Tag Archives: Spiritual life

2024-05-14 · 7:40 am

Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Holy Spirit, edition)

On whatever day early in the week there’s a trip “across the mountain” to Prince of Peace church to do up some sacristy logistics, to set up the Thursday Noon Mass and the hymns and such for the following Sunday. This time I had to hunt down the Veni Sancte Spiritus, the Pentecost sequence, so very beautiful.

After that, it was time to pick up a dozen more tomato plants. As one parishioner said, “That’s very optimistic of you, Father!” Ha ha. At that location in the back-back-back mountains, this equine sign was to be seen:

In North Carolina we’ve found that it’s necessary to educate elite and entitled city slickers that any creature of the equine species is entitled to do what they do regardless of what the pretended safe space cadets think about it. It is a happy fact that donkeys belong to all that which is equine, you know, the whole equus asinus thing. I’m happy to be considered a jackass, which species also engages in “activities” with wolves who are not always four-footed, needing the gifts and fruits of the Holy Spirit:

Meanwhile, with the tomato plants secured in Sassy the Subaru, and now saying a fourth Rosary on the way back across the mountain, the Glorious Mysteries, the Holy Spirit “let me know” just a little bit who He is. He’s always been hunting me down with ferocity:

Up to this time, now in my mid-sixties, I’ve been running away, thinking I’m way too unworthy to have anything to do with the Holy Spirit. That’s so stupid, because the Holy Spirit was sent among us for the forgiveness of sins and I’ve been to Sacramental Confession a zillion times. Without God’s grace, I’m just an idiot sinner.

If ever there is an inspiration or some such grace that I might somehow notice, I’ll blame my guardian angel for that. I’m scared to say it was the Holy Spirit. Priests have actually reprimanded me with plenty of adrenaline for always bringing up my guardian angel, they insisting that guardian angels are really good, but this (whatever it is that took place) was definitely, they say, the Holy Spirit. And then they laugh with joy, happy that the Holy Spirit would use such a total unmitigated knucklehead as me.

Anyway, driving the dangerous curves of the Nantahala Gorge upper ridge, whilst saying the Rosary, the third Glorious Mystery, I was flooded with a smidgeon of understanding of just who the Holy Spirit is. It’s what I’ve been preaching on forever, but now… like a revelation… so very personal…

I’ve been preaching that the Holy Spirit’s job with us knuckleheads, if you will, is to form us to be members of the Body of Christ, so that through, with and in Christ we are given by this Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception as a gift to our Heavenly Father. Jesus is risen, but as we are formed to be one with Him by the Holy Spirit in this world, we perceive Him as Christ Crucified, we on the Cross with Him.

How very many times I have pointed to Saint Paul saying that the Holy Spirit would have us pray, “Abba! Father!”, which we are to say, one with Jesus, in His perspective, in His agony in the Garden, His sweating blood, His suffering a near dichotomy in the Divine Will, “Not my will, but thine be done!” … referring not so much to undergoing His Passion and Death, He not being concerned in the least about that, but rather in reference to His permitting that His dearest dear Mother would suffer so very much in seeing Him suffer, the difference with Jesus and the Father being that Jesus was born of Mary. He’s always her little Boy. That’s what caused the sweating of blood; that’s what caused his pericardium to break with a massive heart attack. He died from that broken Heart on the Cross, Pilate was surprised that it took Him only hours to die, not days. Have you prayed that prayer recently? The Holy Spirit will have you pray it through, with and in Jesus, in His perspective, His eyes filled with His sweat of blood. It’s very short: “Abba! Father!”

The Holy Spirit teaches us everything that Jesus said and did, how to say, the blood and guts of it, so very personally – how to say it? – not us merely somehow noticing a little bit what Jesus said and did, but noticing the Holy Spirit, in all His fiery love, bringing us to be one with Jesus. So. Very. Personal.

“One with Jesus”… Perhaps another example would help… Maybe I’ve mentioned this previously…

While preaching a while back about John coming back to Calvary to be in solidarity with Mary with Jesus, but with me feeling so very, very unworthy to speak of such things, suddenly, quite tangibly, as it were, I was brought mid-sentence – by the Holy Spirit methinks if I can now make brave… – I was brought to perceive in some small way the perspective of Jesus, that is, from, or better, in Jesus’ point of view, from the Cross, He seeing His Mother, with me perceiving in some small way His concern for His dearest dear Mother there, under the Cross, so very, very personal, like I was seeing her there, with me seeing her from within Jesus, being in awe of His great love and concern for her… Jesus Himself drawing me into this perspective of His, he wanting me there for a moment of that Hour, instructing me – dare I say? – as a Friend, in this way…

I tend to preach about a million miles an hour, as it were, but I was now speechless for many seconds on end, like, noticeably (people mentioned it later), and I was quite self-conscious about this, thinking maybe people will think I’m getting a stroke or some such. I was all choked up. I tried a few times to re-start. More seconds went by. And more. Finally, the homily continued with me being quite shaken for the rest of Holy Mass.

Jesus says that not one of whom the Father has given to Him will be ripped out of His hands. Both He and the Father sent the Holy Spirit. That Holy Spirit forms us to be one with Jesus, which is how the Father gives us to His Son. I’m thinking I’m very late in life to this, and that everyone knows all this since they were little kids…

This is not some sort of self congratulation for me or anyone else. Quite the opposite. It’s like an incrimination of all that any of us might lack. We, all of us, have a really, really long way to go. But this experience for me was an invitation to keep going, to have hope. Jesus does know me. (I’ve always fretted about that.) These bits and pieces of smidgeons of getting to know Jesus give one hope. They are due to the intercession of dearest dear Immaculate Mary, who suffered so terribly for us.

Meanwhile, saying the Rosary, I was deeply impressed that I was being tasked by the Holy Spirit, something about the Most Blessed Sacrament. It has to do with Eucharistic reparation. I have lots of reparation to do for my own sins which are written out – as + Fulton J Sheen used to say – in the wounds of Jesus which He still bears on His risen body.

  • “But Father George! Father George! You don’t understand! You have to be a saint to do Eucharistic Reparation! And it’s all too Fatima-esque and stuff!”

What Jesus wants is that sinners who have abandoned Jesus, running away from Calvary, like me, come back to accompany Mary accompanying Jesus. That any of us, inadequate, inept as we are, are there with His Mother is a great consolation to Jesus, which is, in turn, a great consolation to Mary. It’s the fiery, fierce Holy Spirit.

Flowers for you, dearest Mary.

I’m so very far from this… but I do wish I could be this guy all the time:

The Holy Spirit can make this possible for any of us, even for me, even for you.

Veni Sancte Spiritus!

1 Comment

Filed under Flores, Holy Spirit, Spiritual life

Tagged as , , ,

2024-05-09 · 8:53 am

Click and a jam. Pastor lives.

The other day in Pennsylvania. Yikes! In the videos all over the internet you can hear the click and the jam.

How’s your situational awareness? Hard to tell from the picture, but is that a cross-draw belly-band elastic holster he’s got on underneath the T-Shirt? The Gym-shorts/PJ bottoms combo wouldn’t much work.

Here’s the deacon flying over the rail, simultaneously tackling the perp and wanting to get control of the weapon. Adrenaline permits much:

Awesome, that. A nanosecond later, having spun the perp around and having seated him on the steps and grabbing the gun from him:

Not all churches have such deacons!

I’m guessing that the deacon has some military/LEO experience!

Be aware that not all guns always end up with a mere click and a jam.

Be aware that angels aren’t necessarily going to save us from any such event. The job of the angels is to get us to heaven at the time that is best for our souls. The angels will always do what it takes. We just need to be doing the will of God at every moment. That includes being at the ready like the deacon above, if we can, if we have the circumstances of health to be at the ready in this way.

Does your church have any kind of security measures… at all?

Here’s a FRC analysis of terrorist incidents against churches in these USA from 2018-2023.

Something to think about.

Having a security detail is not an insult to guardian angels, by the way. Angels can handle anything instantly. But our angels want us to do what we can so that we can learn some charity instead of throwing all responsibility onto them.

The point isn’t “winning” from an earthly perspective:

  • “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?” (Mt 26:53-54).

The point is doing the will of God. That may be that we suffer martyrdom. All glory be to God. Meanwhile, we do what we can in charity. It is not charity to do absolutely nothing preventative all nonchalantly when we know that bad stuff happens this side of the judgment. We need to praise God for what He provides that is good and for what He permits that is evil… the latter with the view of drawing a great good from the evil that is permitted.

It’s not that God isn’t paying attention. It’s part of the effects of original sin that we might perhaps suffer the aggression of others in this world. Can we learn to forgive? Can we learn to go to heaven. That’s the point.

Jesus might for a moment, while we’re in this world, save us from some of those effects of (original) sin, you know, from the continuing weakness of mind, of will, of getting sick and dying, of being tempted, of feeling to be in darkness, feeling far from God, being smacked down by others… all effects of sin which are not suffered in heaven at all.

But the point of Jesus saving us is not to take away, in this world, the just effects of sin chosen with the sin, original sin and otherwise, but to provide us with a humble and contrite heart should we want it, to provide us with forgiveness, to provide us with His presence, to draw us into His friendship, His grace, which, as Saint Paul says, turns to glory in heaven, where no such effects of sin are to be suffered any longer. The point is to have us learn to be charitable to others.

Whether God provides a “click and a jam” or permits that we have the privilege of giving our lives in witness of His love and truth, it’s all good, whatever is best for us. He knows what is best for us, whether we live a bit longer or die immediately in witness of Him.

Meanwhile, God wants us to be charitable, to be at the ready like the deacon flying over the railing and doing the necessary. First of all that means opening our eyes to understand that God can and will permit bad things to happen but only to bring a greater good that is according to His will. That’s huge. Most people throw a tantrum and just say that God would never ever ever permit something bad even if for the greater good. Really? …

Back to the question: does your church have any security measures at all?

We can’t be lackadaisical about this. I remember making a comment on such things some years ago and this time a Catholic deacon reprimanded me, saying that we must, in charity, just let the entire congregation be gunned down, because, you know, being nice to the perp and all that. And no, evil does not make sense.

Are you able to join or set up a security commission in your church?

4 Comments

Filed under Situational awareness, Spiritual life, Terrorism

Tagged as , ,

2024-05-06 · 3:00 am

Piliated woodpeckers, heretics, apostates

I’m amazed with piliated woodpeckers. Weighing only ounces, these guys have a 30 inch wingspan. They are to be seen quite frequently, even the other day at church in the middle of town after Holy Mass. They are protected though not endangered. It’s the ivory-billed that are about extinct. The physics and physiology… the mathematics involved as to how these guys don’t get concussions is absolutely amazing, pointing to God as Creator.

I’m also quite amazed with heretics beating their heads against walls apparently just to do it. A zillion times in a few seconds, and then again, and again, and again, and again… The lack of reason, the darkness, the insistence rationalizing despair, a proselytism to weakness in numbers… Frighteningly amazing. They are more dazed, more stupid the more they insist. But they do insist, throwing themselves into a laughter of despair.

People are fed up with heretics, with apostates (Chapeau to Rorate and LifeSiteNews).

4 Comments

Filed under Nature, Pope Francis, Spiritual life

Tagged as , , , , ,

2024-04-28 · 5:25 am

Some birds in my parish

Bald Eagle, a frequent sight, for me symbolic of Saint John the Evangelist, but, here in America, also a symbol of patriotism, a virtue of piety if truth be told, as described as a virtue of justice by Saint Thomas Aquinas. Lots of those in the parish.

Wild Turkey, which always reminds of our forefathers and Thanksgiving. Quiet foragers, stately. I’ve counted as many as 90 together at the right time and place.

Turkey vultures with their red-heads and huge wingspans taking over roadways over roadkill and sailing effortlessly in their “kettles” as they spy for more to scavenge. Necessary. Helpful.

Humming bird, smallest, meanest, most violent, most beautiful, fastest, noisiest, most helpful in their own way with pollination and such.

Then their are the song-birds, the varieties of finches and chickadees and sparrows.

There are crows and ravens, and the waaaaay too opinionated blue-jays.

You thought I was talking about birds. Them too. But I was talking about parishioners. All good.

You know, one kind of bird we do not at all have in the parish are ostriches. Nobody is wanting to escape reality. We look to our Risen Jesus, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, we see His wounds. And then everything is right with the world again, because we have our souls pointed to the heavens.

3 Comments

Filed under Nature, Spiritual life

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

2024-04-18 · 6:58 am

Deep calls to deep. Heart speaks to heart. Notes on the spiritual life.

The poetry of these images speaks to me of “deep calls to deep”, “heart speaks to heart”…

There are a number of recent, inspiring, awesome comments on the post “[“Pinned” post: scroll down for newer posts] Sister Lucia of Fatima’s future miracle for “Aussie Mum” aka Yvonne Cheryl Ann” which, however, request that I do up a philological foray into Psalm 42:7 (careful of the numbering of both chapter and verse), particularly the words “deep calls to deep,” rendering, then, an exegesis for the benefit of these good souls.

Translations of this are as poetic as the vocabulary. None of them fail. All are glorious. We could say that all the translations struggle, as would any attempt of mine. But poetry is all about “triggering”, to use a modern poetic descriptive. You yourself have to bring your whole life to any poetry as an occasion to hope to unlock a smidgeon of what, as Hopkins said, is inscaped therein. Take his description of the Holy Spirit as Manley speaks directly to Christ Jesus, Divine Son of the Immaculate Conception:

THE WINDHOVER — by Gerard Manley Hopkins —

To Christ our Lord…

  • I caught this morning morning’s minion, kingdom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
  • Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
  • High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
  • In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
  • As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
  • Rebuffed the big wind.
  • My heart in hiding
  • Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
  • Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
  • Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
  • Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
  • No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
  • Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
  • Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

Speaking, repeating… such words to Christ Jesus, the Son of His Maid-Servant, words spoken to the Risen Jesus still bearing His wounds – that Heart! – King of kings, Lord of lords, Prince of the Most Profound Peace, I weep as “deep calls to deep.”

Who am I to interpret such things? I am very much afraid, of myself, my lack, my ineptitude, my nothingness. Do people want my death consequent upon the hubris of my claiming such a pulpit, the angels desirous of sundering me with mighty swords for not rendering justice to the Scriptures inspired by that fiery Holy Spirit? I fear that everything I might say will be an insult, not that it would be wrong, or malicious, but that it would be devastatingly inadequate…

Wisdom, chapter 9, comes to mind:

  • “God of my ancestors, Lord of mercy, you who have made all things by your word, and in your wisdom have established mankind to rule the creatures produced by you, and to govern the world in holiness and righteousness, and to render judgment in integrity of heart: Give me Wisdom, the consort at your throne, and do not reject me from among your children; for I am your servant, the child of your maidservant, a man weak and short-lived and lacking in comprehension of judgment and of laws. Indeed, though one be perfect among mortals, if Wisdom, who comes from you, be lacking, that one will count for nothing.”

Some months ago while preaching on the glories of Sacramental Confession, I waxed poetic on my fear of hearing the words at the end of my life, called before Jesus for my judgment: “Get away from me you evildoer: I never knew you.” I rhetorically asked in my homily about how it is that we can be certain that Jesus will know us as His friends, as part of His Holy Family. I again spoke of Sacramental Confession where we hear the words of Jesus commanding His Father to forgive us: “Father! Forgive them!”

To hear those words, we have to be there, on Calvary, returning, like John, accompanying Mary accompanying Jesus (back to the images at the top of this post). That’s where we are when we go to Sacramental Confession.

Well, well… we can speak of such things as poetically as we might, but it is not a matter of us inscaping everything we are into the facts at hand, but of dying to ourselves and being drawn into the reality of what is happening there, where heart speaks to heart. The yearning of my heart, crying out to Jesus, wanting to explain to His Little Flock such Mysteries of the Kingdom, was this deep speaking to deep, heart speaking to heart?

I am nothing. But the Lord Jesus had pity on me, right then, right there, while I was preaching away. I went silent, standing there not saying a word for what seemed an eternity, self-conscious that the homily was delayed and someone would try to help me because of thinking that I was suffering a stroke.

But here’s my experience of heart speaking to heart, deep calling to deep, and this has nothing to do with me bringing anything, inscaping anything into the situation:

All of a sudden my perspective, my heart, my depths [if any], were those of Jesus on the Cross, no longer looking to Him but instead one with Him, He sharing with my continuing nothingness and continuing blindness and continuing weakness and continuing ineptitude… He sharing the solidarity He had with His Immaculate Mother, the depths of those Hearts crying out to each other.

It’s not philology speaking to philology, exegesis speaking to exegesis. Instead, deep calling deep, heart speaking to heart, is the consequence of the fulfillment of Jesus’ prophesy: When I am lifted up [on the Cross], I will draw all to myself. When we are there, one with Him on the Cross, we see Mary’s heart from within Jesus Heart… we’re drawn into the calling out of those depths…

The images, the sounds, that come to mind, so banal, I’m so sorry, are those of whales, mother and calf, in the deep, calling out to each other in the deep, obviously heart speaking to heart…

I feel like running away, thinking I could speak to such ineffable, unspeakable calling, crying out…

I beg the Lord that I not to fall asleep again in this Gethsemane of today, oblivious that the betrayer is at hand, oblivious of Sacred Heart speaking to Immaculate Heart, of such Deep calling to Deep.

It is not a matter of our nothing-love that we stay awake and not run away into the dark, a matter of our hearts speaking, our depths crying out, but a matter of His love, His Mother’s love, those Hearts, those Depths into which we are drawn so as to be one with the two Hearts of Jesus and Mary. I know who you are! Come into the kingdom prepared for you!

We must wake up now in the Gethsemane of today:

Arise! Let us be going! Behold! My betrayer is at hand!

/// This waking up was moments after Jesus was sweating blood, after Jesus’ Heart was sundered in concern for His Mother’s heart… Back to the poetry of those images up top…

3 Comments

Filed under Spiritual life

Tagged as , , , ,

2024-04-02 · 8:16 am

My God! My God! Why have you freed me? Eastertide special. God’s will for Mary.

“My God! My God! Why have you abandoned me?” Psalm 22; Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34.

During the Sacred Triduum 2024 I kept hearing interpretations of this psalmistic cry of Jesus on the Cross to His Heavenly Father such that “abandoned” and “forsaken” meant that Jesus’ Heavenly Father hated Jesus. That’s blasphemy. God is love, not hate.

Checking out the Hebrew and Aramaic, the most foundational meaning of this word has to do with being freed, a meaning not contradicted, but again, foundational in sense to the provided Greek translation. Thus:

  • “My God! My God! Why have you freed me?!”

Wait? What?!

Trying to fathom this for some seconds, it struck me very hard in heart and soul, all spiritually, all emotionally, sorry, that this conversation of Jesus on the Cross with our Heavenly Father was not another, but a continuation of the same conversation that Jesus had with our Heavenly Father in the Garden of Gethsemane three times, just some hours previously, in a sweat of blood: “If possible, let this chalice pass from me…” and “Not my will, but thine be done…”

And now, hours later, at The Hour, our Heavenly Father frees Jesus from the obligation of obedience. Jesus is free to choose to come down from the Cross or to remain. Up to this time, Jesus – I’m speaking of the human nature of Jesus in which He had to learn obedience by what He suffered (Hebrews 5:8) – up to this time, Jesus was simply being obedient, and He did learn obedience by what He suffered… but now, freed from the obligation, it was all on Him to redeem us, to save us.

In Psalm 22, of which this cry – My God! My God! … – is the first line, immediately, amidst descriptions of the hellish violence of Calvary, the crucified voice in that psalm speaks of His Mother, who bore Him in her womb, who nursed Him at her breasts, for whom He has such a tender love. She is His first concern, not His own sufferings. Then, on the Cross, on Calvary, Mary is, again, His first concern amidst all the hellish violence. It’s not just that the chief priests are mocking Him, telling Him to come down from the Cross to save Himself and save us, but they are mocking His Mother: Tell Him to come down from the Cross! All the powers of religion and state are telling Him to do this. Why don’t you tell Him. You’re His Mother. He’s going to hell and you are going to hell with Him!

Up to this moment, Jesus was obeying. Now, being freed up, Jesus can stop all this in a moment, coming down from the Cross, or He can stay. But it’s now totally His decision. He must make the decision which will, in effect, cause His Mother to suffer more (short term). The purpose of our Heavenly Father freeing Jesus to choose is to make the loving merits of the human nature of Jesus grow, and the same for Mary, making them more of a team than ever. That lasted for only moments, but it was “enough”, when Jesus would then breathe forth His Spirit.

The only derived sense in which Jesus’ human nature was abandoned was to be freed up for an increase of love, and that is not abandonment at all. Can we, please, read the Scriptures in faith, in the love of God, and perchance notice the great truth of the instigated increase of love before rushing to derived cynicism?

  • “My God! My God! Why have you freed me?!”
  • “For an increase of love for you, my Son, and your dearest dear Mother Mary.”

/// Now, I called this an Eastertide special, looking forward to Pentecost. For this increase of love surely brought about in Mary the same experience of sweating of blood subsequent to a heart attack also breaking the pericardium, from which one can temporarily survive. Jesus died of such a broken Heart within hours on the Cross, though it should have taken Him days to die. Mary survived until Pentecost, but in a terribly weak state, John taking care of her. She had the joy of meeting Jesus, risen. But during this entire Eastertide she was utterly weak, always at the point of death.

And then did die, also of a broken heart, not because she was subject to original sin, but because she was Immaculate, because she was so generous with her love, that special increase of love upon the freeing up of Jesus by our Heavenly Father.

God’s ways are not our ways. My must allow ourselves to be slammed to our knees before these tremendous Mysteries of our Salvation, before Jesus and Mary, before our Heavenly Father and the Holy Spirit. The invitation to the increase of love was provided to John. He said yes. And what about us, this Eastertide, awaiting the fiery Pentecost to come? Are we available for this increase of love?

1 Comment

Filed under Jesus, Mary, Spiritual life

Tagged as , , , ,

2024-03-26 · 4:30 am

The obedience of disobedience

Christ Jesus was obedient unto death, death on a cross.

Love makes reasonable the death of Christ Jesus, for this is not an obedience imposed by sadistic malevolence, but rather God the Father, loving the world so much as to send His Only Begotten Son to stand in our place, Innocent for the guilty, to have the right in His own justice to have mercy on us, He taking on the death we deserve for sin so that He could then command the Father to forgive us, granting us eternal life.

In Galatians 2:11, well into post-Ascension apostolic ministry, we read how Paul was not politically correct with Peter. Paul did not offer Peter the pretense of sycophantic obeisance, but rather Paul listened to the Holy Spirit: Paul rebuked the heresy of Peter, because Peter stood condemned. That’s why Paul became Saint Paul, and Peter became Saint Peter.

Fraternal correction, even severe, animated, public (if necessary), but done with love, done for the love of the other and for the salvation of souls, is a most Catholic activity. Depending on the circumstances, we can go to hell for the sin of omitting to make a correction.

Going along to get along, meek and mild, never making a needed correction, is not perfect obedience. It is the kind of ugly fakery that ties people into the unity of tobogganing together into hell. So happy!

As in the past, these days, the guy who is said to be disobedient, in schismatic disobedience, you know, the bad and evil guy, who is said to be arrogantly cutting himself off from Christ and the Church, may well be the guy who is supremely obedient, instructing his wayward superiors about any objective evil they may be doing by way of his supposed disobedience. And in this the supposed recalcitrant desires the salvation of their souls.

  • Worship that demon idol!
    • No.
  • Mock the image of God, male-female-marriage-family, by blessing same-sex sex!
    • No.
  • Take a fake “vaccine” researched, developed and tested on the organs stripped from live and healthy babies for your own selfish benefit!
    • No.

You get the idea.

  • How do we know what to do? It’s all so confusing!

No, it’s not. What we’re to do is remain in the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. What we’re to do is believe in all that Sacred Revelation, the Sacred Scriptures and Sacred Tradition, put before us. What we’re to do is to follow Christ Jesus. We’re to be in solidarity with the Immaculate Heart of Mary. We’re to keep up with the Sacraments. We’re to pray, pray, pray. We’re to bring souls to Jesus.

As always. We’re to be the littlest of little children running to Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament.

And, yes, we’re to rebuke those who stand condemned, just like Paul did for Peter.

Leave a comment

Filed under Flores

Tagged as , , ,

2024-03-26 · 3:18 am

When a priest offers Holy Mass… When a priest himself goes to Sacramental Confession…

Such an admonishment is posted in sacristies of the Missionaries of Charity all over the world.

Too bad there’s an underlying heresy. There’s an implication that the Holy Mass the priest is about to offer is NOT the first, last and only Mass they are about to offer. But it is.

For there is only one Last Supper united with Calvary, the Wedding Feast of the Lamb whose wedding vows to His Immaculate Bride, the Church – This is my Body being given for you in Sacrifice – my Blood being poured out for you in Sacrifice – constitute our once-for-all Redemption, the source of our Salvation.

Holy Mass is not some kind of re-presentation of the Last Supper. It IS the Last Supper.

Meanwhile, when a priest himself goes many times to Sacramental Confession – although each Confession is a different event, with different sins, with differing quality of contrition, he is nevertheless kneeling before the one Sacrifice of Jesus, in that One Hour to which Christ Jesus draws us from the entire breadth of time. He then commands the Father: Father! Forgive them!

Hopefully, the priest is in humble thanksgiving for having been forgiven by Jesus even as he offers that one Holy Sacrifice.

Yesterday, the penance I received for my Sacramental Confession was to recite the Hail Holy Queen.

I must say, I prepared for that Confession as if it were my first and only Confession, as if it were the last Sacramental Confession I will ever make until the Lord calls me before Him to render an account.

Now it is time to run to the Most Blessed Sacrament to beg for the grace to go and not sin again, overwhelmed before Jesus who has lays down His life for me in His Holy Sacrifice, with me begging for that grace though in my life I have surely prostituted myself at this time or that to political correctness in this way or that.

Now it is time to run to the Most Blessed Sacrament, to beg for the grace of Dominic Savio’s “Death before sin!” though I hardly have the slightest smidgeon of his tremendous courage, his being with heaven while smashing down hell.

Now is the time to run to the Most Blessed Sacrament to be one with Jesus in His concern for His dearest Immaculate Mother, desiring to offer, however ineptly, awkwardly, reparation for all the outrages, sacrileges and indifferences that so offend her Immaculate Heart.

For you and for the many for the forgiveness of sin…

1 Comment

Filed under Confession, Priesthood, Spiritual life, Vocations

Tagged as , , , ,

2024-03-24 · 4:05 am

Our Friend, an almost totally blind veteran, was “disappeared”, but not from hearts and souls

That picture above of Our Friend was taken by myself at 9:50 AM, Wednesday, 13 March, 2024. He was was down a steep ditch off a major highway, hidden by a guardrail, with the speed limit being 65 mph / 104 kph.

THE PREVIOUS STATUS QUO

The picture below (from Google-maps) is Our Friend in the lower-right of the picture, with his backpack in the Gazebo (which is near the Post Office in Andrews). This has been a familiar, friendly scene in Andrews for years and years and years. He’s simply enjoying the fresh air, soaking up the sun, during the day, as any citizen might do.

Some people might call that being a bum. Some might say that he needs to have a chat up close and personal with some baseball bats, you know, to get more acquainted with that Appalachian justice which exclaims “Howdy!” but then adds “Now, GET!” They think that when he’s out of sight, he’ll be out of mind. Good riddance, they say. He’s unproductive, they say. Some people might say that he just needs to hear some carefully worded threats good people, those the Italians call gente per bene. And then he’ll just leave on his own, the genteel way to “disappear” someone.

You’ll notice that the grounds and the Gazebo are immaculate. That’s because Our Friend would clean everything. No bird droppings. No cat droppings. No trash. Everything in tip-top shape. This isn’t Seattle or San Francisco. This is Andrews, but only because up to this point we’ve had Our Friend to help us out. Our Friend, omnipresent during the day, kept the park crime-free. The thugs and buffoons didn’t like him overhearing their drug sales.

Our Friend had gone missing on the evening of March 1, 2024, a Friday night, on Main Street of Andrews, NC, heading out of town. So, that’s almost two weeks before I found him. By “missing” I mean that he physically just disappeared.

But I also mean that we missed him. Almost everyone loves Our Friend. He is elderly, one of those veterans who couldn’t quite re-integrate back into society in society’s point of view. As far as I know, Our Friend is not a criminal of any kind. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t take drugs. He’s the friendliest – if wariest – and most innocuous guy ever. Very quiet. Very soft spoken. He’s by far the most polite guy I know. Our Friend knows suffering. He’s been betrayed, a lot. He’s very wise.

  • On the one hand, there are street thugs who beat him up, shake him down, steal from him, threaten him, attempt to gouge his eyes so almost successfully that now, though he walks around with his eyes in his head, he’s basically blind. That’s why he’s wary. He’s trying to see who you are, if you mean him harm.
  • On the other hand, he can size up insincere do-gooders right quick, and is deft, brilliant I would say, in putting them off. I’ve witnessed this. What a great spirit.

If Our Friend were to be assessed for ADA, I think he would be able to receive 100% disability. But, note well, Our Friend doesn’t want government housing. He won’t even take a free meal at the soup kitchen here in town, ever. No food bank for him. As to the accusation of “unproductive”…

  • …you can say that about babies in the womb, so they are murdered; you can say that about toddlers, so, in many countries, it’s legal to murder them; you can say that about the elderly, so it’s pretty much legal everywhere, at least by benign neglect, to murder them, with people mostly getting “stop-the-breathing-doses” of morphine; you can speak of being unproductive in regard to the handicapped, so people try to hurt them all the more, and I myself am still stunned by the kinds of things people would say to me when I was for a couple of years in a wheelchair, they wanting to disappear me because people in wheelchairs shouldn’t be seen in polite society; you can accuse someone of being unproductive for reasons of race, color, creed, social status, whatever you like… but I find it rather despicable to flip “Thank you for your service!” to “You’re unproductive.”
  • Moreover, our Friend prays for his enemies. That’s the most productive thing anyone can ever do in this life, ever.

Our Friend’s enemies seem to be consumed by thoughts of him. They allegedly claim that he is “camping out” at night, an allegedly unappreciated activity. But Our Friend has never, as far as I know, ever camped out around here. Well, I take that back, allegedly Our Friend is camping out in the hearts and minds and souls of his enemies, all rent free. :-)

Perhaps we should get to know Our Friend a little better…

(1) Going to Walmart with Our Friend a number of times to get him new shoes and cargo trousers that you see in the picture up top, he himself brought up a favorite subject of his, namely, discovering, without a calculator and without paper and pen (he’s blind), incredibly labyrinthine mathematical equations. All done in his mind. The guy is a phenomenon of brilliance.

(2) Cool! Let’s continue: When I first met Our Friend, he would often sit on a bench directly in front of the American Flag that was set up right next to a railroad crossing on the north end of town. While I was speaking with him, a lady stopped, at a distance, to interrogate him:

  • We’re you ever in the military?
  • Yes.
  • What kind of benefits are you getting?
  • I don’t like to discuss my private affairs with strangers.
  • But I want to help you.
  • Please, respect my peace.

Years and years later, just some weeks ago, a young man walked up to Our Friend and tried to hand him $20 bucks. Our Friend politely refused. Get that? The young man explained that he was heading off for military duty the next day. Our Friend responded, “I’m a veteran.” Just an acknowledgement. He didn’t take the money. You can’t get more genuine than that. You can’t make that up.

But, that got me thinking… which branch of the military? He’s extremely disciplined, scheduled, able to purposely put himself into survival mode in the worst of conditions as if such readiness were part of his job, part of what he did in the military.

(3) Our Friend has a strict code of morality – the Ten Commandments – which expressly, frequently enter into every aspect of conversation. He speaks of doing God’s will, always, at each moment… right now.

(4) Cool! Let’s continue:

בֹקֶר טוֹב I would say I would say to Our Friend, perhaps entirely politically incorrectly to some of the populace in these days of world strife.

בֹקֶר טוֹב he would respond, מַה שְּׁלוֹמְךָ, happy but struggling to speak a familiar but long unused language.

מְצוּיָן and, of course, תוֹדָה.

About his disappearing: Our Friend walked away under his own power. He received many all-to-eager offers to give him a ride out of town, out of sight, out of mind. He refused. Our Friend likes to walk. He did so. The question is, why? We had set him up with a nice little cottage where he stayed at night. We had him in there before the severe cold spells near zero a couple of months back.

Our Friend very suddenly being no longer with us, we went looking for him. As I say, it took me almost two weeks to find him way out of state on a lonely stretch of mountainous highway, following some sparce leads of out-of-state friendly law enforcement and trying to listen to my guardian angel while reciting the Emergency Chaplet of the Immaculate Conception.

In the picture below, the red circle on the top is where Our Friend was, way down a very steep ditch behind a guard rail. He thought he was hidden, but that’s no match for my guardian angel. The red circle on the bottom of the picture is where I was able to pull over, perhaps 150 yards ahead.

All I had seen from some 50 yards before the guardrail was just some random bits of tattered fabric, looking ever so much like garbage, randomly poking above the grass line. But my Guardian Angel smacked me upside the head, indicating that it was Our Friend. I pulled over and hiked it back the 150 yards or so. And… it was him. Of course. Thanks, Guardian Angel.

I sat down, and he very calmly told me the entire alleged account about how he was allegedly disappeared, what was allegedly said, allegedly who said what, any alleged threats, the alleged whole lot of it. Horrifying. I can swear to it. It’s still hearsay, but… just… wow…

It’s quietly alleged that Our Friend has been allegedly committing allegedly imprisonable offenses, you know, so that he can be locked up with other street people and, you know what they’re like, and what they can do to you, it was allegedly said to him. If a judge during a court proceeding were to say such things, he could receive disciplinary action, suspension, removal from the bench, or even have criminal charges laid against him depending on the severity of the offense and the jurisdiction. I gotta wonder how that applies analogously to others in this fallen human society.

Let’s investigate the alleged crimes of Our Friend:

  • Our Friend is allegedly homeless, but we don’t know that. There have been plenty of people who do such things so as to write fascinating memoirs of human interest. For all we know, Our Friend could be a zillionaire. Our Friend is incredibly smart. At any rate, those who are homeless are allegedly not allowed in the city limits of Andrews, N.C. That would make it really difficult to go from homeless to having a roof over your head if you did, in fact, want government housing inside city limits.
    • I’m told by the town offices that there are no ordinances or policies about this that can be printed out at this precise moment for reading at my leisure since there is an active case before the Supreme Court concerning precisely this point.
  • Anyway, Our Friend is allegedly camping out, and camping out is allegedly not allowed in the city limits of Andrews, N.C.
    • As far as I can remember, for all the years I’ve known Our Friend, he’s never even once camped out. Perhaps someone can correct me on that, but I’m quite certain that if it ever happened, it hasn’t happened for years. Again, there are no ordinances or polices that can be printed out…
  • Our Friend is allegedly feeding the birds, you know, like people right around the world might toss a crumb or two to our eager feathered friends. I never even once saw this myself. I never saw any pigeons. Maybe it happened. I don’t know. I can’t remember seeing bird droppings. I can’t see how this is a problem. Allegedly, tossing a scrap to a bird is an alleged imprisonable offense. Maybe a crumb for the birds is considered criminal-level littering and disorderly conduct and crosses lines of DHHS standards of best health practices. Perhaps the birds needed to be masked what with avion flu being a threat once every other lifetime…
    • Of course, all of this is alleged, whether in regard to alleged ordinances, polices, local, state or federal laws. I don’t know. I’m not an attorney. But now I’m wondering if I gotta take down my bird feeder, or stop my neighbor who fills up the feeder in front of my picture window.
  • Our Friend is allegedly feeding the cats, I suppose, just my opinion, because the cats have not betrayed him, beat him up, shook him down, tried to gauge out his eyes, or wanted him disappeared or dead. Allegedly, feeding the cats is an alleged imprisonable offense.
    • While I have seen Our Friend feeding cats, I gotta say that it’s done with utmost decorum and cleanliness. This isn’t tossing rubbish scraps everywhere. No, no. This is more like fine dining. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that Our Friend ties a linin bib on the cats as they quietly munch down, but almost. I gotta wonder if service dogs can get a treat for a job well done, or if a SWAT team will descend on any offending ADA party with a service-dog.

Now, add to all this the alleged threat of having Our Friend not only arrested and transported to his incarceration, but also allegedly telling him that he will forthwith be put in with other alleged street people. Our Friend was allegedly told that those alleged street people could allegedly do him harm. All this for feeding the birds and the cats.

With everything else going on in town, all the drugs and arsons and what-not, this seems to me to be about the most grotesque alleged abuse of office I’ve come across in a long time. Our Friend is elderly, suffering, and a veteran.

Let’s rewrite that video dialogue:

  • Undecipherable I.D., expired. Thirty-eight bucks. And a tooth brush. But no home address. In other words, homeless. Aggravated homelessness for someone who doesn’t drink and isn’t on drugs is a first degree offense against those in this town… Mister… No-Family. First name Our Friend. No middle name. You’re lookin’ at ten to twenty years once those good-ol-boys you’ve outwitted recover their sense of entitlement in their safe spaces. Process him. Get him to county.

It’s because Our Friend prays for his enemies that he’s the guy they didn’t count on.

Oh, and for anyone interested: Our Friend has absolutely zero intention of returning to Andrews, NC. He will “Never go back.”

God bless you and keep you, Our Friend.

Pray for us who are your friends and are still here.

! עם ישראל חי !

6 Comments

Filed under Homelessness, Spiritual life

Tagged as ,

2024-03-12 · 7:44 am

Thanks Michael Matt. No one else has said it as well. Unite the clans.

I’m 99.99% in agreement. Very rare. I’m so enthused I have to put up this video as well:

4 Comments

Filed under Spiritual life

Tagged as , ,