Homily 2018 03 21 – Truly free in Jesus

jesus baptism detail

My neighbor at the hermitage, in taking a look at this painting of Jesus, said the same exact thing I said about it, that Jesus has a super snarky look on His face, enthusiastic, but with the effect of implying to the onlooker: “You are just sooooo dead! Hah!” As in: As the Master so the disciple, and isn’t that really cool?! Anyway, I am just so very happy that we are free in the Truth Incarnate, free in Jesus.

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THAT package left at the rectory door doesn’t look suspicious. No, not at all.


I admit that the first second I saw this package apparently with no labels outside the rectory door this morning my first thought was the package-bombs in Austin, Texas. The drivers for UPS, USPS and FEDEX all know me and all leave the packages under the carport to the side of the rectory. This was was soaked in yesterday’s rain. It all looks bad, thought I, not wanting to be paranoid.

Then I remembered! Dearest Charlene, my most favorite person of the U.S. Department of State, the most unafraid diplomat I know, told me a couple of days ago that I should expect a package with treats for Laudie-dog and Shadow-dog. I grabbed it and turned it about, finding the labels which confirmed the whole story. Ripping it open, I gave both dogs a taste of their multitude of treats. Thanks, Charlene.


Usually there was something for Father George-donkey, but, well, O.K., it’s still Lent and there shouldn’t be any treats for me. ;-)

We pray for the victims, victims families and law enforcement, for all those who suffer terrorism right around the world. Hail Mary…


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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (appropriately Lenten edition)


These were seen in travels yesterday. Camera is always at hand for Flowers for the Immaculate Conception. They are everywhere.

Purple: the royal color, rare and ultra-super expensive in Jesus’ day, the color of the robe put upon Jesus by Herod to send Him back to Pilate. All mockery. But Jesus is the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Prince of the Most Profound Peace. And the Immaculate Conception is His good mom. I wouldn’t want to be against them, especially because they are so very good and very kind.

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The Hermitage neighbors

The waterfall near the Hermitage. The neighbor…

Warm near the fire…

Laudie-dog’s old friend Charlie-dog, on her last legs.

Meanwhile… A few minutes on the ridge. I think this is stage 3 of the FBI course (16 timed rounds w/mag change) at just 21′.

Points lost however, at 45′ and 75′. Final score was just 86%. An easy pass but not great. My target, however, is only a fraction of the size recommended for the course. With the larger targets I might be getting full points. I don’t know. It’s better to shoot with a small group. Not doing that at a distance is indicative that too much time has been spent on the pre-2001 Federal Air Marshall course, all at 21′, which I also did, this time with 98%.

That surprised me, as I tried using only 124 grain NATO rounds for all this. They felt more natural somehow. The usual is 115 grain.

Meanwhile, walking over to the grandma’s house, future pears we hope, but now flowers for the Immaculate Conception. Granny got all the last rites from yours truly. She’s dying. She got all the papal benedictions and indulgences. Don’t ask for whom the bell tolls and all that. Meanwhile, I’m sooooo looking forward to going to heaven. I hope that’s not presumptuous. It’s not that I’m worthy. It’s that Jesus is good and kind. To us all. Amen.

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (next to the Hermitage just because ed.)

Nuff said.


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Mention wanting to go to heaven and some people say “Go to hell!” Yikes!

byers dance paul vi audience hall

I never said I never bait people about spiritual stuff that matters for life eternal.

When I put up this post (Ask your Guardian Angel to help you make a good confession. I did. He did.) If you haven’t read that post, you should do it now. What a fright! I knew that post would get some reaction, and I did, immediately, in email, basically with the idea that I should just go to hell just like all other priests. That’s O.K. Their guardian angels will catch up with them and explain the matter to them. And that’s a good thing.

If you think I’m mean in doing that, baiting I mean, I beg you to read the Gospels. No, really! Be prepared to be amazed. Jesus is baiting people all the time, pushing them, antagonizing them. They hated Him for it, tortured Him to death for it. He knew it would happen. He did it anyway. It’s what got and gets the most to heaven: “Truly this was the Son of God.”

Do priests go to Confession? Yes. Or they should. Is every priest guilty of all sins of all priests in the history of the world? No. But that’s what lots of people actually think. And they say it. With dark bitterness. Not fair. But it’s to be expected.

Priest penitent: “Bless me Father for I have sinned. My last confession was last week. As you know, I’m a priest, and since last week, well, it’s not that I said anything, but I let myself get a bit impatient in my own feelings with someone who said I was guilty of all sins of all priests of all time because I was also a priest as if guilt by the association made in the mind of whoever is a real thing. I’m weak, Father. I could spend my time better. I’d like to include all the sins of my past life.”

Priest Confessor: “For your penance, Father, you are say the Memorare one time for the souls in purgatory. Now, say a good act of contrition.”

Pundit: “What?! Impatience?! He should confess being a chainsaw murderer! After all, there’s a picture! And he’s surely guilty of everything anyway!”


;-) Look, we’ve all crucified the Son of the Living God with original sin and whatever of our own sin. People shouldn’t think they will be justified before the Living God – who alone will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire – justified just because they condemned everyone else of everything else.

So, here we go again. I’ll say it again about why I go to confession:

I want to go to heaven. I don’t want to go to hell. Heck, I don’t even want to go to purgatory, not even for the tiniest moment. I want to rush to heaven and thank Jesus, the Eternal Word of the Father, for being my Savior, He having become, after all, the Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception, His dear mama and ours.

Terrible baiting, that. I mean, after all, I do not deserve heaven, but rather hell. But Jesus is good and kind. Really, He is.

But more than this, Jesus took on the punishment for all our sins. If we condemn people for wanting to go to heaven by throwing themselves down before Jesus begging for His mercy, do we not, then, condemn Jesus Himself? God will not be mocked. Aligning oneself with Satan, the Accuser, just ain’t gonna work out at the judgment.

  • We should be happy that Peter repented of his denial of the Lord.
  • We should be happy if Judas would have repented of his betrayal of the Lord.

bike stingray schwinn

It was with a bike just like this that, as a kid, I left even thirty foot skid marks and longer on sidewalks in front of people’s houses, dozens, overlapping, making designs, where they would remain for a good half year or more, lowering property values, making for angry comments while I would then speed away, perhaps on one wheel, getting me reprimands from my parents. It was a bit of a thing. I was a real brat as a kid. And, come to think of it, that’s something I’m sure I never confessed in my entire life, including today when I was really trying to include everything. O.K., well, maybe next time in the confessional if I remember it.

If you ask your Guardian Angel to remind you of things you didn’t confess for whatever reason, or were ambiguous about it, or making excuses for everything, he will let you know so that you can confess well. Don’t be afraid.


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Ask your Guardian Angel to help you make a good confession. I did. He did.

confession sacrament

Recently I asked my guardian angel to smack me down and let me know if there was any sin in my life which I had left un-confessed for whatever reason, or confessed in a bit of an ambiguous manner, or with WAY TOO MANY excuses in my own mind or even as verbalized to a confessor.

I want to go to heaven. I don’t want to go to hell. Heck, I don’t even want to go to purgatory, not even for the tiniest moment. I want to rush to heaven and thank Jesus, the Eternal Word of the Father, for being my Savior, He having become, after all, the Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception, His dear mama and ours.

Here’s the deal: when you ask your guardian angel something like this he will take you seriously and he will do it. Long story short: he did. Stuff came to mind from decades ago, as a kid, even as a little little kid. That I remember pretty much everything makes any of my obfuscations in the distant past and then never quite totally suppressed quite evil and bad. Having said that…

There is no greater rejoicing in heaven before the angels of the Lord than when a donkey like me runs to the mercy of our Lord.

My penance: A Memorare:

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother; to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.

So, have you ever asked your angel to do something like that?

I think smacking me down is an extreme sport in which my guardian angel delights.

Hint: when your guardian angel smacks you down you’re supposed to say, ever so politely, and mean it:

“Thank you, Guardian Angel.”

The mercy of the Lord is most wonderful to receive in confession.

What was it like to be smacked down by my Guardian Angel? Good question.

The revelation of whatever sin from so many decades ago was so incredibly clear, but not as a memory. It was an event, as in dying, and, in that first nanosecond after death, being confronted with that sin as a present possession, and all of eternity in hell yawning wide before me. It was like a lightning bolt. Clear as clear as clear can be. Angels are like that. All this, but still being held by my Guardian Angel. After all, the point in this kind of smacking down isn’t for the guardian angel to wipe out his charge, but to get him to confession safely and then off to heaven.

guardian angel

Thank you, Guardian Angel!

Dear reader, at this point you are supposed to be saying, “Hey! If that donkey priest Father George can be brave enough to ask his guardian angel something like that, then I can do that too. I want to go to heaven too. My guardian angel wants me to go to heaven too. Dear Guardian Angel, if there’s anything which I had left un-confessed for whatever reason, or confessed in a bit of an ambiguous manner, or with WAY TOO MANY excuses in my own mind or even as verbalized to a confessor, can you please smack me down and get me to confession and then, when the Lord wants, to heaven? Please!”

Hah. I tricked you into saying all that to your guardian angel.

You won’t regret it. Just say, Amen.




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Homily 2018 03 19 St Joseph deaf dumb


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Jackass for the Hour: Chapter 29 – We praise the darkness

palestinian donkey

Jackass for the Hour: Chapter 29 – We praise the darkness

It was the first Friday of the trial. Cardinal Francisco opened the session, saying, “We commence the proceedings again with a prayer, this time led by the Special Prosecutor, Sister Nice, who is recognised by the Pelotani as an expert in psychology, sexual-abuse and problems living celibacy. She was recommended by Cardinal Froben. Sister… if you would…”

“Let us pray,” she said, walking to the centre of the stage and throwing her arms wide. “We sing to the mountains; we sing to the sea; we sing to the blessing of you and of me,” she began, pointing at the crowd and then to herself. “We praise the darkness, we praise the light, our sharing, our growth, all our insight. Mud and water, fire too, we breathe forth Sophia, for me and you too.” She was about to go on, but thought better of it. She said “Amen” on her own, and then went back and sat down. Cardinal Francisco looked disappointed with the rest of the crowd.

Sister Nice started without waiting to be given the floor. “On the one hand, Alex, I’m happy with the sharing style of this trial. Sharing is what I do. On the other hand, I am disappointed that

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Dent-de-Lion edition)

lion of the tribe of judah

The Lion of the Tribe of Judah is the last one standing after the battle is over, after the night of the eclipse Good Friday Afternoon at the Hour of Mercy, after Good Friday Night, after Holy Saturday Night, on Easter Morning. The teeth of this Lion got the job done.

This is what the other lion, Satan, who prowls about looking for someone to devour, looks like after his battle on Calvary with Jesus, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Satan, the make-pretend-lion, is NOT the last one standing:

dead lion

And with that, it’s time to rush to mama Mary and give her a Dent-de-Lion (Tooth of a Lion), that is, as we Americans say, a dandelion:


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Jackass for the Hour: Note for Ch. 29 – “We’re men of consensus.” Idiots.

jackass for the hour

Chapter 29 – We praise the darkness – is coming up. I’ve been rather distracted by an associate for the last couple of weeks. As I review the first paragraphs of Chapter 29, this bit jumped out at me:

Bishop Athanasius knew of many candidates [for the priesthood] whose [psych] test results had described them as angels but who turned out to be abusers virtually from the day of their ordinations, as was being admitted by some of the psychologists who favoured abusive personalities, those who are nice, who go along with the ‘team’ by never criticising the abusiveness and lack of Faith of others.

When this was written I was thinking of two cases in particular:

  • One devastated a religious community I knew of at the time, the case being described to me in detail. One priest, totally disgusted with the fallen priest even after very many years, feeling totally betrayed, kept exclaiming that before ordination he was an angel and described as such by evaluations. Literally, from the day of his ordination…
  • The second was in an archdiocese. The seminary faculty has voted with two thumbs down, pretty much unanimously. The candidate, an absolute angel, was evaluated as being an absolute angel by the psych testing. Almost from the very day of his ordination… The anger of those who had given two thumbs down was so heated that the huge seminary was brought to the brink of closing in protest. Those who know of what I speak will know the emotional backlash as if they were going through it right now themselves.

Just to say. In my decades in Rome, I’ve met many of the key players and their minions of niceness and consensus. Again, Sister Nice might seem to be a caricature, a satire, but, really, she’s not. The reality is actually worse. I actually hold back. There are hundreds of priests who have met Sister Nice and been subjected to her… her… It’s difficult to come up with a word to describe her dumbing down of the faith, her betrayal of the faith, her disrespect for seminarians and the priesthood. I myself never met her, but knew many of her colleagues as close friends for very many years, and I have spoken with those subjected to her… her… Yuck. It’s stomach turning.

Having said all that, for the sake of the story line of the novel, there is some humor inserted. Sorry, with so serious a topic, but a bit of laughter is always a good thing even in the worst circumstances.

Update: Getting toward the end of this chapter 29, I see that Sister Nice says this to Father Alexamenos: ““Everyone will ‘wonder why the hell I am asking you this,’ but, tell me… What is spiritual direction in a seminary for?” The memories! This goes back to when one who could be called The Spiritual Director in Rome (super liberal but held to be the icon of orthodoxy for spiritual everything) went on the attack and wanted to humiliate me in front of some rather important people to all that which is political ecclesiastically in Rome, asking me a point about spiritual direction that he thought could not be answered in a Catholic manner. My answer made him, literally, apoplectic. He tried to argue a bit in front of these others, but was so beside himself with what I was saying that he stormed out, arms waving about, and re-entered the room multiple times and finally left altogether in a hissy fit. Just unbelievable. I recount such things not because this or that anecdote is important in itself, but because of who such people are with their far reaching influence in the life of the Church right around the world.

Update: Getting right to the end of chapter 29, I see this statement from Father Alexamenos: “The decontextualising statistics of your psychology despise the body in ‘favour’ of an ideologically reconstructed soul.” That’s the heart of this chapter. There it is. The dark key of gnostic salvation apart from Jesus. The true Key of Knowledge is not the dark key of gnostic salvation apart from Jesus. Mind you, that gnostic salvation – oh so very scientific – says that the truth and goodness and kindness of Jesus, the respect He shows to us is what is instead truly gnostic and useless and misleading as it is not at all scientific and controlled by us, manipulated by us.

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Tornado? It’s been a while…


Tree downed near Peach Tree. It was right across the road. Imagine: night, bucketing rain, hail, blowing rubbish hitting your windshield, you know the road, but then… a tree across the road. This one was obviously cut by some guy who lives on the road just to get by. I myself have done the chainsaw thing like seven times on the backroads, at one point not going anywhere without my trusty chainsaw. This tree continues on the other side of the road.

Where I was, there was also lightning, thunder, a bit of rain and hail. But no wind where I was. Stupid me. I didn’t think: “tornado.” I should have known, having been in plenty of tornadoes as a kid, that these are all the signs of a tornado, for which you don’t at all need wind if the funnel hasn’t yet dropped down. The second it does, it’s all full speed out of control train on the run. I and the ones I was with should have taken cover. But, come to think of it, there was no place to go. Except. Heh! To heaven! At least hopefully on the way. As one reader said recently: Go to confession!

When I was in the hermitage there was a level 5 tornado that when right overhead, slamming the hermitage as a number 3, but skipping over the mountains until it landed harder in eastern North Carolina, Virginia and D.C. How quickly I forget.

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (yellow white purple edition)





Did you know that the Latin “adoration” breaks down etymologically to “ad” and “oratio”, that is, “toward” “prayer”. In other words, there you are, in a tractor beam being drawn to Him who was lifted up on the Cross: “When I am lifted up I will draw all to myself.”

I love that. Meanwhile, on the way, because, there she is, under the cross…


These are just outside the church where the ad oratio is taking place.

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Homily 2018 03 18 When I am lifted up

crucifix drawing john of the cross

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Homily 2018 03 16 We’re nice

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Is that Fr George’s corpse in the river?

valley river andrews nc-

There was a report in the paper earlier this past week (Thursday) about a body matching the description of yours truly which was found in the river that wends its way through the mountains here in the parish. Various and sundry people told me today that they thought for sure that it was me, well, until they saw me today at Mass! It’s someone who sure looks like Fr George, they said. Not me. Anyway, this is yet another death besides the murder we also had the other week. A busy small town.


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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Purple Archangels Army edition)


A dear reader once said, me-thinks, that this is a purple archangel. There are armies of them everywhere round about the rectory, finishing off Lent in grand style.

I’m not sure why that name is what it is and there are plenty of weird interpretations of any and all kinds. I feel free to give my own interpretation (colors not being quite right, but I don’t care):

saint michael police officer down

Anyway, have no fear, our Lady always sees such flowers with purity of heart and agility of soul and sees flowers created by her Divine Son for what they are. Meanwhile, she also sees all the inane interpretations. It’s enough to make you want to give more flowers to the Immaculate Conception.

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Main State RICO: taking “payments”. Or just let it go. Watch death for fun.




Remember my “Shadow”? He’s the guy who stole my identity decades ago to get a clean identity to travel under so as to do arms transfers to straw purchasers for upstart cartels, specifically that of Sinaloa. He was a program runner for DoS shenanigans, inextricably entrenched under my name. He wants to send monthly “payments” to me. For what? Paying me for the use of my identity to commit crimes? Thirty pieces of silver for all those murdered with the AK-47s and mountains of ammo he transferred to the worst murderers South of the border? [By the way, these interdepartmental State Department programs are never about just guns, but rather about disrupting governments and economies. Giving weapons to the most adept murderers really helps.] For years, my “Shadow” wanted me to purchase vehicles for him, put my name on his properties, get a property for him in my parish right now. I’ve never done any of those things and none of these “payments” are for any of that. He says that the amount will be at least as much as 8% of his adjusted gross income. If your bleeding heart bleeds for this never repented guy and you are making excuses for him and you think he’s ever so sweet and nice and that I’m just an ol’ meanie who needs to give it all a break, take a breath. Having done that…


If you know what the rules are for Federal Income tax right now in these USA, just stare at that 8% for a moment and figure out what he’s doing, I mean, you know, considering that I’m a pastor of a 501c3 church. Money laundering. Get it? It falls under the RICO act (racketeer influenced corrupt organizations act). I mean, did I extort him for “payments” as a way to get back at him in some way? Anyway, I expect all that from him. So when I see rubbish like this, what I do is not stare at him, stunned by his behavior; instead, I look with disgust at Main State. They know this is going on, laughing. It’s their program. Great headline though: Pope Francis’ Jewish-Catholic-Priest Missionary of Mercy imprisoned for racketeering. The State Department owes it to me to get me out of this.


They know the bit of blue I want. They all have it.

It would solve really a lot of things.


Like Stzrok and McCabe and Comey and the whole sorry lot of the them in upper hierarchy of the FBI, Main State bad actors are plenteous. They made a mistake on 28 and 30 June 2017. There are recordings. I won’t give up. My going to prison, framed, won’t stop me. To the FBI and Main State: go ahead and ask Secretary Mike Pompeo and Director Gina Haspel when they get confirmed for a summary of my case and that of my “Shadow.” Can’t do it, can you? It would devolve back on you, wouldn’t it? A little too much Fast and Furious? Pope Francis is right about the sin of corruption. Hey! I’m all about forgiveness, but as John the Baptist says: Bear the fruits of repentance.


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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (To mow or not to mow edition)


The rectory lawn is looking a bit seedy. My neighbor has one of those turn on a dime mowers and can do my lawn in just a few minutes and has insisted since the beginning of cutting the rectory lawn since, anyway, he’s cut this lawn for the last number of decades, just to do it. I never say a word except thank you, and maybe give him something really cool once in a while. On his own, he said that he never cuts the lawn in Winter, never January, February or March, on principle, as that just wouldn’t be right.

Meanwhile, the lawn is therefore full of little beauties for the Immaculate Conception, like this blue and white and, for Lent, also purple itsy bitsy, they all having gotten a reprieve from being cut down, at least for a while. But while we can, we honor the Immaculate Conception in whatever way we can, a flower here, a flower there. Soon, we ourselves will be cut down from this life, much sooner than later, today, tomorrow, but always sooner than later. And then we will have been happy to have given a little flower, however tiny, to the Immaculate Conception, Jesus’ good mom. How about you, today? Maybe a Hail Mary in her honor for the souls in purgatory? Hail Mary…

Just small. But this is our life, our real life, about the only thing that’s real. Amen.


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Be the turtle: patience x 3


I’m guessing this is a mama box turtle, or maybe a snapper, out near the hermitage. She’s looking to lay a few eggs in the unusually warm late Winter weather. She’s taking her time, wanting to get the placement of the eggs in the ground just right. I’m told the eggs can last two years, waiting for just the right conditions. Turtledom survives, slow but sure, getting it right.

I got a bit of practice with all this while doing the thesis on Genesis 2:4a–3:24, four years of slogging through every letter of every word with brutal historical philology, right back into the cuneiform, correcting revered technical dictionaries, certain that I was doing the right thing but not seeing where any of it was going until the end: patience, patience, patience. I think it goes along with Pope Francis’ humility, humility, humility and Father John Neuhaus’ fidelity, fidelity, fidelity.

These are just some basic foundational aspects of our lives. Just to say: just because I got a bit of practice with some of this doesn’t mean that I’m any good at it. It just means I’m starting to see the supporting scaffolding and thought I’d use a turtle to write about it. Saint Teresa of Avila says that it’s good to make analogies of the spiritual life with the things we see in our daily lives. Yes. I like that. I like it a lot. Nature is very cool altogether. Do you see analogies with stuff in your daily life?


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