SHORT STORY WEEK INSTALLMENT I

I know, I know.  You came here today hoping to find Monday Diary.  I honestly couldn't think of anything today - I think I am suffering from empty nest syndrome - all my priest and seminarians buddies are either back at school or on vacation.  BUT!  I haven't written a serial short story in a loooooooong time and this one came to me yesterday and was just bursting to get out so this week will be short story serial week!  Here is the first installment.  (I don't have a title for it yet.)

“Perfect.”

It was said softly, under his breath, and with the proper sarcasm that meant the situation was anything but.  Father Andrews was taking his dog for a walk on the trails through the woods, but where the trail forked as it entered the first stand of trees, there were two young ladies sitting and apparently texting each other for although they were facing each other, neither looked up nor said a word.  They giggled but other than that were still as the trees.

“Of all places to sit!” he muttered to himself in his head, “the one spot where there is no easy way around them.  It's almost as if they planned it.  And now the dog will bark and lunge, probably making them scream.  What an annoyingly stupid place to plop down and do nothing.  I wonder what their mothers would think.  But hey, that’s the way it is so here we go.”

Amazingly, the dog didn’t bark.  In fact, he went on sniffing at the plants at the side of the trail as if the silent squatters were not even there.

“Hello.”

The priest looked down at the girls whose hair didn’t so much as blow in the breeze.  Staring at the top of their heads he said hello back.  “Or did I say hello?” he thought, “I don’t actually remember vocalizing it.  But I must have.  Right?”

“You did,” came a different voice.  It was if the voice was in his head.

“So what are the two of you doing sitting here blocking the most awkward part of the trail?”  Am I really that rude to say that to them?

There was a giggle.  That definitely landed in his ear.  But then the queer sensation that a voice was in his head said, “We were waiting for you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.  Of course.”

“Why were you waiting for me?  Do I know you?”

“We have come to grant you four wishes.”

“Ha!  Four wishes did you say?”  Fr. Andrews felt the mirth in his chest and his face brightened.  “That is very kind of you.”

“Oh, we are quite serious.”

“Are you now?  And what kind of wishes do you grant?”

“Any kind of wish that you want.”

“Like a genie in a lamp type wish.”

“Something like that,” said one voice, and then, “Except this is for real,” finished the other.

“How terribly interesting,” the priest said trying his best not to roll his eyes, “but shouldn’t it be three wishes, not four?  Isn’t that how it goes?”

“It would if you were in a fairy tale and we were fairies,” said one and then the other finished, “which you are not and which we are not.”  The first continued, “In real life, each wish granter,” here the other interjected, “which is what we are,” then the first continued, “is permitted to grant any person they choose two wishes.  There are two of us, each of us has two wishes to give you, and that equals four.”

 

The dog pulled on his leash wanting to go down the trail.  Scratching his bearded chin and creasing his brow Fr. Andrew said slowly, “Well, thank you very much.  I’ll give it some thought.  But it looks like the dog wants to go on his walk now.”

“Wise dog,” said the second voice.  “But there is a catch,” said the first voice.

“Ah, there’s always a catch isn’t there.”

“Not a difficult one,” said the second voice.  “It’s just that the first wish must be made now.” said the first.”

“I see,” said Father.  Wishes started cycling through his head before the thought popped up that he could not believe that he was taking this even mildly seriously.  Just the same he wanted to be careful.  If fairytales taught him anything, it was that greed always ended badly.  It was only when he thought of the most innocuous wish he could muster that he let slip out, “I wish a was a far greater pastor of my parish.”

“DONE!” said both voices together just as the dog jerked the priest down the trail.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: WHEN MORE IS LESS

80% of holiness is presence.

That is what one of my spiritual directors in the past said.  I suppose that I cannot refute that statement.  But I might add that prayer is a lot like exercise.  The first 80% might be good for you, but it is the last 20% that really is the most beneficial.

Showing up as a warm body for Mass may be 80% of holiness, but the last 20% is what pushes everything over the top.  Moving into Chapter III of the GIRM (and skipping over paragraphs until we get to ‘THE FUNCTIONS OF THE PEOPLE” para 95.  When we celebrate the Mass, the congregation forms the People of God, “a royal nation, a holy priesthood, a people set apart” as the preface goes.  During the Mass, all are to participate in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice.  In this way, we offer our very selves as part of the sacrifice.

Pope Benedict, much vilified in certain circles, was a HUGE proponent of this.  Forget having 5 people read the petitions, three lectors, 500 EMHC in order that people might be “more involved.”  In fact, those persons are LESS involved because they are being taken away from their primary and earth shattering duty of offering the Mass by virtue of their anointing at their baptism into the priesthood of the people.  (We do a huge disservice in grade schoolers by making up ministries in order to get the children to feel more active.  We should be promoting their primary role and building that up!)  Being in an extra ministry is not part of that extra 20%.  It is more like being a dishwasher in the kitchen.  You are still at the party, but you are not celebrating, you are performing a service so that others may more fully participate.  (That may be a bit extreme but . . . you know.)

The true extra 20% is listening, growing, participating, and praying; thanking, worshipping, petitioning, and asking for forgiveness for yourself, your loved ones, for the world, and those who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith. 

YOU CAN PLEASE ALL OF THE PEOPLE SOME OF THE TIME . . .

Not too long ago we went from permanent pastorates to term limits in our diocese.  I was on the committee.  One of the points I bought up was that the reason there are two methods (you may have one or the other in a diocese, not one for some and one for others) is that they both come with their own set of problems.  Neither is particularly better than the other.  With one there is a particular set of difficulties and advantages and likewise with the other.  So today we have what we have and while it cleared up a lot of difficulties in the diocese, we are faced with a whole new set.

Many people would like to see a more Protestant form of choosing a pastor: that of a board at any given parish hiring and firing the priest.  Once again, that would mean some great advantages and some disadvantages.  One of the (depending on who you are this is either a dis or an advantage) is this: because a pastor does not have to worry about teaching and preaching about something that pleases a board, he may be more daring.  If a parish has a large percentage of euthanasia proponents, for example, he need not fear for his livelihood preaching that older Americans are people with dignity and rights too and should be treated as such..

Leading a parish, in some ways, is not much different than being the mayor of a town.  There are decisions that you make that you know will leave 10% ecstatic, 10% furious, and most the rest just fine.  Sometimes you weigh popular demand, sometimes you weigh Church teaching, sometimes you guess and you try to remember that the worst thing is not that someone might be angry because if they are angry, they are still invested.

It is an imperfect world and all of our human institutions, even those inspired by God Himself, are imperfect and are incapable of pleasing everybody so you try not to take it seriously when you’ve not pleased everyone.

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK CCCLIX

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND:  "Honking horns and computer screens and long lines in airplane terminals can make us sick, but the stress of living near saber-toothed cats on the prowl was probably sickening too.  Maybe balancing on the edge between sickness and health is what it is to be alive."  

IN OTHER NEWS:

MONDAY DIARY: ALMOST EXCRUCIATINGLY TRUE STORIES: JUST WHEN YOU THINK EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL

Sebastian (my dog) had a play date the other day with Atticus and Monsignor, the dogs of two other pastors.  (Talk about three pretentious names for a pack of dogs.)  We all got together along with a couple of seminarians for an afternoon.

I needed to lock up the church and so invited the seminarians who had not been in the church before to join me for a little tour.  As we were about to enter the secret tunnel from the rectory to the church (which is neither a secret nor a tunnel) the dogs sat at the door with pathetic looks on their faces.  

Sebastian often goes with me to lock up the church.  At least one time he has caught someone hanging out in a hidey hole and assisted me in escorting the person out of the building before the locks were engaged.  One of the many perks of having a rectory dog.  Atticus too has joined us on the final locking up rounds.  But Monsignor, being just a wee pup has never had the opportunity.  All the same, all three were invited to walk with us on our rounds of the doors of the church.

When we were at the rear of the church, the whole pack was escorted up into the choir loft so I could show them the new organ.

I fired her up and told them that I was going to play a little on it for their entertainment and edification.  But first I wanted to demonstrate what the mighty organ could do and nothing is more powerful and shocking as the Festival Trumpets!

Yep.  We scared the p**p out of the dog. 

And they all got to go back to the party and I stayed in the choir loft to undo the redecorating job performed by Monsignor.  So perhaps there are really good reasons for not letting animals in the church and let that be a lesson to you young priests out there.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: IS IT ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ OR HOME SWEET HOME?

Say that you are invited over for dinner to somebody’s house: when is the proper time to leave?  Perhaps there are those who, in not really wanting to be there in the first place, try to leave after the main course but before desert thinking they have fulfilled their obligation to “eat dinner.”  There are those who will stay for desert but then skedaddle not staying for postprandials and taking pride in the fact that they stayed for the entirety the request.  There are those who will gladly stay for a digestive and thank their hosts for a wonderful evening. Then there are those who will simply not go home even after the host has put on his pajamas.

Mass is much the same.  Citing pre-Vatican II rubrics there are those who leave after Communion because they have fulfilled the minimal requirements of getting there in time for the Gospel and staying through the reception of Communion.  This is particularly prevalent in parishes that have poor parking lots with minimal exits to busy roads.  There are those who will not stay for the closing song since, “It really isn’t part of the Mass.”  There are those who will stay and offer a prayer of thanks to God for the graces received and perhaps stay for donuts and/or conversation with parishioners.  Then there are those who will not go home.

Ever.

So when does Mass end?  The final rubrics in this part of the GIRM (paragraph 90) say four things make up the concluding rite.  (Note that the Prayer after Communion is not part of this because, as you can tell from the title, it is part of the Communion Rite.  These four points immediately follow.

ONE: With heavy heart I report that the first is “any announcements” but stress the second part states, “should they be necessary.”  And really, how necessary are they?  (I know, I know - get over it.)

TWO: The priest’s greeting (the Lord be with you) followed by the blessing.

THREE: The dismissal, “So that the people may go to continue doing good works, praising and blessing God.”

FOUR:  The reverencing of the altar (when the priest kisses the altar) followed by the profound bow (or genuflection if the Blessed Sacrament is in the sanctuary.)

That’s it.  So technically you have fully participated in the strictest requirements of the Mass if you stay for the bow or genuflection.  Time to hit the beach!  Unfortunately for such, point four usually takes place during a hymn - and it would be rude to lead the priest down the main aisle so that you can get to your car before anybody else.  

Now as a priest, I have to remember there are all kinds of reasons that people leave Mass early and they are not all owing to minimalist participation; someone at home is ill, work starts in 10 minutes, the kid just soiled himself, they guy you owe money to is in the first pew. . . 

My suggestion?  (This is not the official teaching of the Catholic Church.)  On average, neither a borrower or a lender be.  Remember this is about being in love with Somebody.  When you were thinking of getting married, eating dinner with your prospective in-laws may not have been one of your top 100 things to do on a Friday night but you did it and stuck around a little after for love of your fiancé.  So minimally stay for the closing hymn or at least until the priest is gone.  Say a quick prayer of thanks.  (Saying, “Thank you God that was awesome” is better than saying nothing at all.)  And say “hello” to a couple of your brothers and sisters on your way out.  

On the other hand, when all the lights have been turned out, the doors are locked, and it is you and one other person, and the priest is leaning up against his car in his bathing suite twirling his keys and he nieces and nephews crying to go to the beach, you might want to consider taking the conversation to the coffee house.

MONUMENTS AND MONUMENTS

Every brick at St. Sebastian Parish is from the Belden Brick Company in Ohio.  Every brick in our nine buildings was designated where to go by Robert Kraus Sr.  He grew up in Akron and went to St. Bernard Parish School with our founding pastor Monsignor Zwisler.  Monsignor went on to Rome to study and become a priest and Mr. Kraus became an architect opening his offices in the Highland Square area, a hop, skip, and a jump from St. Sebastian.

When (then) Father Zwisler was brought to Akron to found a new parish, his old school chum gave him space for a parish office at his architectural firm and they set about designing first building; a combination church, school, convent, and hall, a building that has held up spectacularly for almost 90 years.

Since then, other buildings have dotted our campus.  The most recent one, the “new” church had the cornerstone set in 1958.  It was this building that his son, Mr. Bob Kraus assisted is some of the design.  Later, the son would go on to design many ecclesial buildings in the Diocese of Cleveland including such places as St. Francis de Sales in Portage Lakes, Sacred Heart in Barberton, and St. Ambrose in Brunswick.  He died this past week and his funeral is today.  What a legacy to leave behind.  His work for the Lord will stand for generations.

But there is one thing that we can do that will stand even longer - guaranteed.  Whether you are a parent, Godparent, catechist, priest, deacon, or supporter, when you help guide a soul toward baptism and faith, you establish a work that lasts eternally.  When the memory of you work fades on earth, the monument built by your efforts is still shiny, new, and impressive in the eternal kingdom.

THE TRIP CONTINUED . . .

We left the basilica and headed out to the reception.  We were stopped by a kindly nun on the narrow road confined by a low and sturdy stone wall like you might find in Ireland (in fact. the Irish who were with us remarked that it was about time they saw a stone wall in the United States) in front of the villa.  She informed us that we would have to park down the street and that a shuttle would bring us up the reception.

The bus dropped us off on the sprawling lawns, dotted with enormous trees and three giant white tents just a tad smaller than circus tents.  The sisters were busy with preparations and we were escorted into the villa, owned by the Knights of Columbus and which is used to host retreats by the sisters.  Despite the enormous space allocated for the event, it was quite packed with the Sisters of Life, other religious orders of women and men, priests, family, and well wishers.  

The sisters were expert in feeding a lot of people quickly.  It must be one of their charisms.  

We sat at tables on white chairs and feasted and talked with the many people there.  Then later, standing on the lawn, I heard a jazz band start playing.  I thought they were Okay until I turned around and saw that I could not see them.  They were entirely hidden by the bushes.  It was not owing the the hight of the bushes for they were short, but that the musicians were under 10 years of age AND AMAZING.

They stood on the front porch of the villa which was designed a little bit like a stage.  The villa originally belonged to a famous, 19th century playwright whose name escapes me at the moment.  He used to put on plays there and today it was being used as a stage.

We returned the next day for Mass in the villa chapel and for brunch beneath the tents once again.  The stage was set up again and talented members of the families of the women who took their vows the day before entertained us with singing, dancing, instrumental recitals, and stories.  

Then it was time for us to leave and say goodbye.  The day was not over for the Sisters however.  Later in the afternoon they would gather to hear what their new assignments were going to be and they were quite excited.  We retreated back to the hotel and spent the remainder of the evening (after a hardy nap) teaching the Irish how to play cards.

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK CCCLVIII

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND:  "'Diversity' and 'Inclusion' are vague and uncertain terms that can mean almost anything."  from Mickey Mattos' article, "Marquette's Gender Regime"

QUOTE II:  

St. Andrew Day, 1935

by George Orwell

The lord of all, the money-god

Who rule us blood and hand and brain,

Who gives the roof that stops the wind

And, giving, takes away again.

Who binds with chains the poet's wit

The navvy's strength, the soldiers pride,

And lays the sleek, estranging shield

Between the lover and his bride.

Christopher Hollis, a friend of Orwell, recalls, "One of the most interesting and deepest of Orwell's beliefs was his belief in the profound evil of contraception."

IN OTHER NEWS:

Well this is terrible interesting.  Russ sent in an article entitled, "Physicists Claim that Consciousness Lives in Quantum State After Death.  Read more HERE.  Thanks!

And now I thought I would show you my vacation photos!

Visiting my sister in upstate New York meant hiking in the Adirondacks.  This sign warning of bear activity was thought provoking.  Years ago - many years ago - I did run in to a bear up there.  It was the only time I'd ever seen my mother run.

All things have small beginnings.  You were once just a twinkle in your Mother's eye.  Below is reportedly the headwater for the Hudson River, here just a trickle in it's Creator's eye.

 I just liked the shadows on this rock.  It didn't come out in the picture as well as I would have liked.

So, for those of you who live in Akron and read the Beacon Journal, you know about the time Goodyear had an art sale as they relieved themselves of all of the art in their corporate headquarters which now I believe is an apartment building.  One of the items for sale was a set of taxidermied boxing squirrels for tens of thousands of dollars.  I always wondered WHO could and would pay that much for them.  I found out.  Here they are as decorations in a bathroom.  

This is a door bell.  A DOOR BELL!  I NEED one.

Here is the next installment of the Crash Coarse in Philosophy.

MONDAY DIARY: TO LIFE! TO LIFE! L'CHAIM!

I know.  I know.  I mysteriously disappeared.

I didn’t give up on the blog.  I didn’t do something so mundane as to run away.

But I did go on an adventure.

Last Friday I got up, had Mass, packed up the car, and took off for Connecticut, a state to which I’d never been.  Along the way I picked up Fr. Peter (you remember him?)

and we set off toward the rising sun to witness something I’d never seen before.

St. Clare in Lyndhurst (where this blog was conceived) was the home of a lovely young lady named Brigid.  It was also the my last parish assignment and the home parish of Fr. Peter.  Brigid had determined that religious life was the life for her and after some searching decided to become one of the Sisters of Life in New York.  After years of formation, last Saturday she was to take her final vows and we went to witness and celebrate with her.

Fr. Bline and Fr. Kulway both from the Diocese of Cleveland.  Fr. Bline's first assignment was St. Clare.

Along the way we picked up two seminarians from Ireland who have been in Cleveland studying over the summer.  One’s name is Fergle (and I have no idea how to spell his name.)  He was the, how shall I say it?  Active one.  Loads of fun but terrible at cards.  Stephano was the quiet, deep voiced (sane) one.  They flew in to CT and took them the rest of the way.

So it was that on Saturday morning we put on our French cuffs, shined our shoes, and piled into the Buick for the journey to St. John’s Basilica.  I was unprepared.

The place was jammed!  There were people and cars everywhere.  It looked like the children’s Mass at Christmas except much more orderly.  As we walked along people would ask, “Where are you from?” to which I would proudly replay, “Cleveland” thinking that would get lots of “Ahs” and “Oohs” but instead I was greeted with, “Oh.  And with which sister are you associated?” 

I had naively assumed that our friend would be the ONLY one taking her final vows.  It did not occur to me that there would six!  And now that I think about it, that must be the more regular occurrence as 10 years ago there were only 40 some nuns and now there were over 100.

We vested in the basement and then came upstairs only to be recruited to sit in folding chairs on the immaculate lawn of the rectory to hear confessions.  As the hour approached, we were herded into processional lines and walked up the mountain of stairs to the doors and entered the basilica to the heavenly voices of the nuns and a few token males in the choir mixing their voices with the pipe organ and congregation.

The Mass was presided over by Bishop John J. O’Hara, Auxiliary Bishop of New York.  I was unfamiliar with him and I don’t know why because his homily knocked my socks off.  He knew exactly how to get the congregation whipped up and excited about God and the great work that was happening that day.  He also admitted that he had never done a profession before and was a bit nervous to get the ceremony correct.  But he was aided by expert Masters of Ceremonies whose abilities I greatly admire.  I have seen some MCs flap around the sanctuary like agitated ducks, flapping and quacking.  But this celebration was done with taste and decorum.  

The ceremony itself was remarkably similar to that of the ordination of priesthood.  The nuns were called forward one by one, knelt before their Mother Superior, stated their vows and the Mother would accept the vows.  I had an ideal seat and could see their faces as they knelt at the altar rail waiting for their turn to come forward.  The faces read everything from contemplation of the seriousness of the event to an overjoyed, “Let’s do it!” radiance.

Each of them then came forward and signed their vows which were placed on the altar followed by the entire order greeting each new sister with a formal hug, smile, and word of encouragement that was not unlike, after having been ordained, all the priests filing past the new priests and laying hands on them.

At the end, the Mother Superior thanked everyone who was present.  I was excited that the former papal nuncio Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano was in attendance.  The list of thanks was long but Cleveland got the most shout outs!  Thanks to the people from Cleveland who have supported the order.  Thanks to those from Cleveland who have supplied so much music over the years.  Thanks to the Irish seminarians who are studying this summer in Cleveland.  Thanks to (my buddies) the nuns from Christ the Bridegroom Monastery who made the trip in from Cleveland.

From left to right, me, Stephano, Sisters for Christ the Bridegroom Monastery in Burton, OH, Fergle, Fr. Kovacina.

But the longest, sustained applause was of course for the new sisters.  After we processed down the mountain of steps we saw the newly professed having their picture taken with Mother and the Bishop.  The sun was merciless but all of the nuns (even those all in black) seemed to take in stride.  I, however, was a total wimp and so we made our way to the car and the car’s air-conditioning to begin to unpack what we had been a part of and to look forward with great anticipation the reception.

Picture taken immediately after the Mass.  Sr. Brigid is the furthest left next to the bishop.

To be continued . . . 

SERENTY PRAYER

As a presbyterate we are about to embark on a planning session to decide what we are going to do about the number of parishes we have vs the number of priest we will have in the future.  There will be those who stand up and give an imploring speech that we should have married priests, female priests, and so forth.  Whether I agree or not, these things are not going to change within the next couple of years and we need to start taking control over those areas in which we can have some immediate effect.  

Another topic that will come up (again) is that priests should be relieved of all “business” responsibilities.  They should be able just to focus on sacraments (and the accompanying paperwork) and leave everything else to lay people.  That way the priests are freed up to do more of what priests are ordained to do and lay folks can take a stronger leadership role in the Church.

The only problem with this model is that it is not what Vatican II envisioned.  It would require more than changing the policies of a diocese, it would involve reworking international canon law, Church teaching, and the documents of Vatican II.  When a Catholic is baptized, he is also anointed priest, prophet, and king.  When a priest is ordained, it is understood that he too will fulfill all of these roles.  Administration is not just an extra tacked on to being a priest, it is a part of who he is called to be.  As “Father” and “pastor,” he is called to this role as much as is a father of a household is called to help manage the affairs of the family.  

A dad, ideally, not only supports his family, but offers himself in love, teaches, leads, and brings to Christ.  When one of these are not present we usually see a path to divorce or the result of divorce.  So it is with the Father of a parish.  These are his roles and so our focus on solving our problems will have to lie elsewhere.  

PETER WALKED ON WATER TOO

What the Church needs is more people who are willing to risk failure.  Say what you will about St. Peter, before he sank he did walk on the water, for at least a moment.  Nobody else even got out of the boat.

But Peter’s flaw was focusing on himself.  As long as he focused on Christ he was just fine.  The moment he started to worry and focus on himself, he began to sink.  I see this all the time.  I am guilty of this all of the time.

Here are some modern day examples:

The Spirit prompts to tell a young person that they have the traits of a good Church vocation, but then the self jumps in and say, “Oh, they’ll think I’m odd.  They don’t want to be bothered.  I don’t want to face their reaction.”

The Spirit prompts to ask someone, “Do you want to pray about it?”  But then the self jumps in and says, “Only weirdos do that.  What if they go spreading stories about me?”

The Spirit prompts you to say to someone, “Do you want to come to Mass with me?”  But the self jumps in and says, “You know they don’t want to.  They may laugh.  You do their private thing and they will do theirs.”

If more of us took the risk of trusting and stepping out of the boat, what a different seascape we would have.  If none of us do, this whole enterprise will stall.  But even if you fail, you were the one to step out of the boat.  You walked on the water for at least a moment!  Let the other person bring the act of faith to an end - not you.  God did not create us to guard our comfort.  He made us to walk on water.

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK CCCLVII

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND:  "Whatever the faithful may think, they do not 'give' peace during the celebration; rather they receive it from him who alone is our peace and who gives it within his body and through members ordained for this ministry."  Clips from readings that were sent to me from Mike during his summer reading.  Author unknown.  Thanks Mike!

QUOTE II:  "The indelible character, imparted on the soul by the sacrament of Order, cannot be privatized because it was given to the Church for the service of others.  The faithful . . . have a need of the sign value of a priest dressed as a priest."

QUOTE III:  "For a priest to dress in lay attire is to disguise the fact that his very raison d'être is to draw souls to Christ.  He has a representative role which is, as a consequence of ordination, part of his very being.  To dress as a priest is to give witness to the total commitment of one's life and to manifest the presence of Christ among men."

IN OTHER NEWS:

Cynthia sent in an article about archeology showing the accuracy of Scripture.  Interesting.  Thanks.  Read it HERE.

The picture below is a SMALL SAMPLE of a boat load of music offered to St. Sebastian from a Protestant church that is going through some consolidation.  The weird thing about it is that it is more Catholic in nature than the music I have found in most Catholic parishes.  Masses, Latin, Eucharist . . . Gads.  I hope we are able to release the notes from these pages.

I used this article from FOX news this weekend in my homily.  It has to do with putting the French priest's slaying in perspective  If you are going to click on at work, be aware that there is a video that starts playing when you open it up!  See it HERE.

Here is the next video on our crash course in philosophy.  10 and a half minutes.

MONDAY DIARY: ALMOST EXCRUCIATINGLY TRUE STORIES: DON'T SWEAT IT.

So last weekend the air conditioning went out in the church.  Of course it was the hottest week of the year.  This always seems to happen on the weekend during the hottest week of the year.  So we had a plan.  We were not only going to install new air conditioning (man is that expensive), we would also fix the old one so that if it EVER went down again, we would have a back up.

We were only waiting for a part to arrive and all would be well.  Regular calls to the trucking company informed us that everything was RIGHT ON SCHEDULE and that by Friday, worshipers would be able to return to their pews in the comfort of artificially chilled air.

Then, at the last possible moment, the company said, "Did we say on time?  We meant to say that it would late."  Of course that got my liturgical underwear in a bind and so told John our facilities manager to order emergency air conditioning in the form of a truck.  They came and pumped cool air into the church all weekend for less that the amount we lost in the collection the previous weekend because people went elsewhere to avoid the stifling church.

I didn't get to enjoy the free holy sauna the previous week.  "Sweating with the saints!"  I was in Steubenville in the air conditioned recreation center having Mass with hundreds of youth.  But I do sympathize with those, particularly those with breathing difficulties and other ailments, who need the cooled air.  I get that those extreme temperatures can be dangerous as well as uncomfortable.

I wonder how nuns survived in full habit during the summer without air conditioning all those centuries?