Apaches to Apples

So how does one wind down a day after having spent six hours working on rewiring a good portion of his basement? By finding Fort Apache on Turner Classic movies, grabbing a glass of Maker's Mark, and planting himself on his couch under a quilt to enjoy Henry Fonda and John Wayne.

Or so I was until the rest of the family joined me an hour later. Off went the Duke just as he was riding off into the mesas of Arizona. In came Tim Conway and Don Knotts and the rest of The Apple Dumpling Gang on DVD.

Oh well...

1/22/73

Another year, another sad anniversary has passed. I've got this stop sign in my garage, and will be walking with it yet again next Saturday in front of the state capital at 10am during the Walk For Life. This year Terri Schiavo's brother will be a keynote speaker, as lest we forget, protecting life does not mean just the life of the unborn. Our country was reminded of that sad fact last year in Florida. I believe Fr. Frank Pavone of Priests For Life will be speaking as well. I wish I were hearing both men under different circumstances.

Jeff Miller, over at The Curt Jester, has some comments on this as well as a link to the photos posted here. Have you ever noticed the twisted hate and rage on the faces of the pro-abortion crowd? It's chilling.

Being Called

The last several day's worth of Gospel readings have involved Jesus calling his apostles to their vocations with him, and has put the word "vocation" to the forefront for me once again.

The discovery of our personal vocation is the most important moment in our whole existence. Our happiness and the happiness of many others depends on our faithful response to this call. God creates us, He prepares us and He calls us according to a divine plan.

If there are so many Christians who today live aimlessly with little depth, and hemmed in on all sides by narrow horizons, it is due, above all, to their lack of any clear idea of why they, personally, exist . . . What elevates a man and truly gives him a personality of his own is the consciousness of his vocation, the consciousness of his own specific task in the universe. (F. Suarez, Mary of Nazareth)

Our own "specific task in the universe." What is it? How do we find out? How do we know? Or better yet...do we ALREADY know? How many times has God whispered it into our ears during prayer, Mass, reading, dreams, or (don't laugh) in the shower? The shower is for me my most peaceful time during the day and usually where my best thoughts or ideas occur to me. Well, in prayer, too, of course...but shamefully some days my shower lasts longer than my prayers do.

Perhaps God is no longer whispering it to us but screaming it into our deaf ears. It's amazing how it can become apparent that coincidences really aren't coincidences once you stop looking for what YOU want to do, and really "be still" and open yourself up to anything. The things that prevent us from hearing in most instances are pride and fear. Pride because perhaps we don't WANT to volunteer for the poor or man the phones in a crisis pregnancy center because we percieve it not to be visible enough or to make a difference. Fear because we have no clue how on earth God could be calling ME to raise over $2 million dollars and start a Catholic radio station in Lincoln.

We have to put aside our pride...put aside our fears. We have to trust. Trust in Him. Trust in His divine plan for us. To cast aside OUR nets as Peter and the others did when called as they were in today's Gospel.

To be continued...

12 Days

I am a month late in getting this one up, but wanted to have it here for reference. This song has never been necessarily a "favorite" of mine, yet when you learn the history and meaning behind it you want to commit it to heart. Of course I never have quite lived down performing this song in the 3rd grade during our school's Christmas concert in Artesian, South Dakota. There were 36 kids in my class, and our music teacher thought it would be hilarious if we divided the class into twelve groups of three kids each, and had those kids stand up when it was their turn to sing their verse. For instance, I was one of three "Seven Swans a-swimming". We sat in the bleachers in four rows and in numerical order of our days, and as you can imagine a massive "stand up and sit down" session occurred during the endless duration of that song. The audience roared their approval; we kids merely giggled and tried not to pass out from all the sudden standing and sitting. By the time we got to the twelfth day, those poor kids in the front row were totally wiped out!

There is one Christmas Carol that has always baffled me. What in the world do leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have to do with Christmas?

From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.

The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.

Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.

Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.

The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.

The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.

The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit: Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.

Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit - Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.

The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.

The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.

The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.

Where once rulers, leaders

I had meant to post this National Review article that was written by Nebraska's own R. Andrew Newman. I confess, I'd never read his stuff before, but as he had written on Narnia it naturally garnered my attention. He is stretching a bit in comparing Narnia to the modern form of government, which I agree can tend towards an intrusive, top-heavy, bureaucratic-Orwellian mess. And don't even get me started on the NEA. In his article, he does a nice job of capturing the Narnian spirit of government and comparing it to the socialistic tendencies of our own. But I especially like the quote by C.S. Lewis towards the end:

...Narnia, where the state is modest, making good laws, keeping the peace, stopping busybodies, protecting the land and its subjects, and allowing folks to "live and let live."

Perhaps some will think I'm making too much of this, piling political theory upon a children's story. But Lewis himself feared the modern state. In an essay that deserves to be better known, "Is Progress Possible? Willing Slaves of the Welfare State," Lewis argued that the state no longer exists to "protect our rights but to do us good or make us good — anyway, to do something to us or to make us something. Hence the new name 'leaders' for those who were once 'rulers.' We are less their subjects than their wards, pupils, or domestic animals. There is nothing left of which we can say to them, 'Mind your own business.' Our whole lives are their business."

At least in Narnia, the state has its business and the subjects retain theirs.

Actually, it's one of those weeks...

But this, too, shall pass....
(click on the image to enlarge it)

The Ride

It was the day AFTER Christmas at a church in San Francisco. The pastor of the church was looking at the manger scene when he noticed that the baby Jesus figure was missing from the cradle. He immediately turned and went outside and saw a little boy with a red wagon walking down the street. In the wagon was the figure of the infant Jesus. So he walked up to the boy and said, "Son, where did you get that little baby Jesus that's in your wagon?"

The little boy replied, "I got Him from the church."

"And why did you take Him?" asked the pastor.

The little boy replied, "Well, about a week before Christmas, I prayed to the Lord Jesus. I told Him if He would bring me a red wagon for Christmas, I would give Him a ride around the block in it."

Appreciation: The First Love

From The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis, on the subject of Appreciation, the First Love:

The people with whom you are thrown together in the family, the college, the mess, the ship, the religious house, are from this point of view a wider circle than the friends, however numerous, whom you have made for yourself in the outer world. By having a great many friends I do not prove that I have a wide appreciation of human excellence. You might as well say I prove the width of my literary taste by being able to enjoy all the books in my own study. The answer is the same in both cases--"You chose those books. You chose those friends. Of course they suit you." The truly wide taste in reading is that which enables a man to find something for his needs on the sixpenny tray outside any secondhand bookshop. The truly wide taste in humanity will similarly find something to appreciate in the cross-section of humanity whom one has to meet every day. In my experience it is Affection that creates this taste, teaching us first to notice, then to endure, then to smile at, then to enjoy, and finally to appreciate, the people who "happen to be there." Made for us? Thank God, no. They are themselves, odder than you could have believed and worth far more than we guessed.

Look. Listen. Attend.

"To really love something you have to be willing to let it go." I don't know if anyone famous or unfamous uttered those words before as I heard something similar said by G.K. Chesterton once but am paraphrasing in the late night hour. True though, don't you think?

Some random thoughts:
I've not been able to blog much due to the hectic activity at work, my remodelling project at home, various committees, and due to life in general I suppose. I did have to take a timeout on Thursday in order to drive back to my hometown to say farewell to an old friend. Bob was my 8th grade teacher, a coach, a father to two of my best high school friends, and an all-around wonderful human being. He died last Sunday after an ugly and prolonged illness just shy of his 70th birthday...surrounded by his wife, children and grandchildren. A more honorable man I've yet to meet. Someday I'll write about him...just not now.

Unfathomable guilty pleasures:
Keanu Reeves. A more wooden man I've seldom seen outside of politics, but damned if two of my unexplainably favorite movies don't have him starring within: A Walk In The Clouds and Sweet November. One of the mysteries of this life, eh?

What to read, what to read?
Ever since finishing The Chronicles of Narnia I have been struggling to find something to start. I've begun The Return of the King, Thoreau's Walden, and was just about to begin Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, when I cracked open C.S. Lewis's The Four Loves and came across the following paragraph on page 19:

If you take nature as a teacher she will teach you exactly the lessons you had already decided to learn; this is only another way of saying that nature does not teach. The tendency to take her as a teacher is obviously very easily grafted on to the experience we call "love of nature." But it is only a graft. While we are actually subjected to them, the "moods" and "spirits" of nature point no morals. Overwhelming gaiety, insupportable grandeur, sombre desolation are flung at you. Make what you can of them, if you must make at all. The only imperative that nature utters is, "Look. Listen. Attend."

I think I'll stick with Jack Lewis for awhile.......just to see where he takes me. It's just after midnight as I finish this, so I'm off for a sip of leftover New Year's Eve cognac and a few pages of my newest reading pleasure. God bless...I'll try to return more often.

The New Year of Eternity

As we enter into a new year, the inevitable looking back as well as the resolutions for moving forward are at the forefront of many a person's thoughts. Once again I turn to St. John Vianney, the Curé of Ars, for guidance in moving ahead to the new year.

There are days and hours when man's views become broader and deeper, when he looks out over the narrow confines of this temporal life into eternity; there are days and hours when man is involuntarily urged, more than usually, to weigh himself and those belonging to him in the scales of eternity. New Year's day is a day of this kind. The New Year reminds us so vividly of the change and the instability of all earthly things, and of our own frailty; the New Year tells us that we have taken another long stride toward eternity; the New Year recalls to our mind these two words, so full of meaning, "Transitory," "Eternal."

The year just departing brought to many people not joy alone, but a great deal of suffering, but with the good days, the bad days passed over, too; the trouble is overcome; tears which flowed have been dried again. And if, perhaps, some of us have to take our old troubles with us into the New Year, let that not discourage us; some day even the greatest sorrow will have an end, when the New Year of eternity dawns for us.

My oldest son and I watched Return of the King last night, and one song in particular from the movie brought me back to St. Vianney's thoughts as we face a new year. Billy Boyd did a marvelous job of composing and singing this dirge-like accapella during Faramir's suicidal charge on the overwhelming forces of the enemy. But if you take the lyrics in another context, say, facing a new year, I think they are as poignant. Home (our safe, known past) is indeed behind us in the past of 2005, but in the world ahead (2006) we will indeed have many paths, and many choices, ahead of us. Some will be extremely difficult and challenging, and even life-altering. But as St. Vianney alludes to in his saying that "all sorrow will have an end", so too will the mist and the shadow fade.

Home is behind
The world ahead.
And there are many paths to tread.

Through shadow,
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight

Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall...fade.

Beginning and ending with God

An old Christian proverb says, beautifully and truthfully, "Begin with God and end with God, and yours will be the happiest life."

St. John Vianney used this passage in a New Year's Eve sermon in 1899 and was talking in the context of how one spends each day: in communion with God. But when I read it recently I immediately thought of a tradition that we have with several friends of ours for New Year's Eve: our progressive dinner.

We began this year with appetizers and drinks at J & E's and were able to take in the newly remodelled kitchen after two plus months of construction. The men retired downstairs to shoot pool for a bit and to polish off a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream before we all headed to L & S's for the soup/salad portion of the evening at 9pm. And finally around 10:30ish or so the crew of six couples journeyed to our home for desserts, coffee, and a new bottle of cognac that I purchased just for the occassion.

How does this tie back to St. Vianney's quote above? Simply this: at ten minutes to midnight each year we do the most solemn and important reason for our gathering each year. At 11:50pm we begin our rosary that will last until approximately ten minutes past the midnight hour. In this manner we "begin with God and end with God" by reciting one of the most beautiful and sacred prayers of the Church. It has always touched me to do this, considering that New Year's Day is also the Solemnity of Mary and one of the most sacred feast days of the year. But also because each year several of our friend's children will join us in this prayer. This year we were joined by three high school boys, two of whom had their teen girlfriends with them. They look like your typical teenager...long hair, baggy clothes, or low-riding jeans. But they also show up on New Year's Eve, rosary in hand, in order to join with their parents (think about that for a minute!) as well as other adults in order to pray in the new year. I love it.

Before we began the Joyful Mysteries of the rosary this year I led the intercessions and responses that were found in the Divine Office's Evening Prayers of December 31. I'll end this post by sharing them below.

In his great love for us, God sent his Son in the likeness of our sinful nature, born of a woman and subject to the law, alleluia.

Blessed by the Lord Jesus, our Peace, who came to unite man with God. Let us pray to him in humility:
Lord, grant your peace to all.

When you were born you showed your kindness and gentleness,
--help us always to be grateful for all your blessings.

You made Mary, your Mother, full of grace,
--give all people the fullness of grace.

You came to announce God's good news to the world,
--increase the number of preachers and hearers of your word.

You desired to become our brother by being born of the Virgin Mary,
--teach men and women to love each other in mutual brotherhood.

You came as the Sun rising over the earth,
--show the light of your countenance to those who have died.

Our Father...

Father,
source of light in every age,
the virgin conceived and bore your Son
who is called Wonderful God, Prince of Peace.
May her prayer, the gift of a mother's love,
be your people's joy through all ages.
May her response, born of a humble heart,
draw your Spirit to rest on your people.
Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Welcome to 2006

Happy 2006 everyone! I'm posting a few days later than I'd wanted, but it's been a busy few days. I'm in the throes of remodeling part of our basement so that the #1 son can move into his own room and I've a lot of lumber arriving later this morning so that I can begin framing in some walls....as well as install about a half dozen outlets. The big fun will be firing off the Remington concrete hammer in order to attach the bottom of the frames to the concrete flooring. This hammer discharges the 2.5 inch nail into the 2x4 and the floor with the aid of a .22 caliber blank shell. Woohoooo...gonna be loud in the ol' basement today.

But enough of that. I've a few items I wanted to touch upon before going this morning, and will try to be brief. After all, I do tend to emulate the words used by our Bishop Bruskewitz as he described himself at a dinner that my wife and I attended on Friday night. At the beginning of his brief speech he said that he was going to try to keep it short because he had "been told that I tend to go on like God's mercy: forever and in an incomprehensible manner." That also suits me to a tee as well. And since brevity is the soul of wit, I will now endeavor to be brief in my next few postings.

Happy New Year again everyone. May it see you showered with graces and blessings throughout 2006 and beyond.