My request to Archbishop Viganò: Your help is needed; I’m depending on you.

There is at least one other victim of McCarrick who has not come forward publicly. Recently, at my own expense, I personally brought his case to the Holy Father, bypassing all dicasteries, bypassing the “abuse office” in the CDF, bypassing the Secretariat of State, bypassing the Pontifical Family. I’ve not hidden that fact. The case stunningly confirms timelines, that is, not because it was written up post-Viganò’s open letters, but because immutable facts and immutable consequences and the people involved back in the day also at the nunciature in these USA are immediately available for examination and consultation. This guy knows non-publicized details that only a few individuals know about, who are stunned at the knowledge of the details that couldn’t possibly otherwise have been known by him.

The request of Archbishop Viganò is that anyone able to confirm his testimony publicly do so. So, that request, in part, comes directly to me. The victim is very much considering coming forward publicly. We did put it all before the Holy Father, but…

Here’s the deal: The Holy Father is purposely having this played out in the media. Pope Francis is really good at politics. Unbeatable. He may be letting the likes of Cardinal Ouellet hang himself. Fine. And he would look to be the fool should the case I brought to the Holy Father be publicized in fine detail.

But that’s not enough. This isn’t about Archbishop Viganò being vindicated. It’s about solving the problem, right? So, let’s just say it:

There are other people, other matters. We’re getting to the heart of it all.

I wish I could consult first of all in a private meeting with Archbishop Viganò. If anyone knows how I might go about contacting some third party who might be able to set up such a meeting – I can go anywhere, anytime, quietly – please drop me a line in an email or, if you don’t know that, in the moderated comments of this post (my eyes only).

Let me say that again addressing him personally:

Your Excellency,

What you’ve done on one level sets up bringing this entire matter to another level altogether. There are matters not yet mentioned which would bring this entire decades old scandal full circle, going to the very heart of the matter. I can’t mention those publicly right now. I need your help. I’m depending on you. The two matters I brought to the Holy Father confirming your letters are merely a preliminary. There is so much more, much more devastating, much more cleansing, much more preparatory for evangelizing about Jesus among seminarians, priests and bishops. I repeat: I need your help; I’m depending on you. Might we meet discretely? I ask this in conscience.

In solidarity. Blessings upon you. I beg yours.

Father George David Byers

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Focusing on what’s important edition)

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Saint John of the Cross was one asked as to whether our brains ever calm down a bit in this world, at least while we are praying. There are many who attempt to be free of distraction, you know, by staring at their belly buttons and breathing a certain way and shrieking whatever mantras (sorry, I know I’m mocking here…), as if they could possibly be successful, as if that would be a good thing, or by claiming that they have astro-traveled into nirvana territory by cutting themselves off from God and man, from the heavens and the earth, from themselves, so that they are Styrofoam, as if they could possibly be successful, as if that would be a good thing, and so on. No.

Saint John instructs us by saying the obvious. After original sin part of the cross we carry is that our physical brains don’t follow necessarily where our spiritual life is at. In the highest contemplative prayer with the soul almost as it were in the very midst of the Most Holy Trinity, the physical brain is, of its own accord, going a gazillion miles an hour as usual.

This is important to understand: the saints were all trained into being saints in the midst of these same circumstances of distraction. The saints learned over time, as can we, to let the soul, by grace, give more importance to the Incarnate Word of God who presents us to the Father by the fiery love of the Holy Spirit than whatever other importance we might give to whatever distraction. The distractions continue by we can walk in the presence of the Living God, in His Love, in His Truth, in His Life. It’s all about Jesus, not us. Jesus is the One. The only One. After all, He’s the Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception.

Oh, the flowers? You’ll see in the slideshow up top that they go from being in focus to out of focus, that our Lady goes from being in focus to out of focus. But, here’s the deal: love doesn’t care any longer about bodily senses being in focus or not, but only about love. God is love. Mary’s Son Jesus is more important that us, than our fallen human feelings, than our fallen sensory perception.

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Fr Byers, the FBI investigated you how many times? We want files! My real ID

cia memorial

High pressure repeated request from [ex-?]CIA guy who’s now […] as cover:

“Father Byers, the FBI investigated you how many times? We want files! Who are you, anyway?”

This has been going on for months. Lots of pressure. I really have to give an answer. I’m forced into it. Interesting question. Baiting. Just to see which investigations I know about, if I know what my ID really is. This is always fun, so let’s set out to have some fun! ;-)

Short answer: Who am I? I’m just a POS. But (now speaking to the [ex-?]CIA guy), you tell me. How many FBI investigations? Lol. A lot! I mean, I don’t know. I guess this FBI investigation thing is getting to be a fad with SCOTUS Justice Brett Kavanaugh having undergone fully seven investigations. Which makes me wonder what I myself wrote in year books when I was a kid… I think it was something like “Most likely to become POTUS” for a friend. Ooooo! A national security issue! For a girl I think I wrote: “Most likely to get accepted to Harvard.” She was a brainiac with math. Anyway, I’m guessing I’ve had more FBI investigations than Justice Kavanaugh. But exactly how many times? Great question. Maybe just one, as in lifelong and continuous. And if I could “view” those “files” that would be great! But whoever heard of the one investigated being in charge of the files about himself in FBI repositories or in those famous “ongoing cases”? I’ve been wanting to see all those all my life. Good luck with that. Share them with me when you have them. I myself want to know what agents knew and when, just how much they let the “small” things go, you know, so as to go after the “big fish”, so that then, when push came to shove, those “big fish” were never taken down, you know, for political reasons. If that’s the case.

Anyway…  It’s an incomplete and therefore inadequate question. Just the FBI? Go ahead and include the CIA (“Dedicatio par aevum” memorial pictured up top) and DEA and BATFE and DHS and ICE and TSA and, most importantly, the Department of State, that is, Main State, and a dozen plus other of our agencies and institutes and groups and such. In fact, include all those groups who were subpoenaed but who refused to answer the questions of Jason Chaffetz’s congressional investigation into Fast and Furious. Jason was ignored even though he was Congressional Chairman of Oversight. So, good luck with that, especially since I’ve been told by Main State that anything related to me has long been destroyed, the normal practice upon being placed into a perpetual interdepartmental program. Go ahead and ask for it? Just know you might be asked, with polygraph, why you’re asking. Could be a career ending move, or send you to prison.

My rap sheet: No felonies. No misdemeanors. Ever. Nothing pending. Nothing ever having been pending. No courts. No settlements. And nothing having been “wiped” from the record. Well… There are some things that may have disappeared from my rap sheet as one sheriff told me when I asked him about it – disappeared things such as being pulled over for not wearing a seat belt when I was constantly starting and stopping to deliver meals to the home-bound for the soup kitchen. The cop admitted later that he ticketed me for purely political reasons. Anyway, that citation was, like, seven years ago. I found out that no one knew enough to grant permission about the statute at the time that permitted no usage of a seat belt in such conditions of constant service deliveries with permission. I can recall other times getting pulled over, like when my sister was teaching me to drive when I was twelve years old and I ran a trick stop sign that was posted inches behind a light pole so that it couldn’t be seen. Other occasions do come to mind. For instance, I remember I was going a little fast – like 5 miles over – in making the 1000+ mile trip to my dying dad’s bedside some decades ago. You get the idea.

A longer than short answer:  I guess it would take an autobiography to even scratch the surface. I’ve had a pretty wild life. There was a time when I’m guessing that for a short while I was a most researched person in these USA. But, what do I know? That’s just a guess judging from the blog stats of hits from named and therefore not much secured servers of pretty much every intelligence HQ in these USA and around the world. You know the drill: USAIC, NNIC, DHS, DOD, DOJ, BATFE, IRS[!], SSA[!], FBI, CIA, Interpol, The Hague[!], etc., in so many centers for each all around, making the stats fly, scrolling quickly off screen, zip zip zip. I should see if I still have some screen shots from years gone by. Probably anomalous interest, right? If these were the named hits, I have to wonder what the blind hits were. It is what it is. At any rate, let me guess about a few incidents which may have instigated Federal research now and again.

  • It’s just now two years since I’ve received my concealed carry handgun permit here in NC, which has (in some cases by far) one of the more stringent series of local, state (SBI) and federal (FBI) background checks in these USA, a fact opening up NC to reciprocity in most states of these USA. North Carolina even adds what amounts to presently illegal (because of duration, many months) checks into mental health. At any rate, no records of that for me.
  • I got my Gold-Star driver licence / “Real ID” a few months ago and had to renew again just now in time for the election (good for another 8 years). This involves some pretty stringent background checks as well on Local, State and Federal levels.
  • I’ve been fingerprinted and checked all over the world, not for any particular reason, but just because I happen to be in terribly dangerous places really a lot with lots of terribly dangerous people, people who have killed really a lot of people, or who are in charge of the militaries of their countries, et al. So, it finally becomes the ol’ “Who are you anyway?” kind of thing. Sigh.

  • I’m just now gathering some dates and info and documentation so as to sign up in the near future for Global-Entry, a jacked up version of TSA pre-check which involves checks even more stringent than for the NC firearms checks. G-E involves checks against criminal and law enforcement indices (Federal, State, Local), customs, immigration, agriculture, and terrorist indices including biometric fingerprint checks and a personal interview (That‘s surely a well experienced interrogator). All the checks are not listed here. It’s a pretty long, exhaustive list. Fun!
  • Just because of past lives, as it were, I’ve recently called in some items related to financial groups and terrorism to, for instance – depending on the subject – Main State, Liberty Crossing Campus, the FBI. You can’t do such things without first being extremely thoroughly vetted by the FBI from multiple locations and on all sorts of levels. Fine. These series of checks pretty much add up to joining any of our institutes or agencies minus the polygraph. Thoroughness cannot be underestimated. Oddly, the guy taking the financial case wanted to know about terrorism. I mean, he asked about it like a half dozen times. Oh, I forgot, terrorism and financial malfeasance often go together. My bad.
  • Of course, Main State and the FBI do not put one on a perpetual interdepartmental program for no reason. Once you’re on, you’re on. That’s it, forever, as the FBI strongly insisted with me, drilling this into me. There’s no way off as there’s nothing remaining after destruction of files in order to base a new decision upon. It’s like the seal of confession. Even if the penitent gives you permission to break the seal you can’t break the seal. Someone could be putting him/her under some sort of coercion to request such a thing against his/her will (regardless of what he/she says). The information doesn’t belong to the priest. It belongs to Jesus. The same here: even if I request to get off the program I cannot do so. It’s beyond unmasking. It’s frustrating. Part of the program is to be “accompanied,” even in a terribly annoyingly obvious way, especially at airports and inside airplanes (as I was forewarned about). In analyzing this, the guy I call “The Guy,” told me that this is meant to send a message to the idiots: If you mess around with this guy you will be stopped. However annoying this can be, it’s also kinda nice. This started decades ago, perhaps when I was a teenager, in the mid-late 1970s. I need to write more about it.
  • More recently, seemingly in April of 2018, this was all jacked up a bit. I had gone to FBI ATLANTA to talk about options for that perpetual interdepartmental program mentioned above. I was delayed for some twenty minutes from approaching the security building, that is, until CTU Virginia showed up. We parked together. He accompanied me twice to the security building (as I forgot my passport and had returned to my car to get it). He delivered a printout and entered while I was told to just go to the window. That printout was given to the agent who looked at it, looked at me, looked at it, looked at me, looked at it, looked at me, set it down, shoved it toward me and said that he has no one presently there who can speak to this. I was able to read the author’s name and the provenance of the printout, DOD DARPA. Good old nerdy DARPA. They created some mathematical complexities using massive amounts of intel that they’ve categorized and turned into that which is actionable in the field for whatever “target” they have on “the list.” That, of course, makes me, again, one of the most highly researched people in the world. Huge amounts of resources are used for such targets. I regret that. I assume that this is, for me, to assist in my being “accompanied” (to use Pope Francis terminology). As I’ve written previously, I once told the guy who stole my identity that I regret the cost of such accompaniment, and he instantly cut me off to say that such costs are entirely negligible in view of the scope of the entire program.
  • I’ve been involved in one way or the other in numerous terrorist incidents, enough to be further investigated through the decades by a number of countries, including the Holy See, Italy, these USA, Australia and, with some intensity at the highest military, intelligence levels, Israel. It is what it is. Try asking for their files on me, you know, like in המוסד. Good luck with that one too. I mean, would they give you something that had nothing to do with the real file? ;-) Either way, when you get those files, share them with me! Baiting for leakers is fun! I might even find out what is held to be my real ID. This quickly disintegrates into rabbit holes of counterintel mind games until, gaslighted, one can’t remember who one is anymore:

Having been trained into counterintelligence as a teenager since the time my identity was stolen, I’ve never done the Jason Bourne thing. I never had to.

In all of this, I apologize to sincere and patriotic agents of all our military and intelligence and law enforcement agencies. I poke fun at myself. I don’t mean to poke fun at you.

Meanwhile, a personal theological note, I’m just a POS. Boring. A nothing. Nobody. In all of this poking fun (the whole “Who are you anyway?” thing) I want to make something perfectly clear: I don’t claim to be better than anyone. I’m no saint. I’m just a POS. Boring. A nothing. Nobody. Haven’t you already noticed? The original sin in which I’ve post-hoc participated, and all my own sin, is all written out in the wounds of the Divine Son of God, now risen from the dead. It’s in Him that we find our identity as redeemed and saved so as to walk in humble thanksgiving in His presence, in His friendship. That’s the ID I want to have. Jesus is the One. He’s the only One.

But you can’t get to know Jesus and know who you are, your “real ID” – Jesus’ love and truth and integrity – until you go to Confession. A lot. With sincerity. I do. That’s who I am: just another POS who goes to Confession. Why? Because I know the following and so should we all:

Psalm 139 For the leader. A psalm of David. Oh LORD, you have probed me, you know me: you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My travels and my rest you mark; with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, LORD, you know it all. Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me. Such knowledge is beyond me, far too lofty for me to reach. Where can I hide from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee? If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I lie down in Sheol, you are there too. If I fly with the wings of dawn and alight beyond the sea, Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand hold me fast. If I say, “Surely darkness shall hide me, and night shall be my light” — Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, so wonderfully you made me; wonderful are your works! My very self you knew; my bones were not hidden from you, When I was being made in secret, fashioned as in the depths of the earth. Your eyes foresaw my actions; in your book all are written down; my days were shaped, before one came to be. How precious to me are your designs, O God; how vast the sum of them! Were I to count, they would outnumber the sands; to finish, I would need eternity. If only you would destroy the wicked, O God, and the bloodthirsty would depart from me! Deceitfully they invoke your name; your foes swear faithless oaths. Do I not hate, LORD, those who hate you? Those who rise against you, do I not loathe? With fierce hatred I hate them, enemies I count as my own. Probe me, God, know my heart; try me, know my concerns. See if my way is crooked, then lead me in the ancient paths. (nab)

These days people are talking about the FBI going through the files of priests at chanceries. Great! Have at it! Get that trustworthy counterintel guy who did up personnel for the FBI before being the fall guy… what’s his face… oh yeah… Peter Strzok. So, not so great then. So…

These days people are talking about the laity going through the files. Great! Have at it! Hopefully some kind of competence is involved, like law enforcement. But people don’t like police these days. So…

These days people are talking about any and all parishioners going through the files of the priests of their parish. That would be a real hoot. I can hear it now: “Father George chose blue as his favorite color on his million question psych exam instead of yellow even though he’s got off the charts leadership skill sets (which would have to be yellow[!]). So, he’s got to be lying. But why? Meanwhile, I was thinking of Jesus’ good mom, who is depicted with blue because of the meaning of her Jewish name. That might be said to be ideological but it is sincere, and therefore not a lie. And blue is my favorite color anyway.

You want to know about my life? Have at it. But, I say, and so should we all: Jesus Christ, you are my life! Jesus is the One who is forgotten in all of this. Always forgotten. Jesus is not there in faithlessness. Jesus is not there in investigations. Jesus is not there in any solutions proposed at all. But I insist, and so should we all:

Jesus Christ: You are my life!

 

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Donkeys here there everywhere

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Donkeys have had a bad run of it because of being stolen and hypocritically used by elites of a hypocritical workers party (read “keep them all enslaved with welfare party”… read “do up a genocide of African Americans by way of abortion party).

However, donkeys, created by God, are intelligent (doing only what they understand, which is really smart), actually do work hard, and can sing really well – solo – and… and… are ever to be found in the midst of the Holy Family, from the birth of our Lord and the exile in Egypt all the way to the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem for His Passion and Death.

Meanwhile, a youngster wanting to enter the seminary sent me this, the new acquired donkey of his grandparents:

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The extended family live throughout the area, making the best and cheapest mode of transportation a golf cart (sold in huge abundance in his area of zillions of golf courses), that is, of course, until one acquires a donkey. This guy looks very friendly. It makes me think that God is good. Whenever I say such a think I get reprimanded by my fellow priests, who say that that’s obvious. But, hey!, I guess it’s the spirit with which you say it. God is good.

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Today, I’m a meth head

dung snow

My symptoms are a bit of a headache, a bit of nausea, dizziness, drowsiness…

For the past six hours I’ve been breathing in methane, not that I wanted to.

We had yet another plumbing catastrophe in the church of Holy Redeemer in Andrews.

  • A plumber came over.
  • The town water / sewerage guy came over.
  • The diocesan property specialists were contacted.
  • Advice from diocesan lawyers was had.
  • Suggestions were made.

But it’s the weekend. Nothing can be done until Monday. So…

The Vigil Mass is cancelled as the Community Center is busy on Saturday.

Sunday Mass in Andrews is moved to 11:15 AM in the Community Center about a mile away on the far side of Main Street in town.

We’ll see what happens on Monday. I’m hoping insurance can pay for documenting what’s wrong, for doing the fix, the cleanup, the disinfection. There may just be some routing work, but maybe some backhoe work, maybe some tearing up the concrete floor of the basement.

The good part is we can offer this for the release of the souls in purgatory. :-)

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Fiery edition)

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The cacti outside the church in Andrews are putting out their flowers just as winter threatens to descend with temperatures getting close to a hard freeze. These flowers seem to be trying to heat things up a bit with their fiery colors, looking ever so much like the fiery flames of Pentecost. Who wouldn’t think of the Immaculate Conception?

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Deep Kryptic: FBI, Abuse, Confession. Father Byers protects RICO in Penn?

FBI Data Ret

There was a strange hit on the blog to this post: “Mandatory Reporting” of Abuse Confessed in Sacramental Confession. [Read that again!] That seems to have sparked interest in this: Missionaries of Mercy reconfirmed: New list of faculties… [Read that again!] Involved is a group which archives and protects data for – How to say it? – the entire world, as in mirroring the likes the NSA, CIA, FBI, with the latter having a shared address. They figure into the posts above.

I reckon that there are two possible explanations besides just saying that there are a million coincidences and all the stars are happenstance aligning: (1) Someone’s wondering about the ethics of storing digitally recorded sacramental confessions such as those procured by the FBI multiple times not only in prisons but also in bugged confessionals in, for instance, Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City [Yep.]; (2) More likely: someone’s wanting to access those digitally recorded sacramental confessions at least as indicators of who to look at so as to get enough info to get warrants for those they didn’t know were suspect, and at the same time looking at the constitutional issues of free exercise of religion, which such recordings and research would significantly damage.

Again, it’s not that it’s not done. It is. I was personally approached by the Italian Department of Defense to agree to this very thing so that they might accomplish a kind of sting operation in southern Italy against whoever it was they were after back in the day.

Oh. Just another coincidence. The FBI has just now started a RICO investigation in Pennsylvania where our data center is at. Too bad that investigation is just about the influence of homosexualist bullying of teens instead of also about RICO style kickbacks to chanceries from risk retention groups for false accusations. Billions of dollars in that investigation, but it’s not politically correct right now. We’re now at the stage of, analogously, the Mueller investigation insisting on non-existent Russian collusion but finding (and ignoring) all the Democrat and DoJ and FBI crimes. But we’ll get there with that too, right?

The particular data site (of so very many sites globally for the same group) is some hundreds of acres, hundreds of feet below ground, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, one of the most secure places in these USA and, therefore, on earth. They brag about perimeter security, armed guards, metal detection, mantraps, biometric access, CCTV, almost to the point of making a Titanic statement that even God can’t sink this ship. Um…

I
In a solitude of the sea
Deep from human vanity,
And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.

II
Steel chambers, late the pyres
Of her salamandrine fires,
Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.

III
Over the mirrors meant
To glass the opulent
The sea-worm crawls — grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.

IV
Jewels in joy designed
To ravish the sensuous mind
Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.

V
Dim moon-eyed fishes near
Gaze at the gilded gear
And query: “What does this vaingloriousness down here?” …

VI
Well: while was fashioning
This creature of cleaving wing,
The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything

VII
Prepared a sinister mate
For her — so gaily great —
A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.

VIII
And as the smart ship grew
In stature, grace, and hue,
In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.

IX
Alien they seemed to be;
No mortal eye could see
The intimate welding of their later history,

X
Or sign that they were bent
By paths coincident
On being anon twin halves of one august event,

XI
Till the Spinner of the Years
Said “Now!” And each one hears,
And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.

=============================================

Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire, particularly those who mock sacramental confession. I’ll assume that those who archive are wanting to delete out of the system all digitally recorded sacramental confessions. Right? Right?

 

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Alec Baldwin from Jack Ryan to sedition

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Alec Baldwin, who ever so ironically played Tom Clancy’s character Jack Ryan in Hunt for Red October, is a seditionist, calling for the overthrow of the duly elected POTUS of these United States, thus insulting half the voting population and, whether he likes it or not as he sides with Maxine Waters, is setting up violent situations against law enforcement, against politicians, against citizens in good standing. Alec says such things amidst ricin attacks on politicians and military leaders, amidst politicians getting physically attacked and sent to the hospital, amidst attacks on civilians. Just to say, “overthrow” is not ever consonant with “peaceful” and “lawful.” No.

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Poetry by six year old Gordon J MacRae

scot beer

Father Gordon J MacRae, troublemaker that he is, since he was a six year old, composed and broadcast this poem out loud, before God and everyone:

Isn’t it nice that we have faces
They contain my favorite places
Eyes to see
Ears to hear
Nose to smell and
Mouth for beer

Wow. At six years old! I love it.

It’s reminiscent of SCOTUS Justice Brett Michael Kavanaugh’s love for beer. ;-)

BTW, there’s no yearbook for six year olds, nor any Senate Committee by which he might defend his reputation against, say, Voice of the “Faithful.”

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On “Flowers from St Thérèse”

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These little flowers jumped up from a cactus right next to the statue of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux outside of our little church of Holy Redeemer in Andrews, NC.  A priest friend of mine has a great devotion to Saint Thérèse, who is forever all the time giving him flowers, that is, when he is reciting a novena asking her about some intention or other.

He said that this has nothing whatsoever to do with “getting an answer” about anything, as if she were equivalent to a séance or a crystal ball or to palm reading or to Tarot cards or a Ouija board or whatever other ultra-stupid dangerous things people do.

He explained that this was merely an indication that she is paying attention to what he or other similar devotees are praying about, and not at all that she is interceding in any other way than to put this matter before the Lord, whatever way it is that the Lord Jesus is going to go about His providence for us sinners while we are here in exile upon this earth. I’m good with that.

For myself, I don’t do that. But I do preach about, offer spiritual direction about Thérèse, about a particular stage of the spiritual life she went through. She’s one of the saints most influential in my own spiritual life, in my life as a priest. That refers to looking to Jesus to save us with us stripped of all pride. It doesn’t mean I’ve taken it all to heart!

People think they are smart to recall her name in religion: Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, and then citing her “little way.” Good! But, they should also remember her FULL name in religion: Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, as in the imprint of the image of the face of Jesus on the cloth Saint Veronica used to wipe His face from blood, sweat and tears as He carried His cross. You have to be a child to be in solidarity with Jesus as He is in solidarity with us in His Passion, Death and Resurrection.

But there’s more we often forget about Saint Thérèse. She is a daughter not just of Saint Teresa of Jesus, not just a follower of such as Saint John of the Cross. She speaks of the founder of her religious order as Saint Elijah, the greatest prophet of the Old Testament. She spoke of him, of course, in the traditional manner: “Our Holy Father Elijah.” You’ll remember one of his greatest moments that took place just below the Carmelite Monastery on the northern slope on the far eastern side of the ridge of Mount Carmel:

elijah judas tree

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Still celebrating SCOTUS Justice Brett Kavanaugh. Highlights & predictions.

  • This will have decades of most positive ramifications for the USA and the world.
  • God bless Justice Brett Michael Kavanaugh.

I was cheering at the justifiable emotion of Senator Lindsey Graham:

The absolute best round of questioning came from Republican John Neely Kennedy of Louisiana, very short, very sweet. This was the very last closing session of questioning:

So, let’s see, I’m guessing that within the next six years, we might well see the resignation of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. After all, she’s going on 86 right now. Trying to hang on would put her well into her 90s. Her placement would, of course, be another woman, right? I’m thinking of Amy Coney Barrett. Aren’t you?

As you can tell, I’m still in celebration mode. I’m a Catholic priest. But even if you’re an “atheist” but also a promoter of natural law, you should also be in celebration mode. You are, aren’t you?

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Pope Francis on Mary’s virginity ed.)

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You have heard recently that it was said that Jesus’ good mom, Mary, the immaculate ever virgin mother of God, had no intention whatsoever of remaining a virgin at all. This is to insult Mary as being stupid.

Consider that when the angel sent to her to announce that she was to be the Mother of the Divine Son of God, she asked how this could be since she knows not man. Mind you, she was betrothed to Joseph, to be married to him, but she is ruling out making babies with Joseph. She knows not man. She will not ever know man. She’s not ever going to give up on being a virgin. She knew absolutely that she was called by God to be virgin forever.

That doesn’t mean that she was ruling out following the command to be fruitful and multiply; that doesn’t mean she was ruling out being a mother.

When the angel explained that she would conceive inside her womb by the power of the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, so that the One who is to be born of her will truly be the Divine Son of God, and when the angel again explained to her that during the very birth that Divine Son of God would be called “Holy” – necessitating that there be no blood offending Jewish purity laws (which would be impossible unless it would be a miraculous birth) – only then did she consent: “Yes!”

So, to repeat, saying that Mary had no intention to remain forever a virgin is to insult her as stupid or as being a liar. We recall what Pope Francis said about insulting one’s mother:

Of course, I have no intention to punch Pope Francis for having insulted Jesus’ good mom. I’ll leave that to Jesus (but see below). I do recall, however, that in mid-January 2015 Pope Francis insulted my mom by telling women generally not to breed like rabbits: as it is, I’m the fourth child of my own mother. She wasn’t a rabbit.

Now, having said all that: I forgive Pope Francis. I assume that he’s had a typical Jesuit anti-Catholic training in the seminary, and that he was taught to be dismissive of the Sacred Scriptures and the Fathers of the Church and the Councils of the Church. I assume that he thinks that he’s better than everyone before him because he lives today, you know, the old trick of being Promethean and all that, you know, because that’s the trick that everyone who taught him were playing when he was in the seminary. I assume that he’s no theologian, that he thinks it’s nice to speak of Mary as being “normal girl”, that he’s simply a political animal, you know, sincere in his vacuity, but sincere nonetheless. So, whatever. That’s on him. I forgive him.

That I forgive him – I’m his own Missionary of Mercy, right? – that forgiveness doesn’t mean I don’t hate it that people are scandalized, that people are not fed, that the brethren are not at all confirmed in the faith, that the Pope is not the sign of unity. I do hate all that. But I forgive him. And he does say the occasional good thing, you know, now and again. And he has, of course, never abused the gift of infallibility, nor could he.

Here’s the deal: I’ve done much worse. I’ve crucified the Son of the Living God, of the Immaculate ever Virgin Mary by way of my after-the-fact participation in original sin, by way of my own sin. We’re not made more righteous by throwing a tantrum and condemning others. We’re not made more righteous by being cynical and unforgiving.

Regardless of whatever Pope Francis says to insult Mary, I myself will continue to give flowers to the Immaculate Conception, asking that she ask her Divine Son Jesus to forgive Pope Francis for such insults and outrages.

You know what happens then? Then I am peaceful in heart and soul once again. Thank you, Jesus; thank you, Mary.

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Road danger “fix” with… cloth?

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The ravine to the left goes down about 90 feet. This part of the one lane road is continuously washing out, caving in. The foot of the cliff is a rushing creek. The fix is, I guess, new technology: cloth with cement. But it looks like the supporting dirt is already washing out from the bottom edge of the cloth, leaving a vacuous cavern – to be redundant – under the road itself, until it caves in under the weight of a vehicle. Guessing this will take about a year or two until catastrophe. A court ruling going back a good century forbids the road from being upgraded. If people are scared to drive the road they will be scared to move in. That’s the point.

Our fallen human nature! Being jealous of what we have, envious of what others have. There have to be rules, laws, of course, call it boarder security. Sure. But in the midst of trying to tamp down our fears for lack of security in this world, even to the point of making our lives more insecure (as with the road “fix” above), we might remember that our home is not here upon this earth, but in heaven, and that the redemption and salvation our Lord so graciously grants to us has nothing to do with security in this world but only in the life to come, in heaven. Please God we make it there.

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3 year 9 foot asparagus?!

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As some parishioners know, I didn’t put any lime down, no fertilizer, and the weeds were like trees. No matter to this asparagus. In the Spring it was watered daily. I gave that up in July when I stopped harvesting so let it rest and concentrate on sending down stronger roots. Nine feet. Next Spring should see daily harvesting. A Psalm (104:20-23) to recall:

“Thou makest darkness, and it is night, when all the beasts of the forest creep forth. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they get them away and lie down in their dens. Man goes forth to his work and to his labor until the evening.”

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THAT was unexpected. No Sunday Mass or Holy Hour. “Is Fr George alive?”

mark twain

Sparing you the gross details, lets just say we had catastrophic plumbing difficulties and that Service Master had to be called in for the cleanup and disinfection. It’s against State law to hold any public event without proper plumbing or its equivalent. So, everything was cancelled. But now all is back to normal already. Quick!

Signs were put up on all the doors of the church and office and classrooms and social hall that Mass and Holy Hour and any and all meetings were cancelled. Yellow and black striped caution tape was also used, ensuring no entry. The whole campus looked like a crime scene. But the gross reason for sudden cancelling wasn’t publicized on the notices. My bad. I’m humbled at the first reaction I’m told people had: “Is Fr George alive?”

As Mark Twain had it, and contrary to popular belief…

“Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

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Trump, Sounding Taps, Patriotism, Flag and our little parish

President Donald Trump just wrote the other day to one of our elderly widows in the parish. Her husband, a WWII vet, died recently. I’ve mentioned previously that this widow presents herself as being UN-patriotic, not because she’s unpatriotic, but because she feels inadequate before the magnificence of all that which is patriotism. I mean, she has all the verses of TAPS memorized. Her least unpatriotic moment is more patriotic than the most patriotism others can muster.

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days,
‘Neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

Sun has set, shadows come,
Time has fled, Scouts must go to their beds
Always true to the promise that they made.

While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.

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Meanwhile, the old flag out front of the church had sun damage and was replaced at the private cost of some individual parishioners. “No problem,” they said, “because we have a dozen flags ready all the time.”

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Sts Paul VI, Oscar Romero

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After retreat: bullets, razored arrows, cops. “Quiet till you got back, Father.”

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This razored hinged hunting arrow was shot into my neighbors yard across corners of two other neighbors’ yards (with little kids about).

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It’s full of identifiers…

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It looks to have been modified, or fixed up with a bit of glue. Just that red bit at the end I think comes in at about $10.00.

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The hinged razors might retail for like $50.00. Let’s see: carbon shaft, special joiners… Maybe just this one arrow is coming in @$75.00. Or am I overpricing that? I’m not into archery at all, though I did shoot arrows round about as a kid with a fiberglass bow.

Anyway, that’s just an arrow. Just as disconcerting for the neighborhood are bullets ricocheting here and there. They’ve whizzed by the neighbor’s dog. I think the target is the neighbor’s propane tank. If I’m guessing who the perp is correctly, he’s not a good shot at all. I’ve never seen him pull a bow back or pull a trigger, so, what do I know? Nothing. It’s usually between, say, 3:23 AM and 3:43 AM. I look at my backlit el-cheapo Casio watch during such events. I bet his favorite TV show ends at 3:00 AM and that’s when he takes out his weapons, perhaps totally plastered.

Various of the neighbors have called in these shenanigans, which, in town, are totally illegal. I haven’t done it up to now, but maybe I should call it in. After all, people’s lives are unnecessarily put at risk by someone mixing alcohol and guns. That never works well. So, fine. I hate to call stuff in because that puts the cops at risk. That’s the very last thing I want to do. And yet…

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Closing Mass

The Lord Jesus was with us…

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Last day of the retreat

This was a spectacularly good retreat. What remains is to ask our Lady to trample that crescent moon under her heel.

Your situational awareness is good enough whereby you see that sliver of a crescent moon in the picture above, right?

But who’s the most terrible enemy these days? There are enemies from outside and enemies within. There is the world, the flesh and the devil.

Saint Michael! Defend us!

Guardian angels! Protect us!

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