Ramblings of a Recovering Trad

 The prayer after Communion at Mass today is an intriguing one: "Nourished by these divine gifts, Almighty God, we ask you to grant our desire: that, aflame with your spirit, we might shine like bright torches before your Christ when he comes. Who lives and reigns forever and ever." Now some might say this isn't nearly as intriguing as today's Gospel of Matthew, which details the genealogy of Jesus Christ.   I mean, this Gospel is redemption for every single of one of us who isn't convinced of our own perfection.  You think you have a few bad apples in your family?  The lineage of the Son of God has its share too.  Adulterers, murderers, prostitutes - they're all there.  The Good, The Bad and The Ugly to assure us that Jesus knew what he was getting into when he took our nature.    One thing I know about myself is that I have been falling down at the part about shining like a bright torch.   I don't say this from a false sense of humility either.  During t

One of my favorite passages from the writings of Servant of God Catherine de Hueck Doherty relays the time her parents hosted a tea for Russian dignitaries.  Her father was a Russian diplomat and there were several hundred invited guests at their home.  Catherine recalled that she was nine at the time and was permitted to attend, the social dressed to the nines and serving cakes.   A butler interrupted a conversation between her father and one of his prestigious guests with the announcement: "Christ is at the door."  Everything came to a standstill while her parents rushed to serve the man she described as a hobo.  They set down the finest linen and china and although she recounted that they had 14 servants in the house, her mother and father personally did the serving.  She described this episode as an excellent lesson in Christianity, watching her parents put their faith in action.   I think of this from time because of a homeless man who has "resided" in our neig

You never had a day that was all about you, until this one There would be no ring placed on your finger by a suitor No surprise planned by bridesmaids to shower you with gifts  No walk down the aisle in white lace, clinging to your beloved father's arm A cascade of flowers falling from your hand It was not to be Still you remained hopeful and never bitter I thought about this as I waited for your hearse to arrive at the cemetery The only time in your life when a hired black car would bring you to the place Where you would be the center of everyone's attention A public appearance planned to the last detail As you would have wanted Except for this You were never "fashionably late" for anything and I thought how you would not have liked this Keeping the guests waiting on a sunny but chilly November day I remembered the words of my favorite Emily Dickinson poem About how after death "a formal feeling comes" And this was the "hour of lead" It came like

The barn into which we gathered our harvest Outlined by the November sunset, reminds us: What's done is done What's not done is not done and will not be Not this time The season for growing is over  The trees stand on ceremony Few of their leaves   Each painted By the palette of the Divine Artist Still clinging to limbs They wait for the inevitable When winter's winds will strip what's left Of what Spring wrought on their branches When the season was full of promise November's love for us is unrequited Until that time When November is all we have that remains When there is nothing left to gather into the hayloft And we will wonder: Will it be enough To satisfy the Master of the Harvest Who does not reveal  How He will weigh the fruits of our labor? The sun sets over the fields Marked by monuments of granite and marble Engraved with the names of the laborers Who have set aside their plows And entered into their rest Listening for our prayers That beckon the Master To

When I finally met a certain Trad who wields a particularly poisonous pen against Pope Francis I am sure my presence at a Traditional Latin liturgy took him aback.  I was veiled and modestly dressed, prayed from a 1962 Missal from Baronius Press, and knew the postures and responses without even having to look at the Ordinary of the Missal.   He probably would have dropped his jaw on the floor had I told him I refrain from eating meat on any Friday that doesn't fall during an Octave, pray the Rosary nearly without fail, and confess as frequently as once a week. I prefer the Douay-Rheims Bible.  I'm not bragging. I'm just saying you can't judge a book by its cover, and in this case, the cover would be the fact that I support whoever the Pope is,  I attend the Ordinary Form and, perhaps most offensive of all, I refused to vote for Donald Trump and pulled the lever for Joe Biden.     The cover is also the mask on my face, which few if any others wore at this particular Mass

Today, the Traddies have their undies in a knot because Pope Francis met with President Biden at the Vatican and didn't publicly bar him from receiving Holy Communion.  According to Biden, the Pope informed him that he should continue to receive the Eucharist.  Pope Francis is keenly aware what the bishops and cardinals like Burke, Tobin and Strickland think about this.  One thing, however, they have been silent on and that is that the Catholic acting Attorney General of Oklahoma had an execution carried out last night that, from the accounts of eyewitnesses, was anything but humane. Now, I know that the victims of those murdered by death row occupants didn't have any say in their own executions.  But acknowledging that the death penalty should have no place in a society which claims to be civilized does not dismiss the victims or their grieving families.  It simply says that we are only as good as the way we treat the most contemptible among us.  Either we believe that only Go