JMJ. It doesn't take a mental giant (good thing for me!) to realize that there are differences and similarities between the Catholic Church and the various Protestant denominations--at last count over 35,000. The main similarity is that we all worship the Most Blessed Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The major difference--and it's a huge one--is that the the Protestant churches in their multiplicity worship God the way they want to. Catholics worship God the way HE wants to be worshipped. Houston, we have a problem. They do, anyway.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
"Thoughts On Dreams"
JMJ. I had a recurring dream when I was a kid. Maybe up until I was in my 20's or so. At least I know that I haven't had it in a long, long time. It takes place at night and I'm in the back seat of an fancy old touring car--the kind with a running board. We're going down an overgrown road deep in the woods and I'm being driven by a mobster and am flanked by mobsters in the back seat. After driving for some time without a sign of any other humans the car stops. I'm ordered out of the car and it's obvious that we're not going to build a fire and make s'mores.
All of a sudden there's a whooshing sound followed by a dull thunk and one of the goons has a hatchet growing from his chest. The other two Mafiosi are terrified and clamber back into the car and it roars off, leaving me behind. I look up into the trees and see a giant raccoon grinning at me holding another tomahawk and he's ready to fling it. I'm safe, thanks to this furry saviour. Now, dreams are supposed to be glimpses into our psyches but for the life of me I can't figure out a lesson from this dream other than maybe "don't get into an open touring car with mobsters for a spin out in the woods."
From what I was taught in nursing school we all dream but only remember them occasionally, varying from one person to another. I remember them fairly frequently but they're usually dull, dreams filled with frustration at a task I can't perform or I'm without pants in some public place. Ho-hum. About a month ago I had a dream that took my breath away and which I remember quite clearly. And in vivid colour to boot.
I find myself in a bright, shiny neighborhood (which I don't recognize 'cause it's kind of generic) and I'm beset by demons. Pretty soon other folks are, too, and for some reason everyone takes refuge in my house. There are demons at every orifice trying to gain entry and I just know somehow that the only thing that will save us is praying the Rosary. Most of the people with me are unfamiliar with it so I'm forced to teach it while praying it to prevent demonic entry. Finally everyone gets the hang of it when there is a loud banging at the front door. I opened the door and there stood the Evil One himself.
I begin praying the Rosary with renewed vengeance and am soon joined by all of the folks I'd taught. We know in our hearts that we will be safe and sure enough, the demons and Himself leave. We'd all been under the Blessed Mother's protection. Okay, this one is a no-brainer. Trust in the protective power of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Her favourite prayer, the holy Rosary and She will protect us from evil.
Several days later I'm in a hilly neighborhood development with all kinds of big houses. People are milling around, unaware of the danger they are in. Their quiet lives have been interrupted by the sudden appearance of a huge, ravening scorpion which is periodically devouring people but they have no idea when and where he will strike. Only I and a handful of others have detected that this is no ordinary alien creature but the Evil One himself. We go from home to home and person to person warning them of this spiritual danger but they remain unconvinced and slowly they are being eaten alive and lost.
To protect ourselves our small band prays constantly but we make only the occasional convert. Then the dream ends. I thought this one a lot and decided it represented the unawareness that the vast majority of folks have concerning the sinfulness of our society and that the Evil One lurks about waiting to pick us off. It is only the small minority of righteous who have any knowledge of danger and we find it very difficult to warn others. 'Nuff said.
I wasn't sure I shout publicise these descents into my subconscious but decided they might be of some value to others.
All of a sudden there's a whooshing sound followed by a dull thunk and one of the goons has a hatchet growing from his chest. The other two Mafiosi are terrified and clamber back into the car and it roars off, leaving me behind. I look up into the trees and see a giant raccoon grinning at me holding another tomahawk and he's ready to fling it. I'm safe, thanks to this furry saviour. Now, dreams are supposed to be glimpses into our psyches but for the life of me I can't figure out a lesson from this dream other than maybe "don't get into an open touring car with mobsters for a spin out in the woods."
From what I was taught in nursing school we all dream but only remember them occasionally, varying from one person to another. I remember them fairly frequently but they're usually dull, dreams filled with frustration at a task I can't perform or I'm without pants in some public place. Ho-hum. About a month ago I had a dream that took my breath away and which I remember quite clearly. And in vivid colour to boot.
I find myself in a bright, shiny neighborhood (which I don't recognize 'cause it's kind of generic) and I'm beset by demons. Pretty soon other folks are, too, and for some reason everyone takes refuge in my house. There are demons at every orifice trying to gain entry and I just know somehow that the only thing that will save us is praying the Rosary. Most of the people with me are unfamiliar with it so I'm forced to teach it while praying it to prevent demonic entry. Finally everyone gets the hang of it when there is a loud banging at the front door. I opened the door and there stood the Evil One himself.
I begin praying the Rosary with renewed vengeance and am soon joined by all of the folks I'd taught. We know in our hearts that we will be safe and sure enough, the demons and Himself leave. We'd all been under the Blessed Mother's protection. Okay, this one is a no-brainer. Trust in the protective power of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Her favourite prayer, the holy Rosary and She will protect us from evil.
Several days later I'm in a hilly neighborhood development with all kinds of big houses. People are milling around, unaware of the danger they are in. Their quiet lives have been interrupted by the sudden appearance of a huge, ravening scorpion which is periodically devouring people but they have no idea when and where he will strike. Only I and a handful of others have detected that this is no ordinary alien creature but the Evil One himself. We go from home to home and person to person warning them of this spiritual danger but they remain unconvinced and slowly they are being eaten alive and lost.
To protect ourselves our small band prays constantly but we make only the occasional convert. Then the dream ends. I thought this one a lot and decided it represented the unawareness that the vast majority of folks have concerning the sinfulness of our society and that the Evil One lurks about waiting to pick us off. It is only the small minority of righteous who have any knowledge of danger and we find it very difficult to warn others. 'Nuff said.
I wasn't sure I shout publicise these descents into my subconscious but decided they might be of some value to others.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
"Thoughts On the Mediatrix of all Grace"
JMJ. It's a fact that Protestants have little use for the Blessed Mother. If they think of Her at all it is to relegate Her to some dark, easily forgotten corner of the room, there to collect cobwebs and dust bunnies, at least until Christmas rolls around. Then they bring Her out, dust Her off, and set Her next to the manger in the stable, there to await the advent of our Lord.
What we Catholics await, though, (since we know better!) is the pronouncement of the doctrine of the Blessed Mother as Mediatrix of all Grace. I'm sure that there are profound theological arguments in favour of this doctrine but really, we can prove this is so with simple logic. I doubt if many, if any, Christians would deny that the most stupendous of all graces of all time, the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, as a man, came to us through the express consent and intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Why then, I ask, should any lesser grace come to mankind in any other way?
What we Catholics await, though, (since we know better!) is the pronouncement of the doctrine of the Blessed Mother as Mediatrix of all Grace. I'm sure that there are profound theological arguments in favour of this doctrine but really, we can prove this is so with simple logic. I doubt if many, if any, Christians would deny that the most stupendous of all graces of all time, the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, as a man, came to us through the express consent and intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Why then, I ask, should any lesser grace come to mankind in any other way?
Thursday, April 17, 2014
"Late at Night"
JMJ. Ever since I retired almost 3 years ago now, I find myself staying up a little bit later than I was ever wont to do before. The night seems so clean compared to the day--so few people out and about; so few distractions. So, right before bed I walk the dog.
Tully, one of our older ferrets, likes to help. Well, let me explain that. Tully loves to go outside. He also has an adrenal tumour which has caused him to lose most of the hair in his coat which leaves him looking pretty naked. He's beginning to grow some back, though, so he just looks like a ferret with a Mohawk of hair down his back and pinkish sueded skin elsewhere. So, since it's starting to get a little warmer now, I let him help walk Linus.
Which means that I put Linus' collar and leash on him and tuck Tully under my arm under my jacket and he keeps me company while we're out for Linus' late-night constitutional. Well, a couple of nights ago we had a full moon and a pretty clear sky. Now, normally I associate the moon in any of its phases as a symbol of our Blessed Mother since the light She provides us is not Her own but Her reflection of the light provided by Her Son.
That night however Linus, and Tully, and I were treated to a huge, resplendent orb hanging in the night sky with (thanks to the haze) an enormous halo around it. It looked for all the world like a pale golden monstrance without a pedestal and Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament shone down upon the three of us! Gotta take Tully out more often. He loves this almost as much as I do.
Tully, one of our older ferrets, likes to help. Well, let me explain that. Tully loves to go outside. He also has an adrenal tumour which has caused him to lose most of the hair in his coat which leaves him looking pretty naked. He's beginning to grow some back, though, so he just looks like a ferret with a Mohawk of hair down his back and pinkish sueded skin elsewhere. So, since it's starting to get a little warmer now, I let him help walk Linus.
Which means that I put Linus' collar and leash on him and tuck Tully under my arm under my jacket and he keeps me company while we're out for Linus' late-night constitutional. Well, a couple of nights ago we had a full moon and a pretty clear sky. Now, normally I associate the moon in any of its phases as a symbol of our Blessed Mother since the light She provides us is not Her own but Her reflection of the light provided by Her Son.
That night however Linus, and Tully, and I were treated to a huge, resplendent orb hanging in the night sky with (thanks to the haze) an enormous halo around it. It looked for all the world like a pale golden monstrance without a pedestal and Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament shone down upon the three of us! Gotta take Tully out more often. He loves this almost as much as I do.
Monday, February 10, 2014
"Enemy Territory"
JMJ. You can always tell when you're in enemy territory, behind enemy lines. Easy. Most everyone you encounter is trying to kill you. Usually, too, the enemy doesn't think like you, believe as you, nor often look like you do. A goodly number of years ago, as an example, the U.S. was embroiled in an unfriendly situation in Southeast Asia. The people shooting at us didn't look the least like us. They were generally shorter, more slender, had darker hair and skin, and shot at us. Simple.
I would not have wanted to be Vietnamese, though. I mean you have a chance meeting with someone in the jungle who looks somewhat similar to you. Now--do you shoot first or offer the guy a cigarette? See what I mean? Kind of an iffy situation and if you guess wrong you probably won't get a chance to guess again.
We've got a nasty, dirty, and dangerous situation going on in this country now. We're at war with folks who look just like us and are all around us--they may be family members, neighbors, and the enemy most assuredly runs our government. The good guys are surrounded by the enemy and we're behind their lines. They think nothing like us, believe in nothing that we do, hold nothing that we do sacred, and will cheerfully stick a knife between our ribs if given half a chance.
How can you know him? He will smile at you, he will say he has your best interests at heart. He wants to keep you safe and warm and healthy. You don't need your guns, there's nothing to fear, the nice doctor will make your baby go away. If you feel a cold breath on the back of your neck there's nothing to fear--no need for prayers to a God who's of no value. Is your spouse in a vegetative state? Don't worry, we'll put him or her out of our misery. Are your children acting up? We'll deal with them, too. Do you feel too depressed to go on any more? We've got a pill that will help you leave your mortal coils behind. We are the Culture of Death and we want to help you.
Yes. They've sold their souls for a crust of bread and a little bit of power. They surround us, they are the slaves of the Evil One and most don't even know they're doing his will. How do we fight back, how do we protect ourselves? It'll seem counterintuitive for someone who's been in a hot war zone but here it is...Don't hide, don't blend in, don't keep your values to yourself. Praise God every day. Pray for all you're worth. And whatever you do--don't despair. Many will die; WE may die. But we will triumph over them in the end.
You must know your enemy! Be stealthy, be wise, be very cautious. But rejoice. The victory is eventually ours.
I would not have wanted to be Vietnamese, though. I mean you have a chance meeting with someone in the jungle who looks somewhat similar to you. Now--do you shoot first or offer the guy a cigarette? See what I mean? Kind of an iffy situation and if you guess wrong you probably won't get a chance to guess again.
We've got a nasty, dirty, and dangerous situation going on in this country now. We're at war with folks who look just like us and are all around us--they may be family members, neighbors, and the enemy most assuredly runs our government. The good guys are surrounded by the enemy and we're behind their lines. They think nothing like us, believe in nothing that we do, hold nothing that we do sacred, and will cheerfully stick a knife between our ribs if given half a chance.
How can you know him? He will smile at you, he will say he has your best interests at heart. He wants to keep you safe and warm and healthy. You don't need your guns, there's nothing to fear, the nice doctor will make your baby go away. If you feel a cold breath on the back of your neck there's nothing to fear--no need for prayers to a God who's of no value. Is your spouse in a vegetative state? Don't worry, we'll put him or her out of our misery. Are your children acting up? We'll deal with them, too. Do you feel too depressed to go on any more? We've got a pill that will help you leave your mortal coils behind. We are the Culture of Death and we want to help you.
Yes. They've sold their souls for a crust of bread and a little bit of power. They surround us, they are the slaves of the Evil One and most don't even know they're doing his will. How do we fight back, how do we protect ourselves? It'll seem counterintuitive for someone who's been in a hot war zone but here it is...Don't hide, don't blend in, don't keep your values to yourself. Praise God every day. Pray for all you're worth. And whatever you do--don't despair. Many will die; WE may die. But we will triumph over them in the end.
You must know your enemy! Be stealthy, be wise, be very cautious. But rejoice. The victory is eventually ours.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
"Welcoming an Angel?"
JMJ.
I had to run into the hospital today. Just picked up a prescription, but I ran up to the endoscopy unit where I used to work to say "hi" to anyone still at work but everyone had gone home. I passed a guy in the hall who was walking out. Hobbling, actually. He was probably about forty but looked sixty and was barely mobile with a cane. He looked as if walking were the ultimate torture and I admit to wondering what had happened.
Well, some twenty minutes later I'd completed all I had to do and collected my car from the parking garage. I hadn't gone more than a quarter mile from the hospital when I passed this poor guy making his painful way. I had not but passed him when my dear guardian angel, Cornelius, kinda poked me in the ribs to get my attention so I turned the car around and headed back.
I don't normally make a point of picking up strangers but I doubted that even if he meant me ill that he could do anything serious. Frankly, he looked like a good stiff wind could blow him over. I hollered out the window to ask if he needed a ride and he nodded with apparent relief. He labouriously got in and stuck out his hand and introduced himself as Kevin. I asked how far he was going and it turned out to be right up the street. Turns out he'd been involved in a bad accident 8 1/2 years ago and he said most of his spine was either fused or metal.
I told him that my wife has M.S. and that I try to be aware of others with disabilities which was why I picked him up. As he was getting out of the car he told me how much he appreciated the lift and said, "I'm sorry about your wife." Now the reason for this story is not to make myself out to be someone I'm not but to point out how sometimes heaven puts folks in our paths as an opportunity for us to do something nice for others. Was he an angel I ministered to? I doubt it. I'm not that fortunate. But he COULD have been. I remember thinking how heavy his cross seemed to be and how heavy my wife's is. And then I thought, "If I want to see heavy, all I have to do is look at a crucifix."
I had to run into the hospital today. Just picked up a prescription, but I ran up to the endoscopy unit where I used to work to say "hi" to anyone still at work but everyone had gone home. I passed a guy in the hall who was walking out. Hobbling, actually. He was probably about forty but looked sixty and was barely mobile with a cane. He looked as if walking were the ultimate torture and I admit to wondering what had happened.
Well, some twenty minutes later I'd completed all I had to do and collected my car from the parking garage. I hadn't gone more than a quarter mile from the hospital when I passed this poor guy making his painful way. I had not but passed him when my dear guardian angel, Cornelius, kinda poked me in the ribs to get my attention so I turned the car around and headed back.
I don't normally make a point of picking up strangers but I doubted that even if he meant me ill that he could do anything serious. Frankly, he looked like a good stiff wind could blow him over. I hollered out the window to ask if he needed a ride and he nodded with apparent relief. He labouriously got in and stuck out his hand and introduced himself as Kevin. I asked how far he was going and it turned out to be right up the street. Turns out he'd been involved in a bad accident 8 1/2 years ago and he said most of his spine was either fused or metal.
I told him that my wife has M.S. and that I try to be aware of others with disabilities which was why I picked him up. As he was getting out of the car he told me how much he appreciated the lift and said, "I'm sorry about your wife." Now the reason for this story is not to make myself out to be someone I'm not but to point out how sometimes heaven puts folks in our paths as an opportunity for us to do something nice for others. Was he an angel I ministered to? I doubt it. I'm not that fortunate. But he COULD have been. I remember thinking how heavy his cross seemed to be and how heavy my wife's is. And then I thought, "If I want to see heavy, all I have to do is look at a crucifix."
"Walking the Dog"
JMJ.
Every night I do the same things--I give our boy Tully (the ferret) his medication, I put him in a carry-sack around my neck, and then he and I walk Linus. Linus gets to smell other dogs and water the trees, Tully gets a ride and the smell of the outdoors in his nose, and I get a little exercise. At midnight it's a peaceful and serene time.
It's been cloudy here in Berea the last few nights and generally rainy, too. Imagine my surprise when I exited the garage and was met with a comparatively well-lit neighborhood. I had completely forgotten the imminence of a full moon! There she was, hanging brightly above the branches of a nearby maple. The moon was so bright that the night was a supernal indigo. Like a lens will focus and burn a hole in a piece of paper during the day, the majesty of our Blessed Mother seemed to have burnt a huge hole in the very fabric of the sky.
From where She might be seated next to Her Son, She had focused and reflected His Divine Light upon a hushed world. Wow!
Every night I do the same things--I give our boy Tully (the ferret) his medication, I put him in a carry-sack around my neck, and then he and I walk Linus. Linus gets to smell other dogs and water the trees, Tully gets a ride and the smell of the outdoors in his nose, and I get a little exercise. At midnight it's a peaceful and serene time.
It's been cloudy here in Berea the last few nights and generally rainy, too. Imagine my surprise when I exited the garage and was met with a comparatively well-lit neighborhood. I had completely forgotten the imminence of a full moon! There she was, hanging brightly above the branches of a nearby maple. The moon was so bright that the night was a supernal indigo. Like a lens will focus and burn a hole in a piece of paper during the day, the majesty of our Blessed Mother seemed to have burnt a huge hole in the very fabric of the sky.
From where She might be seated next to Her Son, She had focused and reflected His Divine Light upon a hushed world. Wow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)