Meditation on a Pudding

MEDITATION ON A PUDDING

Let us seriously reflect of what a pudding is composed. It is composed of flour that once waved in the golden grain, and drank the dews of the morning; of milk pressed from the swelling udder by the gentle hand of the beauteous milkmaid, whose beauty and innocence might have recommended a worse draught; who, while she stroked the udder, indulged no ambitious thoughts of wandering in palaces, formed no plans for the destruction of her fellow-creatures; milk, which is drawn from the cow, that useful animal, that eats the grass of the field, and supplies us with that which made the greatest part of the food of mankind in the age which the poets have agreed to call golden. It is made with an egg, that miracle of nature, which the theoretical Burnet has compared to creation. An egg contains water within its beautiful smooth surface; and an unformed mass, by the incubation of the parent, becomes a regular animal, furnished with bones and sinews, and covered with feathers. – Let us consider; can there be more wanting to complete the Meditation on a Pudding? If more is wanting, more may be found. It contains salt, which keeps the sea from putrefaction: salt, which is made the image of intellectual excellence, contributes to the formation of a pudding.

Samuel Johnson

This never fails to amuse and delight me.

Arlene Dahl in Desert Legion

Arlene Dahl for Desert Legion
via Not Pulp Covers

I love this. The costuming should have won an award! And how about that sultry look? It is classic not only for what it is portraying but for a picture of 1953 movie making.

Beware if you explore Not Pulp Covers. It has some really great stuff but, keeping in mind how close a lot of it comes to pulp, there are a fair number of scantily clad damsels.

Children of the Book by Ilana Kurshan

Each year, as we read through the Torah, I am aware of different parallels between the experience of reading with my children and the Torah's narratives and themes. Over time, and over a decade of Torah reading cycles, the way I connect with my children through literature has changed. In this memoir, I chart those shifts as they echo the progression of the biblical narrative—from the first picture books that create my infant's narrative—from the first picture books that create my infant's world through language, to the moment my children begin reading on their own and leaving me behind, atop the mountain, as they enter new lands.

Faithful Jews read through the Torah every year. I first encountered these with Rabbi Sacks' series Now, Ilana Kurshan takes us through it, echoed by the children's books she is reading to her family. Not only do her reflections remind us of the journey of faith, but also our own journey as readers from Baby's First Words to Charlotte's Web to Little Women and A Wrinkle in Time.

Don't worry if you don't care about the books I mentioned. They are just a very few of the whirlwind of books that surrounds readers in this tale. I always thought I was the most dedicated reader I knew until I read Kurshan's story of reading while in hard labor, while eating dinner (with her family), while walking the baby in his stroller. In fact, this is the first time I wanted to tell someone to stop reading and take a break.

If you love meditating on faith from a roundabout connection and love reminiscing over favorite books while also seeing how they affect others, then this is the book for you. Other reviewers' comments about a bit of a repetitive nature are accurate. I read this over a few days while on vacation and that aspect did come to the fore. Just do as I plan to when I reread it. Just read a chapter every day or two.

I also would like to reassure the author that, although her children are too old to enjoy the simple books they once read together, the future holds the delights of laughing together over The Cat in the Hat with a beloved grandchild. This is one of the pleasures I have recently received with great joy as he said, "Wow. That book was a lot better than I thought it would be." (He managed to hide his lack of interest when Gran forced him to read it. Not bad for a 5 year old.)

Recommended and will be on my Best of 2025 list.

TV You Might Have Missed 17: Good Cop/Bad Cop

A procedural dramedy centered around Lou and Henry, an odd couple sister and brother detective team in a small Pacific Northwest police force, who must contend with colorful residents, a lack of resources, and their own complicated dynamics.

We like police procedurals, especially if they're not too gritty. Pokerface, Killing It, Brokenwood. You know the sort of show I mean. Good ones are in all too short suppy these days.

So were happy to find promise in the pilot episode and kept going. We found a fun, quirky show that wasn't too over-the-top while providing a murder-of-the week, albeit often also quirky such as the rodeo murder. With each episode the writers increasingly found their stride and we got more attached to the characters. I especially enjoyed the brother - sister dynamic which came on strong in the first episode but quickly became a solid strength of the show.

Season One is 8 episodes and can be found on Prime. We're now in there with the other fans who are hoping there will be a Season Two.

For Babar Lovers

Gas Masks

Gas Masks

Does anyone else notice the resemblance here to the sand people from Star Wars? I wonder if George Lucas had been looking through old photos ...

Cluny Media

I have continually been impressed by Cluny's offerings when looking for books by old authors who none of my friends seem to have heard of — Romano Guardini, Ronald Knox, Henri Daniel-Rops, Jean Danielou, etc. 

As I bought lovely new versions of books I'd been scouring the used bookstores for, I noticed they all were from Cluny Media. I'm so happy that they are reviving my favorites for all to find! Take a look around and see what you find!

The Lord's Prayer by Romano Guardini

At a time when we feel so many things shaken to their foundations, we have every reason to grope our way back to the very core of the Christian realities wherein the undisturbed omnipotence of the Redemption reigns.

Guardini wrote that in 1932. Here we are almost 100 years later when we too feel foundations are being shaken. This book is timeless and good thing.

This is one of Guardini's glorious short books of meditations where he looks carefully, bit by bit, for the riches of Christ in things we think we already understand. Like the Our Father. In the process, he gives us new ways to look at familiar things while turning our gaze inward to draw us closer to God and outward to look at our fellow man.

Pick up this or his books The Art of Praying, Meditations Before Mass, or The Rosary of Our Lady. Whichever book I'm reading I always think is the best of the bunch. But this might really be the best.

Notes on Mark: Rowing Against the Wind

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt

MARK 6:45-52
In all the times I have read this segment with Jesus walking on the water through the storm to the disciples, never have I given much thought to the fact that the disciples are wearing themselves out rowing against the wind. If I did it was only to apply it to my own struggles. However St. Bede also saw a larger message in it that makes a lot of sense to me, especially when considering how often the Church Fathers saw things like Noah's Ark symbolizing the Church.

St. Bede the Venerable comments on this whole episode in this way: "In a mystical sense, the disciples' efforts to row against the wind point to the efforts the Holy Church must make against the waves of the enemy world and the outpourings of evil spirits in order to reach the haven of its heavenly home. It is rightly said that the boat was out on the sea and He alone on the land, because the Church has never been so intensely persecuted by the Gentiles that it seemed as if the Redeemer had abandoned it completely. But the Lord sees his disciples struggling, and to sustain them he looks at them compassionately and sometimes frees them from peril by clearly coming to their rescue.

Navarre Bible: St. Mark

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Sources and Notes Index     

 

Catch of the Year

Catch of the Year, Remo Savisaar

This photo won photographer Remo Savisaar the Grand Prize at the Estonian Nature Photo Contest 2025 – along with two more awards. And no wonder, it is truly phenomenal.

Like Remo, I had no idea what I was looking at until I read his account of getting this photo. Go to the link and scroll down for the translation. I was stunned to see it is a mink catching a female mallard. Remo says he was in the right place at the right time. That is very true. However, it takes a good photographer to recognize the moment and snap the photo. He's truly a wonderful photographer.

Fajitas

 After today's quote, how can we not admire the artistry of this food and setting?

The Old Dutch Masters and a Mexican Restaurant

A little lagniappe from my quote journal. Doesn't this paint a wonderful picture?

The old Dutch masters would have loved to perpetuate the interior of a Mexican restaurant, its patrons showing the cosmopolitan nature of the population of the State. A long, low-roofed room, with bare floor, an uncovered pine table, and hard bench, on which sit three noted politicians taking an evening lunch. ... Each has a steaming platter of chile con carne before him, and a plate of tamales in their hot moist wrappings of shuck. Behind them stands the Mexican host, tall, dark, dignified, and grave, yet watchful. ... Over them flicker the dim rays cast by an oil lamp, deepening the shadows, throwing half-lights into the obscurity of the corners. A tiny hairless Mexican dog sits motionless on the doorstep, while the sign—written in both English and Spanish—swings creakingly above his head. ... Only in the cities of Texas can be found that peculiar fusion of American civilization with Mexican life. ...

Lee C. Harby, "Texan Types and Contrast,"
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, July 1890

via Robb Walsh, Texas Eats

Everyday Saints: Stories of Quiet Courage

Meet Kim, holding divorce papers for her addicted husband while remembering her grandmother’s prayers. Sam, an angry teenager drowning in grief until a teacher sees past his rage. Father Joe, choosing between World Series tickets and a dying stranger’s last rites. Each story stands alone, perfect for brief reading sessions or book club discussions.

Drawing inspiration from Catholic tradition while speaking to universal human experiences, Everyday Saints bridges ancient wisdom and modern struggles. Each story pairs with historical context about its patron saint, making this accessible to readers of any faith or none.

Following up his book Everyday Graces, which I very much enjoyed, comes this slim volume of modern people who make the choice to say yes to love and hope. They inspire with the very ordinariness of the situations. Our chances to extend or receive grace abound in everyday life. This is the key to growing closer to Christ and those he loves (which is everyone, by the way).

I especially enjoyed the direct link to a saint in every story, showing us that holiness is never out of reach. If you never heard of the saint mentioned, good news! The author has brief bios in the back of the book.

I loved these and highly recommend them. They'd make a perfect devotional or stocking stuffer since we're heading toward Christmas. 

Great Gray Owl

Great Gray Owl, Remo Savisaar

 Does it blend? Goodness gracious, you can barely tell where the owl ends and the tree begins.

Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica

Lateran Basilica — Major Papal, Patriarchal and Roman Archbasilica Cathedral 

of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John the Baptist and the Evangelist in Lateran, 

Mother and Head of All Churches in Rome and in the World

This has never been a feast that made sense to me. A feast for a church in Rome. Granted it is a very old church and the Pope's seat as Bishop of Rome. Okay, fine, but nothing for me here in America to get excited over (just to be provincal about it!).

Then I read this.

A church's walls do not make one a Christian, of course. But a church has walls nonetheless. Walls, borders, and lines delimit the sacred from the profane. A house makes a family feel like one, a sacred place where parents and children merge into a household. A church structurally embodies supernatural mysteries. A church is a sacred space where sacred actions make Christians unite as God's family. Walls matter. Churches matter. Sacred spaces matter. Today the Church commemorates a uniquely sacred space, the oldes of the four major basilicas in the city of Rome. The Lateran Basilica is the Cathedral of the Archdiocese of Rome and thus the seat of the Pope as Bishop of Rome.

That really hit me where I live. I love my church building. And the people in it. It is home and they are my family. During the pandemic shut-downs we yearned to be able to gather together with our brothers and sisters in Christ.

This feeling was strengthened when I read today's devotional meditation in the Special Feasts (vol. 7) of In Conversation with God. It talked about the history of the temple, beginning with the Tent of Meeting in the desert where Moses spoke with the Lord as to a friend. It wasn't a temple, of course, but it was the place where man could meet God. I loved that connection going so far back in salvation history. 

There Christ nurtures us from the Tabernacle as he used to care one by one for those who came to him from all cities and villages. We can present him with our deepest desires to love him more and more with each passing day, and entrust to him our preoccupatoins, our difficulties and our weaknesses. We should cultivate a profound reverence forour churches and oratories since the lord awaits us there.

Today the world would be considerably different if Christ had not wanted to remain with us. In front of the tabernacle we can draw strength for our interior struggle and leave all our worries in his hands. On how many occasions have we returned tothe hustle and bustle of ordinary life with renewed hope! We cannot forget that the Sacrifice of infiinite value which the Lord offered on Calvary is renewed each day in our churches so as to draw down upon us form heaven innumerable graces of divine mercy.

Okay, I finally get it!

Choir and apse of the Lateran Basilica

Undaunted Joy: The Revolutionary Act of Cultivating Delight

Joy is hard because it is countercultural. Even when you see the word tossed about in society, it is a weak, diluted joy. Joy is transcendent. It is from God. It is Him, peeking from behind the curtain or veil to reach out to us.

I was intrigued when I read an interview with the author on Miller's Book Review. I liked her claim that joy is countercultural. I liked her denial of having "toxic positivity." I liked her linking joy to the fruit of knowing God. So I did what I rarely do. I ordered it without waiting for reward points to show up on Amazon.

It turns out that was the right thing to do because by the time the book arrived, I was going through some things that made me really need looking for joy as an experience of God. I already asked God every morning what sort of an adventure he'd be dishing up for me, something planned especially for me, whether good or bad.

These essays about joy fit right into that part of my prayer life. It hooked me because they didn't just include sunsets (though, of course, sunsets are in there). There's also the joy of a nap, of laundry, of Costco (yep, Costco), of a haircut. Most of all, they all connected to God I gulped them down greedily and then got to the last one about the oft-derided book Pollyanna. I got that and read it too. And found joy in it also.

Undaunted Joy is going into my daily rotation of inspirational books. In fact, I'm going to begin it again now.

Slowly, I learned to see joy not as an indulgence but as a necessity. As a way of life. This didn't happen all at once, but through a slow process over time—one that continues even today.

Playful Starlings

Playful Starlings, Remo Savisaar

All these colors are just gorgeous, especially as the starlings echo the lines and patterns of the berries and twigs.

Sinking as a hedonist into novels

My mother read secondarily for information; she sank as a hedonist into novels. She read Dickens in the spirit in which she would have eloped with him.

Eudora Welty

Yes. Also Tolkien. And Dante. And Agatha Christie.

Clearly I've got a problem.

In the Church

In the Church by Nikolay Bogdanov-Belsky, c. late 1800s
Via J.R.'s Art Place

These colors are so luminous. I love them.

We're meant to enjoy Our Lord and, in Him, our friends, our food, our sleep, our jokes, and the birds' song and the frosty sunrise

It is one of the evils of rapid diffusion of news that the sorrows of all the world come to us every morning. I think each village was meant to feel pity for its own sick and poor whom it can help and I doubt if it is the duty of any private person to fix his mind on ills wh. he cannot help. (This may even become an escape from the works of charity we really can do to those we know).

A great many people (not you) do now seem to think that the mere state of being worried is in itself meritorious. I don't think it is. We must, if it so happens, give our lives for others: but even while we're doing it, I think we're meant to enjoy Our Lord and, in Him, our friends, our food, our sleep, our jokes, and the birds' song and the frosty sunrise.

C.S. Lewis; letter to Dom Bede Griffiths, OSB; Dec. 20, 1946

The immediacy of global bad news, the idea that being worried about something is action enough, the lack of charity shown locally — don't these sound all too familiar in our Facebook, X, social media world? 

Living locally is trendy for food. I like the idea of applying it as Lewis discusses above. We have plenty of chances to act and help locally. And while doing it, we mustn't forget the Lord is with us, mixing in small moments of joy.

Vase of Chrysanthemums

Armaud Guillaumin, Vase of Chrysanthemums

We don't have fall leaves yet, but Chrysanthemums are always available for gorgeous fall colors.

Using Peter's letters as a guide, Julie and Scott determine whether fiery trials count as cardio.

 We discover that Peter's advice is timeless (no surprises there) when we grab our Bibles and dig into 1 & 2 Peter. Join us for episode 366. 

A Meat Stall with the Holy Family Giving Alms

A Meat Stall with the Holy Family Giving Alms, Pieter Aertsen

You've got to click on the picture so you can see it larger, but they are there and giving alms ... waaaaay in the background.

Death doesn't have an opposite.

Death doesn't have an opposite. Death is a transition. It is no more the opposite of life than a bridge is the opposite of the land it connects. ... If we could get a glimpse of the eternal nature of our lives, we would view death exactly as we view birth: a necessary tunnel through which we must pass on our journey.

Mother Angelica's Answers, Not Promises

This seems important at this time of year, when light is fading and we've just passed All Saints and All Souls Days.

Say a prayer, not an editorial

Crater didn't know why the captain wanted him to say a prayer, but he gave it some thought and said, "Dear Lord, I didn't know Tilly, but I hope You'll take her into heaven. She messed up here at the last but that doesn't matter now, not to her and maybe not to You either."

"I said say a prayer, not write an editorial," Teller growled.

The gillie jumped in. For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, blessed be the Lord thy God who loves thee still. Amen and good-bye.

Teller stared at the gillie, then said, "Well, at least that thing's got some sense."

Homer Hickam, Crater

Perfect!

Sunset

Felix Vallotton, Coucher de Soleil, 1918

This isn't something that I would normally like, but it just grabs me anyway.

Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead)

The best known All Souls’ Day observances in the United States come from Mexican immigrants. Mexico has a vibrant celebration, cleaning graves and building altars on them, bringing favorite foods or trinkets for the deceased, sugar skulls, and marigolds, toys for children, alcohol for adults. Families will spend time praying and reminiscing.

These are often carried out from Halloween through All Souls' Day.

Ray Bradbury had a real love for the purpose of Day of the Dead in Mexico. He wrote about it most notably in his children’s book The Halloween Tree.

A family sits beside a loved one's decorated grave at the cemetery in Xoxocotlán, Mexico.
A tequila bottle, photograph, flowers, and candles are on the grave. (via iStock)

For now they knew why the town was empty.

Because the graveyard was full.

By every grave was a woman kneeling to place gardenias or azaleas or marigolds in a frame upon the stone.

By every grave knelt a daughter who was lighting a new candle or lighting a candle that had just blown out.

By every grave was a quiet boy with bright brown eyes, and in one hand a small papier-mâché funeral parade glued to a shingle and in the other a papier-mâché skeleton head which rattled with rice or nuts inside. ...

“Mexican Halloweens are better than ours!”

For on every grave were plates of cookies shaped like funeral priests or skeletons or ghosts, waiting to be nibbled by—living people? or by ghosts that might come along toward dawn, hungry and forlorn? No one knew. No one said. ...

And each boy beside the graveyard, next to his sister and mother, put down the miniature funeral on the grave. And they could see the tiny candy person inside the tiny wooden coffin placed before a tiny altat with tiny candles. ... And on the altar was a photograph of the person in the coffin, a real person once; remembered now.

“Better, and still better,” whispered Ralph. ...

“Oh, strange funny strange,” whispered Tom

“What?” said Ralph at his elbow.

“Up in Illinois, we’ve forgotten what it’s all about. I mean the dead, up in our town, tonight, heck, they’re forgotten. Nobody remembers. Nobody cares. Nobody goes to sit and talk to them. Boy, that’s lonely. That’s really sad. But here—why, shucks. It’s both happy and sad. It’s all firecrackers and skeleton toys down here in the plaza and up in that graveyard now are all the Mexican dead folks with the families visiting and flowers and candles and singing and candy. I mean it’s almost like Thanksgiving, huh? And everyone set down to dinner, but only half the people able to eat, but that’s no mind, they’re there. It’s like holding hands at a séance with your friends, but some of the friends gone. ...”

Except the Catholic Church all over the world, of course. We remember and we pray.

For more on the Day of the Dead check Wikipedia.

The offering, Saturnino Herran

The Offering (1913) exemplifies Mexican modernism with its allegorical allusion to life’s journey. It displays a punt boat in a canal filled with zempasúchitl flowers (a marigold that is traditionally associated with death). Featured are a baby, a youthful man, and an elderly man offering the flowers for the dead. This is a reference to ofrenda, a tradition deeply connected to Mexico's Dia de los Muertos, a celebration of ancestry that is said to connect the living to the dead. Each character is represents a different stage of life, but they are all following the same end destination and respecting their course.

Wikipedia

Commemoration of All Souls

The Day of the Dead, William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905)

Today we dedicate our prayers in suffrage for the souls in purgatory, still being purified of the remains of sin. Our ties with deceased relatives and friends do not end with their death. Priests can celebrate Mass three times on this day for their benefit, and all the faithful can gain special indulgences to expedite their entrance into heaven.

In Conversation with God, Vol. 7

Here is the translation of the beautiful, yet mournful music for the day which I heard at Pray As You Go a few years ago. It touched my heart and made me contemplate more deeply the mysteries of faith, life, and death.

Free the souls of all the faithful departed.
Free them from the pains of hell.
Free them from the deep pit.
Free them from the lion's mouth.
Make them pass from death to life.

==========

As I listen, I may want to pray too for the people I know who have died or perhaps to contemplate in these moments the ultimate hope that God offers me of freedom from all things that threaten and trouble me: the promise God makes me of eternal life.

This dovetailed with the reading from today that touched my heart most, surprisingly, to me, from Wisdom. Reading it line by line, I felt that ache of missing those I love, but the surety that God offers for the faithful departed.

Wis 3:1-9

The souls of the just are in the hand of God,
and no torment shall touch them.

They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;
and their passing away was thought an affliction
and their going forth from us, utter destruction.

But they are in peace.
For if before men, indeed, they be punished,
yet is their hope full of immortality;
chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,
because God tried them
and found them worthy of himself.

As gold in the furnace, he proved them,
and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
In the time of their visitation they shall shine,
and shall dart about as sparks through stubble;
they shall judge nations and rule over peoples,
and the LORD shall be their King forever.

Those who trust in him shall understand truth,
and the faithful shall abide with him in love:
because grace and mercy are with his holy ones,
and his care is with his elect.

I think today of my beloved dead. I love them and I miss them. Certainly, I pray for them to be happy and joyful in Heaven. And I long to see God's face ... which is a surprising longing for me to be experiencing. But one which I accept gratefully.

• Our two unborn children
• Mom 
• Dad
• GG
• Raymond
• Thelma
• Grandmama
• Deedah
• Tom's father
• Tom's mother
• Mrs. Ford
• Robin Ford
• Jeanmarie
• Sydney
• Matthew
  
• Ivar
  
• Dorsey
• Dorsey's mother
• Carole
• Heath
• Phyllis
• Alberta
• Aunt Laura
• Uncle Adolph
• Mark (Tom's cousin)
• Harry Steven
• Johnny Falcon
• Maggie Garcia
• Sarah Arnold
• Gregg Margarite
• Phyllis
• Jack
• Diane
• June
• Reisha
• Marshall
• Kathy
• Diana
• Diane and David Dozier
  
• Aunt Joan 
• Aunt CB
• Jenny Colvin
  
• Ted Walch
• John Michael Davis
• Aunt Beverly
• Annabelle Catterall
  
• Don Edinburgh

Rest Eternal Grant Them, Lord!
Take we up the touching burden of November plaints,
Pleading for the Holy Souls, God’s yet uncrowned Saints.
Still unpaid to our departed is the debt we owe;
Still unransomed, some are pining, sore oppressed with woe.
Friends we loved and vowed to cherish call us in their need:
Prove we now our love was real, true in word and deed.
“Rest eternal grant them, Lord!” full often let us pray—
“Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine!”

Here is a litany for the souls in Purgatory.

You can read more about All Souls' Day here. For those with any questions about Purgatory I posted this extremely basic explanation a while back.

Catholic Culture explains indulgences and practices that Catholics can do during the month of November for the Poor Souls in Purgatory.

All Saints' Day: We Should All Desire to Be Saints

Today is All Saints' Day when the Church commemorates all saints, whether known or unknown. It is a Holy Day of Obligation, except this year when it falls on a Saturday. Go figure!

I repost this for today's feast of All Saints' Day because I simply love this excerpt from The Seven Storey Mountain ... and the meditation still holds true for me.

“What you should say”– Lax told me — ”what you should say is that you want to be a saint.”

A saint! The thought struck me as a little weird. I said: “How do you expect me to become a saint?”

“By wanting to,” said Lax, simply.

“I can’t be a saint,” I said, “I can’t be a saint.” And my mind darkened with a confusion of realities and unrealities: the knowledge of my own sins, and the false humility which makes men say that they cannot do the things that they must do, cannot reach the level that they must reach: the cowardice that says: “I am satisfied to save my soul, to keep out of mortal sin,” but which means, by those words: “I do not want to give up my sins and my attachments.”

Lax said: “All that is necessary to be a saint is to want to be one. Don’t you believe that God will make you what He created you to be, if you will consent to let him do it? All you have to do is desire it.”

Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain

This kept returning to my mind after I read it.

Yes, the goal is to get to Heaven, but didn't I expect a stopover in Purgatory? Didn't everyone I talked to laugh somewhat about how long they'd be stuck there too?

It struck me that what this attitude reflects is not aiming for Heaven, but settling for Purgatory. We should be happy that Purgatory is there like the net under tightrope walkers, to catch us if we fall short. But we should be aiming for, and expecting, to achieve our greatest potential ... that for which God created each and every one of us. That with His grace and our cooperation we can each be a saint.

St. Teresa of Avila crossed my mind. St. John of the Cross. You know where I'm going with this right? Saint Teresa of Calcutta (a.k.a. Mother Teresa). The dark night of the soul. I know that these saints thought it worthwhile but I'm not into signing up for that duty.

I then thought of my grandfather, Raymond. A wonderful man, always happy and cheerful, willing to work hard to help anyone who needed it ... an anonymous saint to the Church but one to all who knew him. No dark night of the soul there. Yet, I'm sure he skipped right over Purgatory. Would I be willing to follow his example? Of course.

I thought of my patron, Saint Martha (you know, of the "Mary has chosen the better part" story). The last time we see her serving is notably different from the first. Mary is washing Jesus' feet and Martha is mentioned as serving in the background. To me that says she has learned the lesson Jesus gave her about "the better part." Would I be willing to follow her example? Natch.

My glance fell on a book I recently received about Solanus Casey, a favorite of mine because he was a humble porter whose holiness shown through to the people of Detroit. Similar to St. John Vianney, another favorite of mine (yes, I have lots of favorites), in that both found studies difficult and consequently were not thought much of by their orders.

Of course, it was borne in upon me yet again that we have so many examples of all the different sorts of saints God makes to suit each time and place. Why I would feel that it necessarily requires a "dark night of the soul" I don't know ... how silly of me!

The culmination of all this thinking took place last night while I was waiting for the Vigil Mass to begin. I was saying the rosary (more about that in another post) and kept coming back to the subject of saints. I got a growing feeling of excitement and anticipation at the unknown future when we completely give ourselves over to God ... when we desire to become a saint. Nothing new here intellectually that's sure, but for me it is that sense of possibilities, of waiting for a surprise ... and that is always what we discover when God is involved.

I'm not settling any more. I'm aiming higher.

Isn't this gorgeous? There's more where that came from ... Recta Ratio.

Happy Halloween!

Kirsten's Jack O'Lanterns

I can't believe I know people who actually carved these. Talk about a labor of love! And of creativity!

And some poetry to go along with it!

"Hallowe'en in a Suburb" by H.P. Lovecraft (1890-1937)

The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,
And the trees have a silver glare;
Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,
And the harpies of upper air,
That flutter and laugh and stare.

For the village dead to the moon outspread
Never shone in the sunset's gleam,
But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep
Where the rivers of madness stream
Down the gulfs to a pit of dream.

A chill wind weaves through the rows of sheaves
In the meadows that shimmer pale,
And comes to twine where the headstones shine
And the ghouls of the churchyard wail
For harvests that fly and fail.

Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change
That tore from the past its own
Can quicken this hour, when a spectral power
Spreads sleep o'er the cosmic throne,
And looses the vast unknown.

So here again stretch the vale and plain
That moons long-forgotten saw,
And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,
Sprung out of the tomb's black maw
To shake all the world with awe.

And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,
The ugliness and the pest
Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,
Shall some day be with the rest,
And brood with the shades unblest.

Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,
And the leprous spires ascend;
For new and old alike in the fold
Of horror and death are penned,
For the hounds of Time to rend.

C.S. Lewis's Ghost Story

We've had Padre Pio and a ghost, St. John Bosco and a ghost. For Halloween itself, let's get one where the famous person is himself the ghost!

At the time, J. B. Phillips was in a deep depression that threatened his life. He refused to leave his chambers, refused proper food or exercise, and seriously questioned the love and election of God [in his life]. It was in this state of detachment and depression, leading to his early death…that suddenly, a ruddy and glowing C. S. Lewis stood before him, entering his room through closed doors -- a “healthy Lewis, hearty and glowing” as Phillips was later to record.

In this vision, Lewis only spoke only one sentence to Phillips: ‘J.B., it’s not as hard as you think.’ One solitary sentence, the meaning of which is debated! But what is not debated is the effect of that sentence. It snapped Phillips out of his depression, and set him again following God. After Lewis spoke that cryptic sentence, he disappeared.

Phillips came out of his chambers only to find that Lewis had died moments before the appearance, miles away. He pondered this in his heart, with wonder, and never returned to his depression. Now, was this a case of God giving a detour of a soul on the way to heaven to a special friend, to save him? Who knows? But again, it is recorded evidence of the highest order, by persons of the highest order: Lewis and Phillips. It is a ghost story, a benevolent one, to all appearances – actually, not only benevolent, but redemptive [which I would take as an element of authenticity].

This story is found in a lot of places but I like this retelling which is from Thoughts of Loy.

St. John Bosco's Ghost Story

This is a little reminder that All Saints' Day is on Tuesday (formerly known as All Hallow's Day), without which we would not have Hallowe'en (formerly known as All Hallow's Eve).

Nothing like a saint telling a ghost story to both celebrate spookiness and also ... saintliness!

While a young man, St. John Bosco (1815-1888) and his friend, Comollo, agreed that whoever died first would return and give a sign about the state of their soul. Comollo died on April 2, 1839. The evening following the funeral, Bosco sat sleepless on his bed in the room he shared with twenty seminarians.

“Midnight struck and I then heard a dull rolling sound from the end of the passage, which grew ever more clear, loud and deep, the nearer it came. It sounded as though a heavy dray were being drawn by many horses, like a railway train, almost like the discharge of a cannon…While the noise came nearer the dormitory, the walls, ceiling and floor of the passage re-echoed and trembled behind it…

Then the door opened violently of its own accord without anybody seeing anything except a dim light of changing colour that seemed to control the sound…Then a voice was clearly heard, ‘Bosco, Bosco, Bosco, I am saved.’… The seminarists leapt out of bed and fled without knowing where to go. … for a long time there was no other subject of conversation in the seminary.”

Isle of the Dead

Arnold Böcklin, Isle of the Dead: "Basel" version, 1880

This was so popular that the artist did several different versions of it. Read all about it at Wikipedia. Here's a bit.

All versions of Isle of the Dead depict a desolate and rocky islet seen across an expanse of dark water. A small rowboat is just arriving at a water gate and seawall on shore. An oarsman maneuvers the boat from the stern. In the bow, facing the gate, is a standing figure clad entirely in white. Just behind the figure is a white, festooned object commonly interpreted as a coffin. The tiny islet is dominated by a dense grove of tall, dark cypress trees—associated by long-standing tradition with cemeteries and mourning—which is closely hemmed in by precipitous cliffs. Furthering the funerary theme are what appear to be sepulchral portals and windows penetrating the rock faces.

Frankenstein (2025)

Oscar-winning director Guillermo del Toro adapts Mary Shelley's classic tale of Victor Frankenstein, a brilliant but egotistical scientist who brings a creature to life in a monstrous experiment that ultimately leads to the undoing of both the creator and his tragic creation.

I am really fond of the Frankenstein story so I worried about what Del Toro might change that would affect the ultimate message. I needn't have. It turns out that he loves the story as much as I do and somehow managed to stay true to the book while whirling around with his own different details a lot of the time. 

Best of all, the point of the story was articulated enough to be sure that we really got it. Really good.

100 Movies Every Catholic Should See has a really good review with it's eye on Catholicism (natch).

Padre Pio's Ghost Story

Speaking of ghosts, since Halloween is close upon us ...

Padre Pio told the story of being in the choir alone one evening to pray. He heard rustling and looked up to see a young monk dusting and straightening up the altar. When he asked who the monk was, he was told: “I am a brother of yours that made the novitiate here. I was ordered to clean the altar during the year of the noviciate. Unfortunately many times I didn’t reverence Jesus while passing in front of the altar, thus causing the Holy Sacrament that was preserved in the tabernacle to be disrespected. For this serious carelessness, I am still in Purgatory. Now, God, with his endless goodness, sent me here so that you may quicken the time I will enjoy Paradise. Take care of me.”

Source

Portrait of Padre Pio by Solomenco Bogdan
via Wikipedia

A Lane

John Atkinson Grimshaw, A Lane

John Atkinson Grimshaw's work all seems wonderfully gloomy, which is perfect for this time of year. Who is that figure in the moonlight, dwarfed by the trees and sky? An innocent traveler out late? Someone sinister? Someone in need? We are left to wonder.

St. James Church Cemetery

St. James Church Or Goose Creek Church And Cemetery, 1872 Engraving

Deliciously spooky!

O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

... we can give the supernatural world of evil too much power. I guess it's a case of either the devil isn't real or the devil is on every street corner hiding inside a pumpkin. Surely there is a middle ground where we acknowledge supernatural evil but we recognize its limited power in the face of the power of Christ.

Ironically I wonder if this might have been what some of the Christians were doing when they celebrated All Hallow's Eve and All Saints Day in the past. Those festivities were opportunities to laugh in the face of evil spirits, to dress up as them and sort of mock them, saying, "Hey check this out. These big, scary demons, they're just empty masks. When you compare them with the power of the risen Jesus Christ, they're not up to much."

I wonder if Halloween offers us a chance to affirm our eternal life while looking into the face of death which has actually lost its sting ... For Christians the scariness of death is not scary. Not really. Because we've got eternal life.

Peter Laws

Halloween

Halloween, Grandma Moses

I love seeing the whole neighborhood in action!

Lovecraftian School Board Member Wants Madness Added To Curriculum

"Our schools are orderly, sanitary places where students dwell in blissful ignorance of the chaos that awaits," West said. "Should our facilities be repaired? No, they must be razed to the ground and rebuilt in the image of the Cyclopean dwellings of the Elder Gods, the very geometry of which will drive them to be possessed by visions of the realms beyond." ...

"Charles sure likes to bang on that madness drum," fellow school board member Danielle Kolker said. "I'm not totally sold on his plan to let gibbering, half-formed creatures dripping with ichor feed off the flesh and fear of our students. But he is always on time to help set up for our spaghetti suppers, and his bake sale goods are among the most popular."

"I must admit, he's very convincing," Kolker added.

This excerpt is from one of my favorite of The Onion's pieces. I enjoy rereading it every year. Do go read it all.

Inhuman, Gelatinous, and Disembodied

Shall I say that the voice was deep, hollow, gelatinous, remote, unearthly, inhuman, disembodied?

H.P. Lovecraft, the Statement of Randolph Carter

Wow. And somehow I feel I know just how it sounded.

Geese Flying Across the Moon

Geese Flying Across the Moon taken by Remo Savisaar

Litany of Married Saints

This litany comes from 30 Days with Married Saints. It was powerful when we were praying it with the retreat team for a marriage enrichment retreat. I also love it as a reminder of all the different kinds of saints that have given us such wonderful looks at how to live for Jesus in regular life. As we come up to All Saints' Day, let's as for their prayers that we may become saints too.

LITANY OF MARRIED SAINTS

Holy Mary, wife of Joseph and mother of Jesus,
pray for us.

Saint Joseph, husband of Mary and foster-father of Jesus,
pray for us.

Saints Elizabeth and Zecharia, models of fidelity,
pray for us.

Saints Anna and Joachim, grandparents of Jesus,
pray for us.

Blessed Luigi and Maria Beltrame Quattrocchi, examples of Christian marriage,
pray for us.

Saints Isidore and Maria, protectors of farming families,
pray for us.

Saint Gianna Beretta Molla, patroness of mothers and the unborn,
pray for us.

Saint Margaret of Scotland, patroness of large families,
pray for us.

Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, model of hope,
pray for us.

Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, patroness of those who suffer the loss of a child,
pray for us.

Saint Monica, who rejoiced in answered prayers,
pray for us.

Saints Louis and Zelie Martin, exemplars of holy parents,
pray for us.

All you holy married saints,
pray for us.

All you defenders of the family,
pray for us.

Amen.

Luigi and Maria Beltrame Quattrocchi

The Thoughtful Stag

The Thoughtful Stag, Remo Savisaar

Something lovely and seasonal, but not scarey!

Remembering John Paul II on his feast day

I wrote this when John Paul II was beatified. Rereading it, I was taken back to my feelings about this wonderful saint. I am truly privileged to have become Catholic during his pontificate. Not all the links work because it was so long ago, but I left them in so the sources are maintained.

----------------------

I really couldn't think of what to write for the occasion of seeing public acknowledgment of something I already know, that Pope John Paul II is a saint. Of course, I'm not the only one. Public acclamation of him as "the Great" began at his funeral. I was interested to read in one of Mike Aquilina's books recently that the people proclaim someone as "the Great." The Church later makes it official.

I couldn't think of anything better than this tribute which originated with my thoughts upon John Paul's death and which I have updated very slightly below. Nothing I can say can cover the scope of such a personality and many others in the news and online will doubtless do it better. But this is how I feel and that's often why you come by. So let's look back at the beloved Papa we all were so privileged to know.



At 9:37 p.m. on the evening of April 2, 2005, (a Saturday) Pope John Paul II died.

I will never forget it, not only because I loved him more than I realized until heard that news, but also for the company I was keeping at that moment. I was with fellow bloggers Mama T, Smock Mama and Steven Riddle in the Rockfish Grill dawdling over a long, enjoyable lunch. As I wrote the next day...

We were in a restaurant but it was as if we were in a soundproof bubble. Nothing else existed except the four of us and our shared, mingled sadness and joy. Tears flowed and we clasped hands and shared prayer together for our pope and our church. What an odd "coincidence" for us to be together to share that moment ... as if I believed in coincidence. In fact, my husband has said three times that he still can't believe how odd it was that I was with those St. Blog's parishioners at that time (and he doesn't repeat himself like that).

Today we are living in an age of instant communications. But do you realize what a unique form of communication prayer is? Prayer enables us to meet God at the most profound level of our being. It connects us directly to God, the living God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, in a constant exchange of love.

Pope John Paul II
Celebration with Youth, St. Louis, 1999

The above photo and quote is one of a series that I did during those days of mourning afterward. I like looking through them. They remind me of what a treasure he was for the Church ... and for me.

• Until We Meet Again
• It Is Jesus That You Seek
• How Does the Pope Pray?
• The Heart of the Young
• What Made John Paul II So Real
• The Right to Life
• The Family
• Contemplating Christ With Mary

This was written much later but is my review of Peggy Noonan's book, John Paul the Great: Remembering a Spiritual Father. I highly recommend it and there are several good links in that review as well.

Julie will sail the ships, Scott will fly the plane. Watch out Godzilla, here we come!

Have you always wondered how Godzilla Minus One connects with John Henry Newman? Here's your chance! Episode 365 of A Good Story is Hard to Find! 

El Gato Negro

Sometimes foreign movie posters capture the essence of the thing so much better than the American ones. That cat looks like a panther, ready to strike!

Lagniappe: The Ghost House

This melancholy and evocative poem by Robert Frost is perfect for October.

I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.

O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.

It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.

Herbsttraum (Autumn)

 

Daniel Stark, Herbsttraum (Autumn), some rights reserved

The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury

This first ran in 2018 but let's not forget what a great book it is!

A group of eight boys go trick-or-treating on Halloween, only to discover that a ninth friend, Pipkin, has been whisked away on a journey that could determine whether he lives or dies. Through the help of a mysterious character named Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud, they pursue their friend across time and space through Ancient Egyptian, Ancient Greek, and Ancient Roman cultures, Celtic Druidism, the Notre Dame Cathedral in Medieval Paris, and The Day of the Dead in Mexico. — Wikipedia summary

It's funny that in discussing the Pixar movie Coco with friends after having watched it recently, many of them had never heard of Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Even those who are proud of their Hispanic heritage came across it first in this movie. Of course, this is because first and foremost they are Americans and Day of the Dead is not really celebrated in most of this country. And also I think that the holiday is mostly celebrated in Mexico so it would depend on country of origin.

Anyway, what made it oddest to me was that even with my purely Anglo and Kansas background, I felt as if I'd known about this holiday forever. Finally I figured out it was because of my love Ray Bradbury's writing and his love of Day of the Dead.

He wrote about it in his love letter to Halloween, The Halloween Tree. This is a great boys' adventure, a spooky tale, a story of sacrificial friendship, and a history lesson about the origins of Halloween. Bradbury leans a bit hard on Christians in this history, but to be fair I think that is how it was being told when he wrote it in 1972. It is definitely written for children but I enjoy rereading it every year so you can read along (or ahead) to enjoy it with the kids.

My own little tribute to the Day of the Dead is here from last year.

Scott Danielson loves this book even more than I do and we discussed it for Halloween 2016 at A Good Story is Hard to Find podcast.

Here's a bit from The Halloween Tree.

For now they knew why the town was empty.

Because the graveyard was full.

By every grave was a woman kneeling to place gardenias or azaleas or marigolds in a frame upon the stone.

By every grave knelt a daughter who was lighting a new candle or lighting a candle that had just blown out.

By every grave was a quiet boy with bright brown eyes, and in one hand a small papier-mâché funeral parade glued to a shingle and in the other a papier-mâché skeleton head which rattled with rice or nuts inside. ...

“Mexican Halloweens are better than ours!”

For on every grave were plates of cookies shaped like funeral priests or skeletons or ghosts, waiting to be nibbled by—living people? or by ghosts that might come along toward dawn, hungry and forlorn? No one knew. No one said. ...

And each boy beside the graveyard, next to his sister and mother, put down the miniature funeral on the grave. And they could see the tiny candy person inside the tiny wooden coffin placed before a tiny altar with tiny candles. ... And on the altar was a photograph of the person in the coffin, a real person once; remembered now.

“Better, and still better,” whispered Ralph. ...

“Oh, strange funny strange,” whispered Tom

“What?” said Ralph at his elbow.

“Up in Illinois, we’ve forgotten what it’s all about. I mean the dead, up in our town, tonight, heck, they’re forgotten. Nobody remembers. Nobody cares. Nobody goes to sit and talk to them. Boy, that’s lonely. That’s really sad. But here—why, shucks. It’s both happy and sad. It’s all firecrackers and skeleton toys down here in the plaza and up in that graveyard now are all the Mexican dead folks with the families visiting and flowers and candles and singing and candy. I mean it’s almost like Thanksgiving, huh? And everyone set down to dinner, but only half the people able to eat, but that’s no mind, they’re there. It’s like holding hands at a séance with your friends, but some of the friends gone. ...”

Halloween's Coming: Horror, Monster, and Monstrance

We're going to count down to Halloween with some of my favorite spooky quotes and images. But let's put it in perspective first ... Catholic perspective that is!

By Toby Ord

Most people don't think of horror as a genre of literature or film that is particularly agreeable to Christian sensibilities. However, two of the great practitioners of horror on both page and screen consider their work to be an extension of the gospel. Stephen King, author of many a scary tale, says that he considers himself the spiritual heir of the great Puritan preacher, Jonathan Edwards (who preached the famous sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"). William Peter Blatty, who penned "The Exorcist" wrote the story precisely in order to show both the depths of demonic evil and to remind the world of the reality of Christ-like self-sacrifice.

By Broederhugo

It is the depth of the darkness of the Enemy that paradoxically highlights the brilliance of the light of Heaven. Indeed, the word "monster" comes from the same root as the word "demonstrate" and "monstrance." A "monster" demonstrates what we can and will be apart from Christ. A monstrance shows forth the saving eucharistic, and self-sacrificial power of him who underwent the worst horror the world has ever known to save us from the terrors of Hell. He has prepared a eucharistic table for us in the presence of Satan himself--and deprived him of his prey.

This Halloween, be not afraid.

Catholic Exchange, Word of Encouragement, Oct. 31, 2005