Thursday, December 31, 2020
John and Me
The 2020 Reading Tally
The Virtue Driven Life by Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel, C.F.R.
Love … An Experience Of by Peter McWilliams
Beauteous Truth: Faith, Reason, Literature and Culture by Joseph Pearce
As You Like It by William Shakespeare
Santa Claus Is for Real by Charles Edward Hall (with Bret Witter)
Holiday Tales: Christmas in the Adirondacks by F.W.W. Murray
The Spear by Louis de Wohl
Blue Water Line Blues (chapbook) by David Michael Nixon
Hunting the World (chapbook) by David Michael Nixon
Tales of a Magic Monastery by Theophane the Monk
St. Nicholas The Wonder Worker by Anne E. Neuberger
North of Boston by Robert Frost
Poetry of the Spirit edited by Gerard E. Goggins
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Black as Night: A Fairy Tale Retold by Regina Doman
God's Door-Keepers: Padre Pio, Solanus Casey, and Andre Bessette by Joel Schorn
Earth Keeper by N. Scott Momaday
A Book of Bees by Sue Hubbell
Bundled Wildflowers - Haiku Society of America 2020 Members' Anthology
Searching for and Maintaining Peace by Father Jacques Philippe
Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie
The History of the Honey Bee by E. Readicker-Henderson
Dead Man's Ransom by Ellis Peters
Live Not By Lies: A Manual for Christian Dissidents by Rod Dreher
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie
Enchantment of the World: Scotland by Dorothy B. Sutherland
Heritage of Scotland by Nathaniel Harris
A Surfeit of Similes by Norton Juster
This Side of Jordan by Bill Kassel
The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Twenty Poems to Pray by Gary M. Bouchard
In the School of the Holy Spirit by Jacques Philippe
Now and In Other Days by Yehuda Amichai
Classic Haiku edited by Tom Lowenstein
A Boy's Will by Robert Frost
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
1984 by George Orwell
Writing Straight with Crooked Lines: A Memoir by Jim Forest
Silent Night: The Story of The World War I Christmas Truce by Stanley Weintraub
Red Scarf Girl by Ji-Li Jiang
Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The Winter's Tale by Shakespeare
Mr. Blue by Myles Connolly
The Screwtape Letters (with "Screwtape Proposes a Toast") by C. S. Lewis
The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K, Chesterton
Knight of the Holy Ghost by Dale Ahlquist
The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin
The Code of the Woosters by P. G. Wodehouse
The Mass of Brother Michel by Michael Kent
Pete Seeger: The Smithsonian Folkways Collection
My Name is Lazarus edited by Dale Ahlquist
Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss
Saint Jose: Boy Cristero Martyr by Father Kevin McKenzie
You pro-lifers only care about babies (and their mothers) before they are born ...
Wednesday, December 30, 2020
Planned Parenthood Office Closing
For more than a decade, prolifers have been gathering every Saturday - sun, rain, snow - across from the Greece N.Y. Planned Parenthood office to pray. I have been part of those vigils for many of those years.
Planned Parenthood of Western and Central New York has announced that the Greece death center will be permanently closed as of January 1, 2021.
Someone reported that a sign posted on the door says they will be moving to Henrietta later in 2021. Let us pray that does not happen.
Now, to be completely honest, the closing may be due more to economic or logistic factors than to a change of heart on the part of the misguided souls who run Planned Parenthood. Apparently the site where this office was located is going to be demolished and developed. Still, getting out of this area is good. But even if it is due to economic reasons, God sometimes responds to prayers in ways we don't expect!
Meanwhile, we can now focus our prayer efforts on the main office in Rochester.
Tuesday, December 29, 2020
at the funeral
Monday, December 28, 2020
Peter McWilliams ... An Experience Of
Sunday, December 27, 2020
The Pleasures of Reading and Rereading
Friday, December 25, 2020
The Church Waits With Open Doors
Recipe for Christmas
All talking, laughing, crying, and remembering.
Angela had certainly touched many lives, he thought. She will always be with us.
He walked over to his wife, Helen, and put his arm around her shoulder.
“How are you holding up?” He asked.
“Better than I thought,” she said, her eyes glistening and her voice sounding thicker than normal.
She went off to greet another distant relative Frank vaguely remembered from a gathering of Paolottos.
He continued to wander through the mourners, listening to snippets of conversation.
“Remember when she prepared the entire meal …”
“She brought over clothes after the fire …”
“The Altar Rosary Society will have a hard time …”
“When my father died, she was there with cookies …”
“She put us up for two days during the ice storm …”
“She sat with me for hours at the hospital …”
“Every year, there was always a card with a special message …”
“She had 50 people over for Easter dinner …”
Yes, his mother-in-law had touched a lot of people. He had benefitted from her kindness many times, even when he was just dating Helen.
And yes, Angela certainly could cook and bake. He recalled the many meals at the old family home. The pasta dishes. The meats and fish. Grilled eggplant. The savory soups. Calamari al Forno. The pies and cakes. Almond cookies. The home-made breads. There was always more than he could eat. And there were always leftovers to take home and enjoy for days after.
Helen had inherited her mother’s gift for cooking. But whenever she cooked a big or complicated meal, she would call her mother multiple times for advice, or suggestions, or encouragement.
Following the wake, in the safety of home and after the children were in bed, Helen’s held-back tears finally unleashed. Frank held her. There was nothing he could say or do.
“It will never be the same,” she sobbed.
The next day at the funeral, Father Orlando, an old family friend, had the packed church alternately laughing and crying as he told stories about Angela. He ended by saying she has finally gone home to truly live up to her name.
Two days later, Frank and Helen drove over to Angela’s home. Marie and Julie, Helen’s sisters, and their respective spouses, were to meet them there to begin the process of deciding what to do with all of Angela’s possessions.
It was a crisp November day. The last leaves were dropping from the trees, and there was a hint of snow in the air.
Frank and Helen arrived first. They unlocked the front door, and were greeted by the sweet smell of olive oil and tomato sauce. Angela had been cooking the day she died. She had just finished a meal to deliver to a family with a new born child – one of her many little kindnesses – when she sat down in an easy chair in the living room to rest, and her generous heart, damaged by childhood illness, had simply given out. Doctors said it likely had been sudden and painless.
Helen looked around the room.
“Most of this will go in the estate sale,” she sighed.
Frank pointed to the bell on the mantelpiece.
The bell was a family tradition. It was an old hand bell Angela had used to summon Helen and her sisters home when they were young, and her late husband Tony from his workshop in the garage. In subsequent years, it was used to beckon the grandchildren and the assorted other young relatives at family gatherings to come in from play, or to signal the assorted visitors that whatever feast they had gathered to enjoy was ready.
“I think that should go with us,” he said.
Helen just nodded.
“Anything else you want to keep?”
“No, most of it is old and old-fashioned,” she said. “Maybe some photo albums, or some of her jewelry. I’ll have to see what everyone else wants.”
The other sisters arrived shortly thereafter.
They hugged and cried and hugged some more. Then they began to wander through the house to decide what to do.
The other husbands followed the women. Frank did not want to wander, so he went in the kitchen instead and sat at the kitchen table he had sat at many times before.
The kitchen was spotless – friends and relatives had cleaned up after Angela’s death. As for the meal for the family with the new baby, it had of course been delivered. A gift from Angela even after she had gone.
He decided to make a cup of coffee. He put the kettle on and looked in the cabinet for instant coffee.
He found it, and then spotted two old shoe boxes stuffed with papers and index cards.
He carried the boxes back to the table and looked through them while the water heated.
The first box contained addresses and all sorts of Christmas/Birthday/Easter/Get Well and other cards.
The second box contained recipes.
Hundreds of them.
He pulled out one for lasagna. As he looked at the ingredients, he could taste it in his mind.
His mouth began to water. He chuckled.
He sorted through other recipes.
Lentil soup. Spaghetti sauce. Pecan pie. Ginger snaps.
His water boiled. He made his coffee, and then returned the coffee and the recipes to the cabinet.
He sipped the coffee and looked at the wall above the stove. There was a small plaque with a poem.
Bless this kitchen, Lord,
and
those who gather here each day.
Let
it be a place where we can meet
to love and laugh and pray.
Amen.
He decided to ask if they could have it for their kitchen as a way to remember Angela.
He sipped his coffee.
For some reason, he remembered one particular visit many years ago.
He was a struggling first-year teacher. He wanted to quit.
He had come that day to pick up Helen, who was still a senior in college and was home for a visit. But she was not back from an errand yet.
Angela invited Frank into the kitchen. She was baking pies, and the kitchen was full of the sweet smell.
Without asking, she had poured him a cup of coffee, and put some cookies on a plate in front of him.
She sat down.
“Helen is so proud of you,” she said.
“Proud?”
“Yes, a teacher. That is a noble career. She says you are very good with the children.”
He shook his head, and suddenly out poured all his fears and struggles. Classroom management. Keeping on top of the papers and tests. Planning lessons. Taking night classes to finish his Master’s Degree. The struggles of a naturally shy person to be always “on” when in class. The constant state of tiredness.
“I just don’t know if it’s the right thing for me,” he said softly.
Angela reached across the table and touched his arm.
“I can tell how much you love the children. And you love to write. Angela showed me some of your things. They’re very good. She says you share that love with the children. That is good. A caring teacher can touch so many lives. Keep writing and teaching, if that is what you are called to do. If not, you will find a way. I can see that in you. Just keep doing the best you can. That is all anyone can do.”
She squeezed his arm and smiled.
That was 15 years ago. He was now the chairman of the English Department. And very happy in his career.
He sighed and finished his coffee. He washed the cup, and set off in search of his wife and the others.
They were all sitting on the bed in the master bedroom looking at photo albums.
The three women were all crying and laughing at the same time.
Frank decided to wait to ask about the prayer.
They spent the rest of the day looking through the house. By day’s end the daughters had all decided who was going to get what, with items being scattered far and wide among relatives and family friends. The rest would go in an estate sale.
They also decided that the family Thanksgiving gathering would be at the McCarthy home.
That meant weeks of cleaning, and shopping. Helen was in her element, organizing and planning, calling her sisters and the cousins who would also be cooking, doling out assignments.
Frank had his duties, too. Mostly, they involved runs to the store, hauling tables and chairs, and staying out of the way.
Thanksgiving morning, he ventured into the kitchen. Helen was crying.
“Honey?” He asked.
“I know I’m being stupid,” she said. “About now I would have been calling mom to ask some cooking questions.”
He kissed her on the head.
“Nothing stupid about it.”
Soon the relatives arrived. The house was full of laughter and compliments on the food, and talk of previous celebrations with Angela.
It was fitting that Angela came up at such a feast, he thought.
Later that night, while on dish duty, he looked above the stove and suddenly remembered the prayer in Angela’s kitchen.
And that’s when the idea hit him. He smiled. Then he wondered if he would have time.
The next few weeks were busy with packing up of the house and getting ready for the estate sale. They had decided to wait until January, after all the holidays.
He helped when he could, but he also stayed at school extra late many nights, and even going in on weekends. Helen was used to that. He was involved with so many student groups and clubs. Only now, he had gotten the students on the school newspaper he moderated to help with a special project.
In between sessions on the computers, he made many phone calls. He also stopped by Angela’s house when he was sure no one else would be around.
Still, he was afraid that his special project would not be completed in time for Christmas.
But when he submitted the last section the week before Christmas, the last of more than 200 pages, he breathed a sigh of relief. The printer with whom he worked for the school newspaper was in on the nature of the project, and assured him it would be done in time.
The next week, he waited, anxious every time the phone rang.
Meanwhile, Helen was caught up again in her role as Angela’s heir, preparing for a feast on Christmas Day and the arrival again of many hungry relatives.
When the call finally came, he said he had to go out for some last minute shopping. Helen was so busy she barely noticed.
Christmas Eve, they went to the Family Christmas Mass, then returned home to ready for the next day.
In the morning, Frank, Helen, and the children opened their gifts. Squeals of pleasure. Wrappings piled high. Hugs all around.
After cleaning up, and leaving the children to their new delights, Frank and Helen headed into the kitchen to finish preparing the food.
The sisters’ families, and several of the cousins and their families, arrived shortly after noon.
They were talking in the living room, snacking away, laughing, when Frank came down from the attic carrying a box. He also had Angela’s hand bell.
He stood at the living room entrance and rang the bell. Everyone turned to him in surprise.
“Before we eat, I wanted to give out some special gifts,” he said. “Please don’t open them until everyone has one.”
He distributed packages to his wife, her sisters, and all the cousins.
“Okay,” he said. “Open them.”
They all started unwrapping. Suddenly there were gasps, and “Oh my Gods.”
Each person held a book. On the cover was a picture of Angela in her apron, above the words, “Recipes for Love.”
Inside were many of her special recipes, interspersed with pictures of Angela cooking, with her three daughters, with Tony, and of family gatherings. There were also many stories of her kindnesses that he’d collected by phone.
And on the first page was the kitchen poem.
“Merry Christmas from Angela,” he said.
Helen rushed over to him and fiercely hugged him.
Around the room people were tearing up and laughing as they looked through the book.
Yes, he thought, Angela will always be with us.
Wednesday, December 23, 2020
Weekly Diet Update (12/23/20)
― Marika Christian
Tuesday, December 22, 2020
Monday, December 21, 2020
Currently reading - Shakespeare!
The Taming of the Shrew
Romeo and Juliet
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
The Merchant of Venice
Henry IV Part I
Henry V
Julius Caesar
Hamlet
Othello
King Lear
Macbeth
The Winter’s Tale
The Tempest
Sunday, December 20, 2020
50 Books - With a fitting #50
The Spear - Louis de Wohl
According to the blurb on the back of the book, Louis de Wohl considered The Spear his "magnum opus." Having read an enjoyed several of his Catholic historical novels, I can see why he thought that.
Saturday, December 19, 2020
Following the Pope - Saint John Henry Cardinal Newman
And now, though I might say much more about the prerogatives of the Holy Father, the visible head of the Church, I have said more than enough for the purpose which has led to my speaking about him at all. I have {286} said that, like St. Peter, he is the Vicar of his Lord. He can judge, and he can acquit; he can pardon, and he can condemn; he can command and he can permit; he can forbid, and he can punish. He has a Supreme jurisdiction over the people of God. He can stop the ordinary course of sacramental mercies; he can excommunicate from the ordinary grace of redemption; and he can remove again the ban which he has inflicted. It is the rule of Christ's providence, that what His Vicar does in severity or in mercy upon earth, He Himself confirms in heaven. And in saying all this I have said enough for my purpose, because that purpose is to define our obligations to him. That is the point on which our Bishop has fixed our attention; "our obligations to the Holy See;" and what need I say more to measure our own duty to it and to him who sits in it, than to say that in his administration of Christ's kingdom, in his religious acts, we must never oppose his will, or dispute his word, or criticise his policy, or shrink from his side? There are kings of the earth who have despotic authority, which their subjects obey indeed but disown in their hearts; but we must never murmur at that absolute rule which the Sovereign Pontiff has over us, because it is given to him by Christ, and, in obeying him, we are obeying his Lord. We must never suffer ourselves to doubt, that, in his government of the Church, he is guided by an intelligence more than human. His yoke is the yoke of Christ, he has the responsibility of his own acts, not we; and to his Lord must he render account, not to us. Even in secular matters it is ever safe to be on his side, dangerous to be on the side of his enemies. {287} Our duty is,—not indeed to mix up Christ's Vicar with this or that party of men, because he in his high station is above all parties,—but to look at his formal deeds, and to follow him whither he goeth, and never to desert him, however we may be tried, but to defend him at all hazards, and against all comers, as a son would a father, and as a wife a husband, knowing that his cause is the cause of God. And so, as regards his successors, if we live to see them; it is our duty to give them in like manner our dutiful allegiance and our unfeigned service, and to follow them also whithersoever they go, having that same confidence that each in his turn and in his own day will do God's work and will, which we have felt in their predecessors, now taken away to their eternal reward.
- From St. Newman's sermon "The Pope and the Revolution"
"...we must never oppose his will, or dispute his word, or criticise his policy, or shrink from his side ..."
Wednesday, December 16, 2020
Memorare to St. Joseph
Remember, O most chaste spouse of the Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who implored your help and sought your intercession were left unassisted.
Full of confidence in your power I fly unto you and beg your protection.
Despise not O Guardian of the Redeemer my humble supplication, but in your
bounty, hear and answer me. Amen.
Act of
Consecration to St. Joseph
O dearest St. Joseph, I consecrate myself to your honor and give myself to you, that you may always be my father, my protector and my guide in the way of salvation.
Obtain for me a greater purity of heart and fervent love of the interior life.
After your example may I do all my actions for the greater glory of God, in
union with the Divine Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
O Blessed St. Joseph, pray for me, that I may share in the peace and joy of
your holy death. Amen.
Weekly Diet Update (12/16/20)
Tuesday, December 15, 2020
St. Joseph in the Bible
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus. Mathew 1 18-25
Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.” Matthew 2: 13-15
When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.” Matthew 2: 19-23
Matthew's version contains the flight into Egypt. Luke adds some details to that infancy - including the census that led to the trip to Bethlehem, Simeon's prophecy, and the losing of Jesus at the Temple when He was 12.
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2: 1-7
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. Luke 2 15-16
When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”
Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon[f] came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying,
“Master,
now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your
salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the
Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.”
And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2: 22-35
When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.
Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. Luke 2: 39-51
John has only one mention of Joseph - and it's in the context of what appears to be an attempted insult:
Then the Jews began to complain about him
because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They were
saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?
How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” John 6:41–42
There are other details about St. Joseph from other sources. I'll look at them in a later post.