Perhaps you say, Why are the wicked joyous? why do they live in luxury? why do they not toil with me? It is because they who have not put down their names to strive for the crown are not bound to undergo the labors of the contest. They who have not gone down into the race-course do not anoint themselves with oil nor get covered with dust. For those whom glory awaits trouble is at hand. The perfumed spectators are wont to look on, not to join in the struggle, nor to endure the sun, the heat, the dust, and the showers. ...As Tom points out, this turns the whole "gospel of prosperity" on its head. We are working for the bigger reward than ease in this life. Its nice if it comes along, but that's not the point at all. It is about our immortal souls.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Why are the wicked joyous?
St. Ambrose had a very good answer to this question.
Friday, January 11, 2008
The Arkangel Complete Shakespeare
I don't remember where I saw the Arkangel recordings of Shakespeare mentioned. It sent me to our library, which luckily has quite a few of the plays. I listened only to the beginning of Gentlemen from Verona, before deciding that I needed to begin with something a bit more familiar to get my "ear" accustomed again to the cadence of Shakespearean speech. However, even that brief encounter made me eager for more. Both the acting and the sound production were wonderful. It was sheer genius to have the opening scene over cocktails in a piano bar (or so it sounded). It clearly took me into the scene in an unexpected way.
I am now waiting impatiently for the library to get Macbeth to me. That story is much more familiar and I will have a better chance at absorbing it all.
Imagine my delight then when Thomas McDonald, the guest blogger who gave us yesterday's review of Bioshock, presented me with this thoughtful and complete review of the entire Arkangel series for Catholic Media Review.
Sit back, read, and enjoy. Then take thee to a library (or store) and begin enjoying Shakespeare in a whole new way! Thank you Thomas!
I am now waiting impatiently for the library to get Macbeth to me. That story is much more familiar and I will have a better chance at absorbing it all.
Imagine my delight then when Thomas McDonald, the guest blogger who gave us yesterday's review of Bioshock, presented me with this thoughtful and complete review of the entire Arkangel series for Catholic Media Review.
Sit back, read, and enjoy. Then take thee to a library (or store) and begin enjoying Shakespeare in a whole new way! Thank you Thomas!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Fr. James Martin's Response to Joyce Behar's Anti-Catholicism
Foolish as it would be to look for deep theological insight from "The View," Joy Behar's recent statements on Catholic saints (a) not existing any longer and (b) needing medication, was about as close as you could come to a nice Youtubable, public display of anti-Catholicism, for any who doubt it still exists.Martin, editor of America magazine, has a good article responding to Joy Behar of The View who recently went on a public anti-Catholic screed. Do go read his responses to each of Behar's embarrassing examples of ignorance of the faith she is attacking. I also like his points about why he's not worried and the implied charity of Mother Teresa probably already praying for Behar.
In addition to pointing out the problems with such impromptu examples of anti-Catholicism being the last acceptable prejudice, we should also remember to extend charity to such offenders by forgiving them and praying for them. Mother Teresa, pray with us and for us, as we pray for Joy Behar.
Bioshock Review
Rapture’s collapse is an object lesson in what happens when bioethics break down. The city is undone by genetic tampering, as people attempt to turn themselves into Gods with gene modifying drugs. God’s work is imperfect, people are told, so science must step in to improve it. At the top of the crumbling pyramid is Ryan, with his Godlike delusions and warped philosophy. He sees Rapture as a New Eden. Indeed, two of the gameplay elements are “ADAM”, a mutagen which allows people to modify their genetic structure to enhance certain powers, and “EVE,” the fuel for these genetic mutations. In order to get through Rapture, your character needs to become one of these mutants without sinking too far into madness. It’s a dangerous balance, and in the end only love is able to bring you back, if you choose the path of love.Guest blogger Thomas L. McDonald, Editor-at-Large of Games Magazine, delivers a fascinating review of Bioshock over at Catholic Media Review. It takes into account societal standards and concerns as reflected in this game ... really good stuff, y'all!
If you have a child wanting to play this game (or already playing it) and want to know more about the content, this review is invaluable. Or if you just are in interested in playing it yourself check it out. It sounds darned good!
Long Handled Spoons
This puts me in mind of Dante. I am very slowly wending my way through Purgatorio now. The lessons learned by those in hell and purgatory are reflected in this simple moral fable. Thanks to Cyndie for sending it to me!
A holy man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said, 'Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.'
The Lord led the holy man to two doors.
He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man's mouth water.
The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful. But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.
The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.
The Lord said, 'You have seen Hell.'
They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man's mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The holy man said, 'I don't understand.'
It is simple,' said the Lord. 'It requires but one skill. You see they have learned to feed each other, while the greedy think only of themselves.'
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
By Sun and By Candlelight
Life before modern technology was full of hard stops: the work day ended at sunset -- if you didn't finish laundry during the day there was no going back outside to the washboard at 9:00 at night; the work day began at dawn -- if you got breakfast on the table an hour late that was precious time cut out of you and your family's very finite workday; even finances had hard stops -- when you spent your last dollar there were no tempting "0% interest for six months!" credit card offers waiting in your mailbox. And with a life full of hard stops, even the most disorganized, scattered people must have been forced to have some kind of routine, and to limit their to-do lists. Even people as inept at time management as I am must have been gently reminded to get to a stopping point and wind down their projects each day as the sunlight began its slow retreat from the sky.Jen at Et Tu has a thoughful, insightful post about borrowing hours and merely making ourselves more frantic. Well worth a read whether you have resolved to change your time management for the New Year or not.
"Among the nations, I will praise you ..."
(from Psalm 57)
This is a theme that has resonated with me lately. Of course, since we just had the Feast of the Epiphany (the three wise men) the liturgical emphasis naturally is about Jesus being here for all people, everywhere.
However, I felt this even more strongly having recently read books about the faithful in China and Africa. Granted, both are vastly different books but both also bring forth clearly the struggle and suffering these people go through both in their lives and to practice their faith. Compounding that emphasis is the fact that I recently received and have almost finished Secret Believers: What Happens When Muslims Believe in Christ which added the Middle East in a real and haunting way to my vision of the struggling church.
While pondering this in prayer yesterday, I read the line that is the headline for this post. It stuck with me. Then I read that bit of Mark above. I have always had a fellow feeling for Chinese Christians because of my great general interest in China but this was rapidly becoming a greater concern.
I thought about a meeting the night before where my friend Monette had happily been reporting that a couple on the verge of divorce was back together again, working through their problems. This is the second couple she had brought to us for prayer who had been able to see a way toward saving their marriage. We were teasing and saying that she would become the saint of troubled marriages. She said, "It was that novena I said. I'm telling you, it worked both times!"
I remembered that statement and thought about the fact that I used to say novenas and had fallen out of the habit. Maybe it was time for a novena to kick start me into remembering these far away brothers and sisters in Christ. I looked over to my table where I had stacks of books, thinking that I should dig out that rosary book, look for something to say. "No, later," I told myself. "After prayer."
But I would find myself compulsively looking over at that table, find myself wondering what it was that I felt I should look for right now and then remember ... that book of novenas. Time for that later. It was the strangest thing y'all.
Not as strange as a bit later, when I am not kidding, I found myself standing in front of that table reaching toward those books. I didn't remember getting up or even thinking about it. I just was suddenly standing there.
Ok, this wasn't going to go away. I would find the book and then do it later.
I sat down, book in hand, and thought that I might as well go ahead and see what novena would be a good one. If this wasn't going to go away, I would take care of it and then talk more personally to God. (Yes, because I'm dense, I know!)
I flipped the novena book open at random ... to St. Francis Xavier. Patron of foreign missions. I began laughing. Message received. This is the novena that I began yesterday.
Did we?
No, no we didn't.
Except, knowing that I felt I should post this experience but that embarrassment was bugging me to death ... of course, this is just a sample of what was laid on me this morning:
However, just in case I felt I was reading into things, our Deacon sent out a copy of a letter he'd received yesterday. It was from the priest at the parish that our church had taken the Christ Renews His Parish retreats to in the Fall. I read it this morning. In part, he said:
OK! I get it!
And so do you ... the whole story.
This is a theme that has resonated with me lately. Of course, since we just had the Feast of the Epiphany (the three wise men) the liturgical emphasis naturally is about Jesus being here for all people, everywhere.
However, I felt this even more strongly having recently read books about the faithful in China and Africa. Granted, both are vastly different books but both also bring forth clearly the struggle and suffering these people go through both in their lives and to practice their faith. Compounding that emphasis is the fact that I recently received and have almost finished Secret Believers: What Happens When Muslims Believe in Christ which added the Middle East in a real and haunting way to my vision of the struggling church.
When Jesus saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.How privileged we are to live here where the worst we usually have to complain about in practicing our faith is that a church isn't playing the sort of music we prefer. Yes, I know there can be worse abuses but let's be honest here. They occur on a very small scale compared to the struggles of those in other countries where they often do not know if anyone else knows of their plight.Mark 6:34
While pondering this in prayer yesterday, I read the line that is the headline for this post. It stuck with me. Then I read that bit of Mark above. I have always had a fellow feeling for Chinese Christians because of my great general interest in China but this was rapidly becoming a greater concern.
I thought about a meeting the night before where my friend Monette had happily been reporting that a couple on the verge of divorce was back together again, working through their problems. This is the second couple she had brought to us for prayer who had been able to see a way toward saving their marriage. We were teasing and saying that she would become the saint of troubled marriages. She said, "It was that novena I said. I'm telling you, it worked both times!"
I remembered that statement and thought about the fact that I used to say novenas and had fallen out of the habit. Maybe it was time for a novena to kick start me into remembering these far away brothers and sisters in Christ. I looked over to my table where I had stacks of books, thinking that I should dig out that rosary book, look for something to say. "No, later," I told myself. "After prayer."
But I would find myself compulsively looking over at that table, find myself wondering what it was that I felt I should look for right now and then remember ... that book of novenas. Time for that later. It was the strangest thing y'all.
Not as strange as a bit later, when I am not kidding, I found myself standing in front of that table reaching toward those books. I didn't remember getting up or even thinking about it. I just was suddenly standing there.
Ok, this wasn't going to go away. I would find the book and then do it later.
I sat down, book in hand, and thought that I might as well go ahead and see what novena would be a good one. If this wasn't going to go away, I would take care of it and then talk more personally to God. (Yes, because I'm dense, I know!)
I flipped the novena book open at random ... to St. Francis Xavier. Patron of foreign missions. I began laughing. Message received. This is the novena that I began yesterday.
I didn't post this yesterday. I felt that surely everyone had had enough of my personal prayer life. Certainly I felt embarrassed about the mystical tinge I'd be exhibiting if I told it. I'd already let that particular bit of my life hang out there for all to see. No need to dwell on it again. I could just post the novena. We didn't need all that explanation.The Miraculous Novena of GraceMost amiable and most loving Saint Francis Xavier, in union with you I reverently adore the Divine Majesty. I rejoice exceedingly on account of the marvelous gifts which God bestowed upon you. I thank God for the special graces he gave you during your life on earth and for the great glory that came to you after your death. I implore you to obtain for me, through your powerful intercession, the greatest of all blessings, that of living and dying inthe state of grace. I also beg of you to secure for me the special favor I ask in this novena. In asking this favor, I am fully resigned to the Divine Will. I pray and desire only to obtain that which is most conducive to the greater glory of God and the greater good of my soul. amen(here you may mention the grace, spiritual or temporal, that you wish to obtain.)
For joy, peace, and support of oppressed Christians
in China, the Middle East, and Africa.
Also for their oppressors--forgiveness and opened eyes to the truth.
(Recite one Our Father, one Hail Mary, one Glory Be.)
Did we?
No, no we didn't.
Except, knowing that I felt I should post this experience but that embarrassment was bugging me to death ... of course, this is just a sample of what was laid on me this morning:
The Lord is my light and my help;Now, granted, we all know that anyone with something on their mind will take special notice of those readings all together. However, I thought that I'd go ahead and heed what I was feeling here.
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
before whom shall I shrink? (Psalm 26:1)
Go upon to a high mountain,/ Zion, herald of glad tidings; Cry out at the top of your voice,/ Jerusalem, the herald of good news! Fear not to cry out and say to the cities of Judah: Here is your God! (Isaiah 40:9-10)
Fear not, I am with you. (Is 41:10)
Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid! (Mk 6:50).
However, just in case I felt I was reading into things, our Deacon sent out a copy of a letter he'd received yesterday. It was from the priest at the parish that our church had taken the Christ Renews His Parish retreats to in the Fall. I read it this morning. In part, he said:
The spirit is burning within us only because the parishioners of St. Tomas Aquinas Catholic Church were willing to carry this flame of love and knowledge to our parish.Right between the eyes with the holy 2x4!
OK! I get it!
And so do you ... the whole story.
Like a nursing child in the arms of the one who nourishes him...
Bishop Schneider said that just as a baby opens his mouth to receive nourishment from his mother, so should Catholics open their mouths to receive nourishment from Jesus.Deacon Greg points to an article by a bishop in the Vatican newspaper who says, "The reverence and awe of Catholics who truly believe they are receiving Jesus in the Eucharist should lead them to kneel and receive Communion on their tongues."
"Christ truly nourishes us with his body and blood in holy Communion and, in the patristic era, it was compared to maternal breastfeeding," he said.
"The awareness of the greatness of the eucharistic mystery is demonstrated in a special way by the manner in which the body of the Lord is distributed and received," the bishop wrote.
Our parish still has and uses the altar rail. Although our priest has made it very clear that anyone may stand if they prefer, practically everyone kneels. Most people do receive in the hand which doesn't bother me since I know that was a very old style. For instance, St. Cyril of Jerusalem (313-386) counsels the Faithful to “make a throne of your hands in which to receive the King [in Holy Communion]."
I'm terrified of dropping the host so receive on the tongue and have gotten quite used to sticking my tongue out to give the deacon a good shot at sticking it on. I really hadn't stopped to consider the sort of imagery the bishop puts forth in the article. It does give one pause.
Anyway, its an interesting article and Deacon Greg's musings are also interesting. Go read it all.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
"I want a tricycle and a dog who won't chew my Hot Wheels, and a brighter future for America"
It might be time for us to start watching The Simpsons again. It looks as if they've got their edge back and I've always liked the way that they spare no political party with their satire (hey, they're even handed, you've gotta admit). Check out Ralph Wiggum's launch for president.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Worth a Thousand Words
Fence taken by Hey Jules.
Not that I can relate to this personally as the weather just turned an unseasonable 65+ degrees today. I notice that nobody's complaining.
Catholic Media Review is Bursting at the Seams with Great Stuff
I had great hopes for this group media review spot y'all but I am being blown away at the quality and quantity of great writing that is flowing like fine wine over there.
I really didn't expect it to become one of my favorite places for checking out reviews on books and movies. Every time I check it (and that's a lot since I'm working on getting the place set up) there is something else that I have to read or print out for evening perusal. If nothing else, I'm having a great time (and it's all about me right?).
I really didn't expect it to become one of my favorite places for checking out reviews on books and movies. Every time I check it (and that's a lot since I'm working on getting the place set up) there is something else that I have to read or print out for evening perusal. If nothing else, I'm having a great time (and it's all about me right?).
Friday, January 4, 2008
Well, I'm here Jesus, but I'm not happy about it! [Updated]
Nice way to start off a prayer session isn't it?
After about two weeks of spending a certain time each morning in prayer, sometimes getting nice feelings, sometimes getting a bit of enlightenment, sometimes just being there peacefully ... this morning I was in full revolt.
It probably was the first time I've ever come to prayer feeling as like a rebellious kid about to have a tantrum. Oh, I've been mad at God before but this was different. I didn't even have anything in particular that I'd rather have been doing, except anything but be there.
I thought of Fr. Dubay in his series on contemplation which I just finished yesterday. He said that those who practice deep prayer want to spend more and more time with the Beloved. As if I needed the confirmation, but obviously I could check any "deep prayer" off my list.
I'd start a prayer and then stop and look at all the books in the bookcase that I could be reading instead. I'd look at the morning psalm in my recently purchased Christian Prayer, read it through, flip around in a desultory fashion, and think about something (anything) else. Usually I care that I'm being distracted, catch myself and go back to meditation, but this was a seeking out of distractions. Aaargh.
I flipped around the Bible and came to passage after passage that I had marked during my CHRP discernment to be Lay Director. I remembered that glorious time when prayer was so easy, when I could almost actually hear Jesus' voice in the little thoughts that would float in unasked ... that came up with comments in a tone I'd never have used on myself. Well guess what. I didn't care about that now. (Yep, I was in a mood.)
I thought of the many wise people who have pointed out that we need relationship with God and just as you treasure time with your husband you will treasure this time with God. You know what? Sometimes I don't feel like being with Tom. And, sometimes he doesn't feel like being with me.
Yes, I know that God is bigger than all that. Obviously I was much, much smaller than all that ... and I knew it. In the back of my mind, intellectually, I knew it. But I didn't even have enough feelings about it to feel embarrassed or ashamed. It was a fact. I knew it. But I didn't feel it.
And then, in all my flipping, I read this, written by today's saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton:
The present moment.
I thought back to this article the first part of which was in last week's bulletin ... about meditating, ruminating on God's word.
I thought about relationship.
I thought about the present moment ... talking to God.
I thought about Jesus in my mind's eye. And I started talking. Not to him as God but to him as my brother, as a person, in relationship. I said, "Listen, I'm sorry because I know I've got a lousy attitude and I'm wasting your time here."
Into my head floated the thought, "But you showed up."
"Oh, right," I thought. "How like me to start making excuses right off the bat. Sheez, I am hopeless."
I continued, "Jesus, I know I don't have to feel anything but I am really sorry that I don't even care that I don't care. But there you go, that's where I'm at."
Again the thought, "But you showed up."
Again I dismissed my easy propensity to deflect blame.
I did have the grace to offer prayer for others, especially those most on my heart (and y'all know who you are), figuring that I didn't need to waste all my time.
The timer beeped and I bounded out of there.
Later, washing dishes, making lunches, getting dressed, I kept thinking about that stray thought. "But you showed up."
I suddenly thought of something I'd read (can't remember where or who) that said that we are much harder on ourselves sometimes than our friends would be or that God would ever be.
"But you showed up."
Finally, I got it. I did show up. Before, I wouldn't have bothered spending time at prayer. I'd have said that I had too much to do, didn't have the time, and that I'd make that prayer time up later (famous last words, right?).
However, that option hadn't crossed my mind. I'd been rebellious and snarky as all get out. But I had been there. Even simply going through the motion, I had been there.
That little bit of progress was head and shoulders above anything I've attempted in prayer for the past year, folks. (Yes, I'm baring all, that's for sure.)
It could have been with a better attitude. It could have been with a more open heart. But I was there. Giving God the time to work on me, regardless of my mood, and what's more ... He actually did it.
He did it.
I know that no time at prayer is ever wasted, but this is the first time I've ever thought about the fact that in spite of myself and my best efforts to rebel, God uses that time anyway. Fruitfully.
But he's ever faithful. And all it took was the slightest bit of faithfulness on my part to give him the chance he needed.
How do I feel now?
Grateful.
UPDATE
This morning when I showed up and had that mental moment of quieting my mind down before I began what we would formally recognize as prayer, I got this sense of underlying humor, laughter, and a dig in the ribs. "Oh so nice to see you! And how are we feeling today, missie?"
I am telling you, it was a definite change to begin that time in a fit of giggles.
After about two weeks of spending a certain time each morning in prayer, sometimes getting nice feelings, sometimes getting a bit of enlightenment, sometimes just being there peacefully ... this morning I was in full revolt.
It probably was the first time I've ever come to prayer feeling as like a rebellious kid about to have a tantrum. Oh, I've been mad at God before but this was different. I didn't even have anything in particular that I'd rather have been doing, except anything but be there.
I thought of Fr. Dubay in his series on contemplation which I just finished yesterday. He said that those who practice deep prayer want to spend more and more time with the Beloved. As if I needed the confirmation, but obviously I could check any "deep prayer" off my list.
I'd start a prayer and then stop and look at all the books in the bookcase that I could be reading instead. I'd look at the morning psalm in my recently purchased Christian Prayer, read it through, flip around in a desultory fashion, and think about something (anything) else. Usually I care that I'm being distracted, catch myself and go back to meditation, but this was a seeking out of distractions. Aaargh.
I flipped around the Bible and came to passage after passage that I had marked during my CHRP discernment to be Lay Director. I remembered that glorious time when prayer was so easy, when I could almost actually hear Jesus' voice in the little thoughts that would float in unasked ... that came up with comments in a tone I'd never have used on myself. Well guess what. I didn't care about that now. (Yep, I was in a mood.)
I thought of the many wise people who have pointed out that we need relationship with God and just as you treasure time with your husband you will treasure this time with God. You know what? Sometimes I don't feel like being with Tom. And, sometimes he doesn't feel like being with me.
Yes, I know that God is bigger than all that. Obviously I was much, much smaller than all that ... and I knew it. In the back of my mind, intellectually, I knew it. But I didn't even have enough feelings about it to feel embarrassed or ashamed. It was a fact. I knew it. But I didn't feel it.
And then, in all my flipping, I read this, written by today's saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton:
O Father, the first rule of our dear Savior's life was to do your will. Let his will of the present moment be the first rule of our daily life and work, with no other desire but for its most full and compete accomplishment. Help us to follow it faithfully, so that doing what you wish we will be pleasing to you.I paused.
The present moment.
I thought back to this article the first part of which was in last week's bulletin ... about meditating, ruminating on God's word.
I thought about relationship.
I thought about the present moment ... talking to God.
I thought about Jesus in my mind's eye. And I started talking. Not to him as God but to him as my brother, as a person, in relationship. I said, "Listen, I'm sorry because I know I've got a lousy attitude and I'm wasting your time here."
Into my head floated the thought, "But you showed up."
"Oh, right," I thought. "How like me to start making excuses right off the bat. Sheez, I am hopeless."
I continued, "Jesus, I know I don't have to feel anything but I am really sorry that I don't even care that I don't care. But there you go, that's where I'm at."
Again the thought, "But you showed up."
Again I dismissed my easy propensity to deflect blame.
I did have the grace to offer prayer for others, especially those most on my heart (and y'all know who you are), figuring that I didn't need to waste all my time.
The timer beeped and I bounded out of there.
Later, washing dishes, making lunches, getting dressed, I kept thinking about that stray thought. "But you showed up."
I suddenly thought of something I'd read (can't remember where or who) that said that we are much harder on ourselves sometimes than our friends would be or that God would ever be.
"But you showed up."
Finally, I got it. I did show up. Before, I wouldn't have bothered spending time at prayer. I'd have said that I had too much to do, didn't have the time, and that I'd make that prayer time up later (famous last words, right?).
However, that option hadn't crossed my mind. I'd been rebellious and snarky as all get out. But I had been there. Even simply going through the motion, I had been there.
That little bit of progress was head and shoulders above anything I've attempted in prayer for the past year, folks. (Yes, I'm baring all, that's for sure.)
It could have been with a better attitude. It could have been with a more open heart. But I was there. Giving God the time to work on me, regardless of my mood, and what's more ... He actually did it.
He did it.
I know that no time at prayer is ever wasted, but this is the first time I've ever thought about the fact that in spite of myself and my best efforts to rebel, God uses that time anyway. Fruitfully.
But he's ever faithful. And all it took was the slightest bit of faithfulness on my part to give him the chance he needed.
How do I feel now?
Grateful.
UPDATE
This morning when I showed up and had that mental moment of quieting my mind down before I began what we would formally recognize as prayer, I got this sense of underlying humor, laughter, and a dig in the ribs. "Oh so nice to see you! And how are we feeling today, missie?"
I am telling you, it was a definite change to begin that time in a fit of giggles.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
A Little Useless Information
It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information. -- Oscar Wilde
George Washington had to borrow money to go to his own inauguration.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Mark Your Calendars
January is pro-life month in a big way!
First of all, we've got the last "First Friday Fast" this week.
Secondly, there is the March for Life on Saturday, January 19. I'll be meeting Mark Windsor and Laura before the 10:00 Mass and then we'll participate in the March to the Federal Courthouse where Roe vs. Wade was originally filed.
I've never done anything like this before so it will be a first for me ... and I'm rather nervous. But what's life without new challenges, right? And this is for the best reason of all ... life.
If anyone else wants to join in, let me know and I'll get the particulars to you about where we're meeting up.
First of all, we've got the last "First Friday Fast" this week.
Secondly, there is the March for Life on Saturday, January 19. I'll be meeting Mark Windsor and Laura before the 10:00 Mass and then we'll participate in the March to the Federal Courthouse where Roe vs. Wade was originally filed.
I've never done anything like this before so it will be a first for me ... and I'm rather nervous. But what's life without new challenges, right? And this is for the best reason of all ... life.
If anyone else wants to join in, let me know and I'll get the particulars to you about where we're meeting up.
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