If thou hast not devotion, but rather feelest thyself dry, be instant in prayer, cease not to groan and knock; cease not until thou prevail to obtain some crumb or drop of saving grace...On the way to the Communion service this morning at the nursing home, I was skimming a piece in Magnificat, where someone spoke of awareness of her unworthiness before the enormity of the gift of the Eucharist, but the encouragement she received by reading St Faustina, b recognizing that the Body and Blood of Christ are also a remedy, which reminded me a little of earlier parts of the fourth book of Imitation of Christ, the one on the Blessed sacrament.
Thou comest that thou mayest be sanctified by Me, and be united
to Me; that thou mayest receive fresh grace, and be kindled anew
to amendment of life. ....But thou oughtest not only to prepare thyself for devotion before Communion, thou must also keep thyself with all diligence therein after receiving the Sacrament; nor is less watchfulness needed afterwards, than devout preparation beforehand: for good watchfulness afterwards becometh in turn the best preparation for the gaining more grace.
Universalis, your very own breviary in pixels...
Saturday, 21 June 2014
Word of Encouragement Before Communion, and Admonition of How One Should Comport Oneself Afterwards, on the Eve of Corpus Christi
From Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ:
Is this going to become a thing?
I've never been good at the "Where were you when......?" game.
I don't remember what I was doing when Reagan was shot, or when I heard that St John Paul had been elected, or that Kurt Cobain or Elvis died.
Now, with 24/7 news' need to fill air time, there is a constant aggrandising of odd anniversaries of even minor events. Can you believe it's been 23 years? tune in tonight when Anderson Cooper presents an hour devoted to the anniversary of the opening of the Megalo-mart in West Podunk!
LA Weekly remembers, and I guess expects you to remember, Where were you when O.J. fled? as if that's a thing.
Oddly enough, that's something I actually do remember with precision, because after a show, a cast of which I was a member had all gone out together for a drink, like any sports bar, this place had a zillion screens and every one was tuned to the chase of the Explorer, or Suburban, and, as it happens, someone in the cast was not entertained, (was the Simpson murder and trial what turned tragedy and ugliness into "info-tainment" for America?) he knew Simpson, he had been in rehab with Simpson.
(I also remember where I was when Michael Jackson died, because we were getting ready for a liturgy in the chapel at Loyola during a CMAA Colloquium, and some idiot had news on his phone and somehow thought that was important enough to share, that we all needed to know.)
I don't remember what I was doing when Reagan was shot, or when I heard that St John Paul had been elected, or that Kurt Cobain or Elvis died.
Now, with 24/7 news' need to fill air time, there is a constant aggrandising of odd anniversaries of even minor events. Can you believe it's been 23 years? tune in tonight when Anderson Cooper presents an hour devoted to the anniversary of the opening of the Megalo-mart in West Podunk!
LA Weekly remembers, and I guess expects you to remember, Where were you when O.J. fled? as if that's a thing.
Oddly enough, that's something I actually do remember with precision, because after a show, a cast of which I was a member had all gone out together for a drink, like any sports bar, this place had a zillion screens and every one was tuned to the chase of the Explorer, or Suburban, and, as it happens, someone in the cast was not entertained, (was the Simpson murder and trial what turned tragedy and ugliness into "info-tainment" for America?) he knew Simpson, he had been in rehab with Simpson.
(I also remember where I was when Michael Jackson died, because we were getting ready for a liturgy in the chapel at Loyola during a CMAA Colloquium, and some idiot had news on his phone and somehow thought that was important enough to share, that we all needed to know.)
And some very fine TV....
I don't seem to be able to find a longer clip but the scene of Cardinal Fisher going to his death in The Tudors was one of the most powerful and beautiful depictions of courageous martyrdom ever committed to film.
When he asked the people for their help in praying that he would have the strength for what lay ahead, there cannot have been a viewer who did not weep.
We were fortunate enough to see this fine, fine actor, Bosco Hogan, on stage in Dublin years ago, can't remember which Brian Friel play.
From a semon of St John's:
our Your Church.)
When he asked the people for their help in praying that he would have the strength for what lay ahead, there cannot have been a viewer who did not weep.
We were fortunate enough to see this fine, fine actor, Bosco Hogan, on stage in Dublin years ago, can't remember which Brian Friel play.
From a semon of St John's:
Lord, according to Thy promise that the Gospel should be preached throughout the whole world, raise up men fit for such work.St John Fisher, pray for us! (I think we have quite enough of the slippery and soft in leadership positions in
The Apostles were but soft and yielding clay till they were baked hard by the fire of the Holy Ghost.
So, good Lord, do now in like manner with Thy Church militant, change and make the soft and slippery earth into hard stones.
Set in the Thy Church strong and mighty pillars that may suffer and endure great labors--watching, poverty, thirst, hunger, cold and heat--which also shall not fear the threatenings of princes, persecution, neither death, but always persuade and think with themselves to suffer with a good will, slanders, shame, and all kinds of torments, for the glory and laud of Thy Holy Name.
By this manner, good Lord, the truth of Thy Gospel shall be preached throughout the world. Therefore, merciful Lord, exercise Thy mercy, show it indeed upon Thy Church. Amen
Worst TV show ever?
I saw a bit of something called Dominion last night.
I figured it was pretty awful, but might be fun?
There are times when I can really get down with some awful tv.
Martial angels, and a Road Warrior-esque dystopian future?
Gaudy, depressing, over-the-top art direction that gives a nod to both Blade Runner AND Showgirls? (Very nearly the best and worst movies ever made?)
That's a head mix.
(I hadn't known of certain aspects of the plot beforehand, such as the fact that the "god" is MIA, or that there is a new creepy Las Vegas religion.)
A review I'd come across said, in so many words, that Dominion was so bad it couldn't even be made into a drinking game, that if you dared try, you would make yourself sick and die alone.
Now, as someone whose tastes in both televised and alcoholic entertainment are so unformed she has no trouble sipping Chateau de Boîte en Carton, I could almost have looked on that as a challenge.
I mean nothing could be as bad as the reviewer said, right?
Omiwerd, it was worse.
I was very, very sorry for the actors I recognized, but everybody need to eat and pay their health insurance premiums, I suppose.
Can't remember, but I think one of these was in it:
I figured it was pretty awful, but might be fun?
There are times when I can really get down with some awful tv.
Martial angels, and a Road Warrior-esque dystopian future?
Gaudy, depressing, over-the-top art direction that gives a nod to both Blade Runner AND Showgirls? (Very nearly the best and worst movies ever made?)
That's a head mix.
(I hadn't known of certain aspects of the plot beforehand, such as the fact that the "god" is MIA, or that there is a new creepy Las Vegas religion.)
A review I'd come across said, in so many words, that Dominion was so bad it couldn't even be made into a drinking game, that if you dared try, you would make yourself sick and die alone.
Now, as someone whose tastes in both televised and alcoholic entertainment are so unformed she has no trouble sipping Chateau de Boîte en Carton, I could almost have looked on that as a challenge.
I mean nothing could be as bad as the reviewer said, right?
Omiwerd, it was worse.
I was very, very sorry for the actors I recognized, but everybody need to eat and pay their health insurance premiums, I suppose.
Can't remember, but I think one of these was in it:
“I think bad taste is vulgar — it’s like cursing. I believe the world can be saved by design because what is the most vulgar thing someone could do? Kill someone, so good taste is the opposite of that”
Isn't it nice that there is now a strong public voice to decry the coarsening of our culture?
Guess who spoke those words of wisdom in the header?
Well, as it happens, it was the arbiter of taste and pop culture who wrote and recorded this:
Guess who spoke those words of wisdom in the header?
Well, as it happens, it was the arbiter of taste and pop culture who wrote and recorded this:
Come and meet me in the bathroom stall
And show me why you deserve to have it all
Bxxx so hard
That sxxx cray (that sxxx cray), ain’t it Jay?
Bxxx so hard
What she order (what she order), fish filet
Bxxx so hard
Your whip so cold (whip so cold), this old thing
Bxxx so hard
Act like you’ll never be around mxx-fxxxxs like this again
Bougie girl, grab her hand
Fxxx that bxxxx she don’t wanna dance
Excuse my French but I’m in France (I’m just sayin’)
Prince William’s ain’t do it right if you ask me
Cause I was him I would have married Kate 'n' Ashley
What's Gucci my nxxxx?
What's Louis my killa?
What's drugs my deala?
What's that jacket, Margiela?
Doctors say I’m the illest
Cause I’m suffering from realness
Got my nxxxxs in Paris
And they going gorillas, huh!
Friday, 20 June 2014
Not All is Disappointment...
I managed to get through Mass without bobbling Jehosheba, Baal, Athaliah, Ahaziah, Jehoram, Joash or Jehoiada.
(So yeah, maybe I got cocky -- "as was the custom" tipped me up.)
As the deacon like to remind me, as old as they might be, no one in the congregation has ever known any of those people personally.
(So yeah, maybe I got cocky -- "as was the custom" tipped me up.)
As the deacon like to remind me, as old as they might be, no one in the congregation has ever known any of those people personally.
So they say...
So I'm driving along and some caterwauling comes on the Catholic station to which I'm listing and I switch to the local classical, and something beautiful and choral is on, and I recognize the harmonies as Laurdisen's, and suddenly realize, ah, these must be the Rose Songs, I've only really heard the last one, and suddenly I am sobbing.
Sobbing, and sobbing, as if my heart is broken, and this wave of... what? regret?
Yes, a kind of tender and resigned regret.
And I continue weeping and weeping, and I don't know why, I barely know the music, don't even know the words other than the title, but I cannot contain what is inside me.
Why, what is it? I have nothing to regret. I'm still in mourning for a death, but there was nothing left unsaid, nothing unfinished.
But somehow, the tune? the chords? regardless of the creators' intent, (it's a love osn,g no?) I don't know but the entire piece is such a lamnet...
It speaks to me, I hear it in my heart, it feel like a dagger
What am I feeling, pangs of remorse? disappointment?
Sobbing, and sobbing, as if my heart is broken, and this wave of... what? regret?
Yes, a kind of tender and resigned regret.
And I continue weeping and weeping, and I don't know why, I barely know the music, don't even know the words other than the title, but I cannot contain what is inside me.
Why, what is it? I have nothing to regret. I'm still in mourning for a death, but there was nothing left unsaid, nothing unfinished.
But somehow, the tune? the chords? regardless of the creators' intent, (it's a love osn,g no?) I don't know but the entire piece is such a lamnet...
It speaks to me, I hear it in my heart, it feel like a dagger
What am I feeling, pangs of remorse? disappointment?
Breadmakers are not "frugal," are they?
I am the cheapest person you know, a complete skinflint, so I read things like The Tightwad Gazette, and Tip Hero in my quest for frugality.
In one story on the latter, I read, "A $9 bread machine from Goodwill has saved literally hundreds on baked goods alone."
But while a bread maker is a wonderful, time-saving, or fill-your-house-with-homey-aromas thing, (and $9 for one you like is a great find,) I do not buy that it is any kind of money savor -- even buying supplies in the greatest bulk I reasonably can (five pound bag of yeast at GFS, anyone?) unless my math is very bad, (possible,) I can always find bread on sale cheaper than I can make it.
I suppose if you compare it to bakery or gourmet shop bread...
That said, good reasons to make your own bread include the shortest time interval possible, between being assailed by that wondrous yeasty fragrance and actually stuffing some of that goodness in your mouth; and making it with exactly the ingredients you want, and none of those you don't.
Do you know how hard it is to find a multi-grain loaf with no corn? (I admit, I really, really, REALLY miss Anadama bread, but allergies is allergies. I've been meaning to try to achieve a reasonable facsimile with millet, or something.)
In one story on the latter, I read, "A $9 bread machine from Goodwill has saved literally hundreds on baked goods alone."
But while a bread maker is a wonderful, time-saving, or fill-your-house-with-homey-aromas thing, (and $9 for one you like is a great find,) I do not buy that it is any kind of money savor -- even buying supplies in the greatest bulk I reasonably can (five pound bag of yeast at GFS, anyone?) unless my math is very bad, (possible,) I can always find bread on sale cheaper than I can make it.
I suppose if you compare it to bakery or gourmet shop bread...
That said, good reasons to make your own bread include the shortest time interval possible, between being assailed by that wondrous yeasty fragrance and actually stuffing some of that goodness in your mouth; and making it with exactly the ingredients you want, and none of those you don't.
Do you know how hard it is to find a multi-grain loaf with no corn? (I admit, I really, really, REALLY miss Anadama bread, but allergies is allergies. I've been meaning to try to achieve a reasonable facsimile with millet, or something.)
Thursday, 19 June 2014
"But everyone else is...."
(The voice of Scelata's Mom whispers in her memory, "Well, if everyone else were jumping off a bridge...")
Perhaps I would have had more success had I importuned her, "But Mom, you don't want to be on the wrong side of history, do you?"
Sometimes it seems as if the arguments being made about a thousand and one current hot button, (or cool button,) issues amount to little more than that "everyone else" thinks/feels/believes thus-and-such a way, why can't YOU?
(You Catholic, you Democrat, you classical fan, you prude, you golf fan, you preferrer of coffee ice cream to chocolate, you....)
My family, and I am sure, consequently, I myself, are great offenders in this regard, we can't BELIEVE our auditors don't agree with us, and our tone of voice is as likely to convey contempt as surprise.
I try not to, but sometimes I don't really notice myself doing it.
I am a great not-noticer.
My "what?" in response to Himself's suggestion as to who would be perfection cast in a specific role in a movie that had been announced must have been, I realize in retrospect more of a "WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!??@??$??%!!!!!!?????" than a "what?"
What I then failed to notice was that he had stopped talking to me, and his silence lasted the next 300 miles as we drove cross country.
The "but everyone else" line of reasoned argument is now often phrased, "you are on the wrong side of history," as if what seemed to be happening was ipso facto what should be happening.
It's a foolish, panglossian thing to say -- do you suppose Hindenburg finally gave in and appointed Hitler as chancellor because enough people had told him he was "on the wrong side of history"?
As much as the chattering class likes to use the "wrong side of history" cliche, it is no more cogent an argument than "but, Mom, everyone else is in favor of same-sex 'marriage'," would be.
Although so-called "marraige equality" wasn't really what I was thinking about -- I was thinking about the admittance to Communion of those who are in "irregular" situations.
I am worried by the sloppy thought, or so it seems to me, of Cdl. Kasper.
To paraphrase a moe auust Cardinal, St John Fisher, (whose feast day is this Sunday,) even if all the experts and wise people, and all of the other people of the world, from the beginning of time until now, joined with the entire consent of the arbiters of the Zeitgeist, I must account my own side, if it is what my faith, and my Faith tell me, much the surer.
But I am not alone in my stance, I am happy, nay, relieved to say.
The Prayer of St John Fisher -
Perhaps I would have had more success had I importuned her, "But Mom, you don't want to be on the wrong side of history, do you?"
Sometimes it seems as if the arguments being made about a thousand and one current hot button, (or cool button,) issues amount to little more than that "everyone else" thinks/feels/believes thus-and-such a way, why can't YOU?
(You Catholic, you Democrat, you classical fan, you prude, you golf fan, you preferrer of coffee ice cream to chocolate, you....)
My family, and I am sure, consequently, I myself, are great offenders in this regard, we can't BELIEVE our auditors don't agree with us, and our tone of voice is as likely to convey contempt as surprise.
I try not to, but sometimes I don't really notice myself doing it.
I am a great not-noticer.
My "what?" in response to Himself's suggestion as to who would be perfection cast in a specific role in a movie that had been announced must have been, I realize in retrospect more of a "WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!??@??$??%!!!!!!?????" than a "what?"
What I then failed to notice was that he had stopped talking to me, and his silence lasted the next 300 miles as we drove cross country.
The "but everyone else" line of reasoned argument is now often phrased, "you are on the wrong side of history," as if what seemed to be happening was ipso facto what should be happening.
It's a foolish, panglossian thing to say -- do you suppose Hindenburg finally gave in and appointed Hitler as chancellor because enough people had told him he was "on the wrong side of history"?
As much as the chattering class likes to use the "wrong side of history" cliche, it is no more cogent an argument than "but, Mom, everyone else is in favor of same-sex 'marriage'," would be.
Although so-called "marraige equality" wasn't really what I was thinking about -- I was thinking about the admittance to Communion of those who are in "irregular" situations.
I am worried by the sloppy thought, or so it seems to me, of Cdl. Kasper.
To paraphrase a moe auust Cardinal, St John Fisher, (whose feast day is this Sunday,) even if all the experts and wise people, and all of the other people of the world, from the beginning of time until now, joined with the entire consent of the arbiters of the Zeitgeist, I must account my own side, if it is what my faith, and my Faith tell me, much the surer.
But I am not alone in my stance, I am happy, nay, relieved to say.
The Prayer of St John Fisher -
Good Lord, set in thy Church
strong and mighty pillars
that may suffer and endure great labours,
which also shall not fear persecution,
neither death,
but always suffer with a good will,
slanders, shame and all kinds of torments,
for the glory and praise of thy holy Name.
By this manner, good Lord,
the truth of thy Gospel
shall be preached throughout the world.Therefore, merciful Lord, exercise thy mercy,
show it indeed upon thy Church.
Amen.
How Easily My Mind Wonders, and Why I Need Sanctus Bells
"Oh, gee, I forgot, Mr. D doesn't kneelI'll just slide over into the next section of the pew and lower the kneelerWhat was I thinking tailoring the legs on a pair of heavy duty mens' jeans there's no spandex so a skinny leg isn't going to have room to bend at the knee properlyWho left that hymnal thereWhat in the world were they thinking repairing the spine with packing tapeThat was a lot of wok taping up all the choir hymnals that timeI wonder if the rise of the e-book has hurt Demco's businessI ought to give everyone on my Christmas list hinge tapeIf we have fewer actual books it stands to reason that the ones we do choose to possess will be all the more precious and importantI love that red tape I used to fix the sacramentaryOh bells -- I'M AT MASS THIS IS THE CONSECRATION WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME!!!!!!!!"
Incidentally, everyone SHOULD get themselves a roll of this stuff, (I think the Tyvek tape may be in theory a cut above, but I really love the paper hinge tape.)
If you have it, don't wait until you beat up a book, when you acquire something that you know will get a lot of wear, such as a basic cookbook, or a hymnal, or a dictionary, give it a little reinforcement right off the bat.
If you know yourself, and that you're going to jam a finger in the top of the spine to yank a heavy volume out a little on the shelf get some wings, I think they are called, too.
Incidentally, everyone SHOULD get themselves a roll of this stuff, (I think the Tyvek tape may be in theory a cut above, but I really love the paper hinge tape.)
If you know yourself, and that you're going to jam a finger in the top of the spine to yank a heavy volume out a little on the shelf get some wings, I think they are called, too.
Tuesday, 17 June 2014
Suspension of Disbelief
I had forgotten, when doing all that thinking rambling about trouser roles and other forms of stage impersonation the very fine Salzburg production of Traviata, modern dress and a starkly evocative set with a giant clock, a very hot Anna Netrebko and a very hot-headed Rolando Villazon [sp?] The violence in his attack on Violetta in the third act was appalling.
Anyway, my point, and I did have one, was that the entire mixed chorus of the first act had been (costumed and made up as) men, all these men in suits, all these respectable johns.
It made it clear that both the prostitute's seeming power over and her ultimate subjugation by society were a function of her sex. (Not sure what Flora's deal was.... cross-dresser? lesbian? pimp? performer? no matter.)
Very effective.
A review of the Traviata in Paris, starring the absolutely glorious Diana Damrau, (seriously, can she do anything wrong? surely the finest, most versatile soprano in the opera world today,) mentioned that they had garbed the chorus similarly in the first act, (though this was a period piece, even -- wonder of wonders! -- the period specified by the creators!) everyone dressed as a man.
BUT -- it said that in the 3d act, (or is it the 2nd scene of the 2nd act?) the gypsy dancers were males in dresses. Okay, that piques my curiosity, I go hunting for video or photos.... well, there's another bit of impersonation.
The sets seem as if they would be striking in performance, and very serviceable, extremely simple, but just as sumptuous as they are simple -- a single massive staircase, a single massive tree and a single massive bed.
Hanging over the headboard as part of the beswagged bed is this Manet painting.
Ah, okay, a prostitute, (as if we, or any of Violetta's clients would be unaware....) And it seems in this production, Annina is a black maid, costumed and given headgear approximating the servant in the painting.
The singer's name is unfamiliar to me, and her surname gives me no hint of ethnicity. Hmmm, is that African?
No, it seems she is Rumanian.
Which means, she is, essentially, performing in black-face.
I gather that does not cause the hand-wringing and column inch-chewing it would in the US.
Anyway, my point, and I did have one, was that the entire mixed chorus of the first act had been (costumed and made up as) men, all these men in suits, all these respectable johns.
It made it clear that both the prostitute's seeming power over and her ultimate subjugation by society were a function of her sex. (Not sure what Flora's deal was.... cross-dresser? lesbian? pimp? performer? no matter.)
Very effective.
A review of the Traviata in Paris, starring the absolutely glorious Diana Damrau, (seriously, can she do anything wrong? surely the finest, most versatile soprano in the opera world today,) mentioned that they had garbed the chorus similarly in the first act, (though this was a period piece, even -- wonder of wonders! -- the period specified by the creators!) everyone dressed as a man.
BUT -- it said that in the 3d act, (or is it the 2nd scene of the 2nd act?) the gypsy dancers were males in dresses. Okay, that piques my curiosity, I go hunting for video or photos.... well, there's another bit of impersonation.
The sets seem as if they would be striking in performance, and very serviceable, extremely simple, but just as sumptuous as they are simple -- a single massive staircase, a single massive tree and a single massive bed.
Hanging over the headboard as part of the beswagged bed is this Manet painting.
Ah, okay, a prostitute, (as if we, or any of Violetta's clients would be unaware....) And it seems in this production, Annina is a black maid, costumed and given headgear approximating the servant in the painting.
The singer's name is unfamiliar to me, and her surname gives me no hint of ethnicity. Hmmm, is that African?
No, it seems she is Rumanian.
Which means, she is, essentially, performing in black-face.
I gather that does not cause the hand-wringing and column inch-chewing it would in the US.
Is the Concept of Respectable and Respectful Dress Completey Subjective?
I had written a kind of long post about the whining that is going on about young women's clothing, and the arguing about whether telling them they they could save themselves a lot of heartache by dressing less provacatively is "slut-shamming" and "victim-bashing," but I've put it on hold...
A friend of a friend is all het up because her 12-ish daughter was made to cover up because her school outfit was brandishing bra-straps.
Is this a feminist issue?
Is that really a discriminatory rule? That your underwear can't show?
Is that a random "fashion" rule of the sort that kept male and female tennis players alike in floor length wool?
Or am I turning into my grandmother -- you can't wear blue jeans into the "city"!
A friend of a friend is all het up because her 12-ish daughter was made to cover up because her school outfit was brandishing bra-straps.
Is this a feminist issue?
Is that really a discriminatory rule? That your underwear can't show?
Is that a random "fashion" rule of the sort that kept male and female tennis players alike in floor length wool?
Or am I turning into my grandmother -- you can't wear blue jeans into the "city"!
Vocation Shortage? No, Vocation Boom.... or rather, Vocation Boom-Boom
An article about identical twins about to be ordained.
The Koenigsknecht family through the years has certainly done their part for Mother Church, uncles and cousins, and....
But even more astounding is their parish, in fact, their area of Michigan, where two tiny farm towns have given the People of God 44, yes, that's right, 44 priests over the years, (this is stretching back to the 1830s.) These 2 towns have a combined population of fewer than 2000 people.)
As a point of reference, my former town was considered a vocations hotbed, remarkable for, since it's founding around 1900, for having had 14 or so "sons of the parish[es]" ordained, and this a town of around 5000.
The Lansing Journal covers the story too, and tells us that the Diocese of Lansing has five new priests this year, well done, I think, for one of its size.
We spent four months or so in that diocese once year, and as I recall, parish hopping f a Sunday morn, (which I love to do when traveling,) was not quite the crap shoot it was in many places.
We seldom, if ever that I recall, found ourselves in the middle of a bizarre Mass, as was so often the case in many parts of the country; no puppet sermons, no self-hypnosis, no skull-splitter "liturgical" music, no "progressive" ceremonies, ("progressive" in the sense of "progressive dinner" where one moves from one place to another for each course, and it wasn't Palm Sunday or the Paschal Vigil...) -- and yes, I encountered all of these.
The NY Times has an article on this as well.
I am certain the large families are an important factor in this presbyteral bounty, but I must wonder if smaller parishes aren't a major part of helping young men discern a calling, by each member of the church having a closer connection with the pastor.
In which case, the trend to mega-churchdom because of a vocations shortage becomes a vicious cycle.
The Koenigsknecht family through the years has certainly done their part for Mother Church, uncles and cousins, and....
But even more astounding is their parish, in fact, their area of Michigan, where two tiny farm towns have given the People of God 44, yes, that's right, 44 priests over the years, (this is stretching back to the 1830s.) These 2 towns have a combined population of fewer than 2000 people.)
As a point of reference, my former town was considered a vocations hotbed, remarkable for, since it's founding around 1900, for having had 14 or so "sons of the parish[es]" ordained, and this a town of around 5000.
The Lansing Journal covers the story too, and tells us that the Diocese of Lansing has five new priests this year, well done, I think, for one of its size.
We spent four months or so in that diocese once year, and as I recall, parish hopping f a Sunday morn, (which I love to do when traveling,) was not quite the crap shoot it was in many places.
We seldom, if ever that I recall, found ourselves in the middle of a bizarre Mass, as was so often the case in many parts of the country; no puppet sermons, no self-hypnosis, no skull-splitter "liturgical" music, no "progressive" ceremonies, ("progressive" in the sense of "progressive dinner" where one moves from one place to another for each course, and it wasn't Palm Sunday or the Paschal Vigil...) -- and yes, I encountered all of these.
The NY Times has an article on this as well.
I am certain the large families are an important factor in this presbyteral bounty, but I must wonder if smaller parishes aren't a major part of helping young men discern a calling, by each member of the church having a closer connection with the pastor.
In which case, the trend to mega-churchdom because of a vocations shortage becomes a vicious cycle.
Monday, 16 June 2014
Radio
Somehow, (not sure, but let's just say Himself is to blame,) I have been given a little notebook by Arbitron, (I don't think this information is confidential,) to record my radio-listening...
Radio.
Radio???!?#??$??? 2014???
It turns out, I listen more than I would have thought, but only ever in the car.
Since I was never into contemporary popular music, I didn't listen to the radio growing up, although I could probably hum the themes, NOTE FOR NOTE, from the classical program that my Father, (and my Mother too, some,) listened to and the lets-get-ourselves-up-and-out-the-door morning programs that were an invariable part of those two saints getting us dozen brats to school.
In the NY area there are two news stations, (none here,) so when I was on my own I listened to that getting ready to go in the morning, and then only ever the Saturday afternoon Met broadcast.
Now, I must say I am grateful to have a Catholic radio station, that's my default if there is reception, (which I do not pretend to understand, but sometimes I do and sometimes nada.)
Oh, and I'll even leave for mass a few minutes earlier than necessary Sunday Morning to catch more of Pipe Dreams Wonderful.
(And I admit that I turn off Catholic radio when they start in on some wretched sacro-pop.)
Radio.
Radio???!?#??$??? 2014???
It turns out, I listen more than I would have thought, but only ever in the car.
Since I was never into contemporary popular music, I didn't listen to the radio growing up, although I could probably hum the themes, NOTE FOR NOTE, from the classical program that my Father, (and my Mother too, some,) listened to and the lets-get-ourselves-up-and-out-the-door morning programs that were an invariable part of those two saints getting us dozen brats to school.
In the NY area there are two news stations, (none here,) so when I was on my own I listened to that getting ready to go in the morning, and then only ever the Saturday afternoon Met broadcast.
Now, I must say I am grateful to have a Catholic radio station, that's my default if there is reception, (which I do not pretend to understand, but sometimes I do and sometimes nada.)
Oh, and I'll even leave for mass a few minutes earlier than necessary Sunday Morning to catch more of Pipe Dreams Wonderful.
(And I admit that I turn off Catholic radio when they start in on some wretched sacro-pop.)
"I don' thin' that word means what you thin' it means...."
Or perhaps I don't know what "marginalized" means.
In the Great Time Suck that is the interwebs, fat-shaming of divas in trouser roles, #okaymaybemostwomen and other laments about marginalization, admiring performances in videos of Le Comte Ory, reading reviews of what looks like a fascinating cabaret, remembering fondly the Elizabethan Blackadder's "Bob", and reading about the, already known to me, British Musical Hall and Panto traditions of Principle Boy, etc., while learning of the hitherto unknown to me existence of Annie Hindle and Ella Wesner, I at last came to theArbiter of All Human Knowledge Wikipedia article on "Drag Kings," wherein we are told they often "portray marginalized masculinities such as construction workers, rappers..."
Huh?
In the Great Time Suck that is the interwebs, fat-shaming of divas in trouser roles, #okaymaybemostwomen and other laments about marginalization, admiring performances in videos of Le Comte Ory, reading reviews of what looks like a fascinating cabaret, remembering fondly the Elizabethan Blackadder's "Bob", and reading about the, already known to me, British Musical Hall and Panto traditions of Principle Boy, etc., while learning of the hitherto unknown to me existence of Annie Hindle and Ella Wesner, I at last came to the
Huh?
Sunday, 15 June 2014
If you have very long hair, you need these...
They are the fastest, neatest way of making a chignon imaginable, (I have stick straight hair, so the ends stick out all over the place if I try to get it up off m back during the dogs days.)
They might be good with medium hair, I don't know.
Conair used to make some too, but as far as I know Goody is the only purveyor of these genius corkscrew pins now.
Islam for Dummies, or Ya Can't Tell the Players Without a Scorecard
I don't mean to make light of the horror and tragedy unfolding in the the Levant, but while I was thinking about beliefs, I really wanted a crash on Sunni/Shiite/Sufi, etc.
This seems to fill the bill.
This seems to fill the bill.
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