus in the Bible how many times we are to forgive and He answers seventy times seven. Shoot, Lot's wife looked back wistfully once and ended up as a pillar of salt!
I firmly believe that to show our love of God we need to obey Him to the best of our abilities. I truly do. But my life before Jesus was fun in a very decadent way. And it felt good. That's how Satan tricks us into putting our souls in jeopardy--he makes sin so darned attractive. Now on the one hand I so want to show my love for Christ and on the other I can't help but look back over my shoulder at what I've left behind. I made the right decision twelve years ago and there are no regrets--just memories of what I was before.
That, and a tremendous gratitude to God that He is as merciful as He is or I'd have been a pillar of salt a long, long time ago.
Ok, I admit that I'm human. [Gasp!] I sin, confess, and am forgiven. I sin, I confess, I'm absolved. An un-ending litany of mea culpas. I don't mean to keep messing up. In fact, I'd far rather not. I guess I'm just naturally paranoid which is why I keep thinking about the subject. After all, Peter asked Jesus in the Bible how many times we are to forgive and He answers seventy times seven. Shoot, Lot's wife looked back wistfully once and ended up as a pillar of salt!
I firmly believe that to show our love of God we need to obey Him to the best of our abilities. I truly do. But my life before Jesus was fun in a very decadent way. And it felt good. That's how Satan tricks us into putting our souls in jeopardy--he makes sin so darned attractive. Now on the one hand I so want to show my love for Christ and on the other I can't help but look back over my shoulder at what I've left behind. I made the right decision twelve years ago and there are no regrets--just memories of what I was before.
That, and a tremendous gratitude to God that He is as merciful as He is or I'd have been a pillar of salt a long, long time ago.
Monday, November 28, 2011
"Mea Culpa"
JMJ. Well, Advent has begun, and with it the new Roman Missal is now in use. And, as is usually par for the course, it's got the folks in the pews up in arms. (Those who don't normally come to Mass are totally clueless. They'll come to church for Christmas and when they haven't the faintest idea why everyone else is saying something entirely different they'll blame the Pastor for not telling them ahead of time. Go figure.)
Why the change? Well, it all goes back to Vatican II. It was Rome's intent to make the Mass more understandable to the people and in this she succeeded. In her haste to effect these changes, though, the translations from the Latin to the vernacular, specifically English, were less than precise shall we say. Not wrong, mind you, just imprecise. Finally, after forty-some odd years, the Church decided that this looseness had to be snugged up.
Now you might ask what the big deal is anyway. The big deal is that imprecision can lead to misunderstandings in doctrine. And that IS a big deal. Looseness in a recipe results in less than satisfactory food; laxness in doctrine might be enough to send someone down a wrong theological path. When salvation is on the line I'll re-learn some new words. For all the whining and complaining we will look back on these changes, scratch our collective heads, and wonder what the hu-hu was all about.
[To my one faithful reader--that I'm aware of anyway-- I say mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa for the huge hiatus between postings. Chalk it up to laziness, dear lady. I promise to try to do better.]
Why the change? Well, it all goes back to Vatican II. It was Rome's intent to make the Mass more understandable to the people and in this she succeeded. In her haste to effect these changes, though, the translations from the Latin to the vernacular, specifically English, were less than precise shall we say. Not wrong, mind you, just imprecise. Finally, after forty-some odd years, the Church decided that this looseness had to be snugged up.
Now you might ask what the big deal is anyway. The big deal is that imprecision can lead to misunderstandings in doctrine. And that IS a big deal. Looseness in a recipe results in less than satisfactory food; laxness in doctrine might be enough to send someone down a wrong theological path. When salvation is on the line I'll re-learn some new words. For all the whining and complaining we will look back on these changes, scratch our collective heads, and wonder what the hu-hu was all about.
[To my one faithful reader--that I'm aware of anyway-- I say mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa for the huge hiatus between postings. Chalk it up to laziness, dear lady. I promise to try to do better.]
Saturday, September 10, 2011
"Ten Years Tomorrow"
JMJ. When I was a kid in high school I sat in my Latin class (back when they taught Latin in school) and heard the principal announce over the PA system that President John F. Kennedy had been shot. All of us kids and our teacher were stunned. I never would have thought that anything so momentous could ever happen again in my lifetime. How wrong I was.
Ten years ago Muslim terrorists flew two jet-liners into the towers of the World Trade Center. Once again America and the world were stunned. Then we saw another hit the Pentagon. And a plane that was to have hit the White House had it not been for a handful of heroes among her passengers plowed up the earth in a field in Pennsylvania. I wonder how many of those Muslim souls were welcomed into the sweet embrace of the houris of paradise that day? I do know that thousands of souls were confronted by their Maker most suddenly as a result of this violence.
And still we welcome Muslim immigration into this country! Christians are persecuted and murdered at Muslim hads in the Sudan, in Indonesion, and the Philippines. In the Middle East and just recently in China. Many areas of Europe are even under sharia law. I know, I know. This is just a small percentage of world Islam. But just stop to think of the fact that just a small percentage of a billion people is one WHOLE lot of terrorists. Wake up, Christendom.
Ten years ago Muslim terrorists flew two jet-liners into the towers of the World Trade Center. Once again America and the world were stunned. Then we saw another hit the Pentagon. And a plane that was to have hit the White House had it not been for a handful of heroes among her passengers plowed up the earth in a field in Pennsylvania. I wonder how many of those Muslim souls were welcomed into the sweet embrace of the houris of paradise that day? I do know that thousands of souls were confronted by their Maker most suddenly as a result of this violence.
And still we welcome Muslim immigration into this country! Christians are persecuted and murdered at Muslim hads in the Sudan, in Indonesion, and the Philippines. In the Middle East and just recently in China. Many areas of Europe are even under sharia law. I know, I know. This is just a small percentage of world Islam. But just stop to think of the fact that just a small percentage of a billion people is one WHOLE lot of terrorists. Wake up, Christendom.
"Praying"
JMJ. I went to confession today. Now, that's not that surprising but at the end, following Father's absolution of me, he said that he'd pray for me. Well, of course I told him that I'd pray for him, too--and I do, daily. What struck me just now, a couple hours later, is the big difference between the Christian Catholic and the secularist. The latter would look at this anecdote and think, "Big deal, they cancel each other out." The Christian would say, "Hallelujah! The Lord will not only listen to them both but bless each of them for their charity." I'm sure glad I'm Christian. Amen.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
"Another Protestant Prejudice"
JMJ. Imagine, if you will, that God has a plan. A plan which will accomplish the salvation of all mankind. I mean, He gives us free will and before the world is too much older we manage to give in to temptation and mess the whole program up. And like any loving parent He has to come along behind us and clean up our mess. Most anyone else would shake their head and say, "Duh, I'm just gonna start all over." Not God, oh no. He thinks we might have potential.
But His plan involves a woman; a girl, actually. She lives in this tiny jerkwater hinterland of the mighty Roman Empire. She's a little Jewish girl. One fine day a messenger from God (after all, that's what angels are) appears to her. He is so awesome that like every other instance of his appearances to humanity he has to preface everything by telling her not to fear him. And he's not just any angel--he's the Archangel Gabriel who stands perpetually before the face of God. He greets her with, "Hail, full of grace. The Lord is with thee."
Now that alone would make you wonder just how important this young woman is. But then he goes on to say that (with her concurrence) she will bear the Anointed One, the Redeemer of Israel. And on top of all that, the Holy Ghost is going to arrange for all this to happen in a way that it has never happened before--or since! Now fast-forward a couple weeks or so. Mary has been told by the angel that her kinswoman Elizabeth is also pregnant in a special way so Mary rushes to her aid. She walks in Elizabeth's door and greets her. Now, look carefully, Protestants. Under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, Elizabeth asks Mary how she, the Mother of the Lord, could deign to bless Elizabeth with Her presence. Not the unborn Lord's presence, mind you, but the Blessed Mother's!
I'll end this screed here and ask all you separated brethren, how can you still claim that Mary's only claim to fame is that She was the incubator for Jesus Christ? The Blessed Virgin Mary, alone of all the billions of women to live in time is able to accomplish one stupendous thing--She enables the Creator of the universe to become something that He never was before--a human being. And She's of little importance?
But His plan involves a woman; a girl, actually. She lives in this tiny jerkwater hinterland of the mighty Roman Empire. She's a little Jewish girl. One fine day a messenger from God (after all, that's what angels are) appears to her. He is so awesome that like every other instance of his appearances to humanity he has to preface everything by telling her not to fear him. And he's not just any angel--he's the Archangel Gabriel who stands perpetually before the face of God. He greets her with, "Hail, full of grace. The Lord is with thee."
Now that alone would make you wonder just how important this young woman is. But then he goes on to say that (with her concurrence) she will bear the Anointed One, the Redeemer of Israel. And on top of all that, the Holy Ghost is going to arrange for all this to happen in a way that it has never happened before--or since! Now fast-forward a couple weeks or so. Mary has been told by the angel that her kinswoman Elizabeth is also pregnant in a special way so Mary rushes to her aid. She walks in Elizabeth's door and greets her. Now, look carefully, Protestants. Under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, Elizabeth asks Mary how she, the Mother of the Lord, could deign to bless Elizabeth with Her presence. Not the unborn Lord's presence, mind you, but the Blessed Mother's!
I'll end this screed here and ask all you separated brethren, how can you still claim that Mary's only claim to fame is that She was the incubator for Jesus Christ? The Blessed Virgin Mary, alone of all the billions of women to live in time is able to accomplish one stupendous thing--She enables the Creator of the universe to become something that He never was before--a human being. And She's of little importance?
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