I wanted to share this prayer that i found in a 1958 Catholic prayer book.
Most beautiful, i think, is that, unlike incomplete or false religions, we Catholics beg the mercy of God upon those who do not know Him or do not love Him as He asks instead of asking for their obliteration.
Read on. Copy and paste. Print it out. Pray it. And live it.
O eternal God, the creator of all things, remember the infidel peoples whom Thou hast created in Thine own image and likeness.
Lord, behold how, to Thy dishonor, hell is being filled with these souls. Bear in mind that Thy Son Jesus suffered a most cruel death for their salvation.
Lord, do not permit that Thy Son be further despised by these infidels, but be appeased by the prayers of Thy saints and the Church, the Spouse of Thy most holy Son. Remember Thy mercy, and blot out their idolatries and infidelities. May these peoples be ignorant no longer of Him who is our salvation, life, and resurrection, through whom we have been saved and liberated. To Him let their be glory throughout all ages. Amen.
(St. Francis Xavier)
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
A Question for my Canon Lawyer Reader (or anyone else who might know the answer)
I occassionally get 5-second slivers of time to ponder things theological.
This opportunity doesn't come very often, but when it presents itself, i am no doubt likely to stumble into areas of thought beyond my expertise. The CIC has always proven a sound reference for me, but as i no longer have access to one at my late parish office, i find myself wasting too much time searching through it on the internet. So to spare my children parental neglect, i throw it out there for all of you. Here's the latest:
At what age of the child is the will of one's parents no longer sufficient for the valid reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation?
And consider that in light of the tragically all-too-common circs. of the modern era.
(For instance, is baptized Jimmy, age 13 and totally immature on most fronts, sufficiently competent to say that he does not want to be Confirmed?
Or are mom and dad, who are mature, competent, and primarily responsible for the education of Jimmy, still able to make that act of will for him now that they made for him at his infant baptism?)
Answer and references would be appreciated....
This opportunity doesn't come very often, but when it presents itself, i am no doubt likely to stumble into areas of thought beyond my expertise. The CIC has always proven a sound reference for me, but as i no longer have access to one at my late parish office, i find myself wasting too much time searching through it on the internet. So to spare my children parental neglect, i throw it out there for all of you. Here's the latest:
At what age of the child is the will of one's parents no longer sufficient for the valid reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation?
And consider that in light of the tragically all-too-common circs. of the modern era.
(For instance, is baptized Jimmy, age 13 and totally immature on most fronts, sufficiently competent to say that he does not want to be Confirmed?
Or are mom and dad, who are mature, competent, and primarily responsible for the education of Jimmy, still able to make that act of will for him now that they made for him at his infant baptism?)
Answer and references would be appreciated....
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Arguements Against Laundry
I've had it.
American standards are too high.
I think we should just wear and rewear our clothes until they either stink wretchedly or have rips and tears all over them. Clean clothes never stay clean for long.
It's inevitable.
As soon as i pull crisp slacks out of the dryer, a baby is going to use my leg as a diaper.
And my toddler, who still needs potty assistance, is going to misfire and soak my shirt.
And i am going to spill German Roasted coffee on my rarely-washed-because-they-fit-better-the-more-i-wear-them jean capris, which, as fate would have it, just finished drying on the clothes line.
And the knee of my newest jeans is going to wear through just as my cowboy toddler dismounts "Mommy horse" on his way to his nap.
That's just what happens to my wardrobe in a morning.
I wont even talk about the spit up that molded on the baby's cutest shirt....
Did Thomas Aquinas give any arguements against laundry in the Summa?
I'm totally looking.
American standards are too high.
I think we should just wear and rewear our clothes until they either stink wretchedly or have rips and tears all over them. Clean clothes never stay clean for long.
It's inevitable.
As soon as i pull crisp slacks out of the dryer, a baby is going to use my leg as a diaper.
And my toddler, who still needs potty assistance, is going to misfire and soak my shirt.
And i am going to spill German Roasted coffee on my rarely-washed-because-they-fit-better-the-more-i-wear-them jean capris, which, as fate would have it, just finished drying on the clothes line.
And the knee of my newest jeans is going to wear through just as my cowboy toddler dismounts "Mommy horse" on his way to his nap.
That's just what happens to my wardrobe in a morning.
I wont even talk about the spit up that molded on the baby's cutest shirt....
Did Thomas Aquinas give any arguements against laundry in the Summa?
I'm totally looking.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Propagation
"We multipy whenver we are mown down by you; the blood of Christians is seed."
Tertullian
Apology 50:13
Third Century
Tertullian
Apology 50:13
Third Century
Monday, July 16, 2007
Learn from the Master
Face it.
In order to achieve total satisfaction from a chocolate covered Oreo cookie, you MUST make this big of a mess of it.
Paul Johnson's critique aside, some would call this art.
Summer Bummer
You know how the blades of grass seem to pierce straight through the feet of the characters in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce?
Well, if your tired of just imagining what that would feel like and think you might enjoy experiencing that type of agony in real life, all you have to do is visit my backyard and walk barefoot across our drought-tortured lawn.
Just throwing that out there.
Well, if your tired of just imagining what that would feel like and think you might enjoy experiencing that type of agony in real life, all you have to do is visit my backyard and walk barefoot across our drought-tortured lawn.
Just throwing that out there.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Like a Thief in the Night
After adoration one evening last week, my children and I followed my husband into the church side Marian grotto to drink in the loveliness of the summer.
Unbeknownst to us, it was 5:59 p.m.
And said grotto is directly beneath the belfry of St. Michael’s Church.
Thomas was bending down to pick a flower from one of the garden beds (tsk! tsk!), when suddenly the Angelus bells tore through the summer’s eve silence.
My little man, in a half-stoop posture, uncontrollably JOLTED at the sudden awareness of the dread majesty of the toll of the centuries-old bells, which caught him completely unaware.
Ah, a foreshadowing of the Parousia!
Unbeknownst to us, it was 5:59 p.m.
And said grotto is directly beneath the belfry of St. Michael’s Church.
Thomas was bending down to pick a flower from one of the garden beds (tsk! tsk!), when suddenly the Angelus bells tore through the summer’s eve silence.
My little man, in a half-stoop posture, uncontrollably JOLTED at the sudden awareness of the dread majesty of the toll of the centuries-old bells, which caught him completely unaware.
Ah, a foreshadowing of the Parousia!
Friday, July 13, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
More than Luck
I caught a blip of the evening news last night, and, contrary to my normal television-watching behavior, i paid attention.
They were reporting on what they called the "Lucky Baby."
This lucky baby girl
was born on 07-07-07,
was born at exactly 7:07am,
and weighed exactly 7 lbs., 7 oz.
If you're keeping track, that's a total of 7 sevens.
Amazing? Absolutely.
Lucky? Why not something more transcendent?
I dont know if her parents are people of faith, but instead of refering to the biblical significance of the number seven, they just kept repeating embarrassingly obvious observations like, "I'm really glad she had all sevens, because seven is a lucky number, which stands for luck."
Perhaps if they had time to reflect a bit more in the midst of the whirlwind that childbirth is, they'd say this:
What a unique blessing for her birth to be surrounded by a number of eternal significance! Whatever the Lord has in store for her, may the recollection of her birth provide assurance to this "Lucky Baby" that the Almighty has a plan for her happiness in this world and the next!
They were reporting on what they called the "Lucky Baby."
This lucky baby girl
was born on 07-07-07,
was born at exactly 7:07am,
and weighed exactly 7 lbs., 7 oz.
If you're keeping track, that's a total of 7 sevens.
Amazing? Absolutely.
Lucky? Why not something more transcendent?
I dont know if her parents are people of faith, but instead of refering to the biblical significance of the number seven, they just kept repeating embarrassingly obvious observations like, "I'm really glad she had all sevens, because seven is a lucky number, which stands for luck."
Perhaps if they had time to reflect a bit more in the midst of the whirlwind that childbirth is, they'd say this:
What a unique blessing for her birth to be surrounded by a number of eternal significance! Whatever the Lord has in store for her, may the recollection of her birth provide assurance to this "Lucky Baby" that the Almighty has a plan for her happiness in this world and the next!
Monday, July 09, 2007
I Wasnt After THAT Quick of an Answer
After a wonderful week of hosting a family gathering, the return to the day-to-day hit me hard this morning.
I was exhausted when i rose from bed, and the humidity that arrived yesterday only intensified as the day carried on.
Needless to say, in the midst of grating zucchini, snapping green beans, blanching broccoli, comforting miserably hot infants, changing diapers, making lunch, dragging children to town, hitting the store, and continuing the trend of nap irregularity, i often found myself muttering Antiphon 1 of today's Psalmody: "When will i come to the end of my pilrimage and enter the presence of God?"
When the husband returned from his day of outdoor labor, I sought refuge from the heat and a day of hard work in the coolness of our basement.
Rosemarie was napping.
Thomas was "playing" a board game.
Joe was reading.
So i seized my first opportunity to wallow in self-pity.
I flopped onto the couch and pitifully whined aloud, "When will i come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?!??"
Little did i know that Thomas had abandoned his board game and had moved onto reenacting the deaths of his favorite martyrs, when, upon finishing my pathetic declaration, I was immediately pounced upon by our toddler who said,"Oh! Mommy! You got shot with the arrows like St. Sebastian! Aw... (cue toddler mock sadness) you died, Mommy!"
Finally! An excuse to lay still for a while.
I was exhausted when i rose from bed, and the humidity that arrived yesterday only intensified as the day carried on.
Needless to say, in the midst of grating zucchini, snapping green beans, blanching broccoli, comforting miserably hot infants, changing diapers, making lunch, dragging children to town, hitting the store, and continuing the trend of nap irregularity, i often found myself muttering Antiphon 1 of today's Psalmody: "When will i come to the end of my pilrimage and enter the presence of God?"
When the husband returned from his day of outdoor labor, I sought refuge from the heat and a day of hard work in the coolness of our basement.
Rosemarie was napping.
Thomas was "playing" a board game.
Joe was reading.
So i seized my first opportunity to wallow in self-pity.
I flopped onto the couch and pitifully whined aloud, "When will i come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?!??"
Little did i know that Thomas had abandoned his board game and had moved onto reenacting the deaths of his favorite martyrs, when, upon finishing my pathetic declaration, I was immediately pounced upon by our toddler who said,"Oh! Mommy! You got shot with the arrows like St. Sebastian! Aw... (cue toddler mock sadness) you died, Mommy!"
Finally! An excuse to lay still for a while.
Monday, July 02, 2007
18
18 beautiful children surrounding their grandparents.
3rd generation of Catholic heritage.
Michael
Marianna
Kateri
James
Matthew
Elizabeth
John
Theresa
Maria
Agnes
Augustine
Jacob
Clare
Maximillian
Jude
Magdalene
Thomas
Rosemarie
....Lots of souls destined for eternal beatitude.
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