For starters she has her feast-days wrong. Today is not the feast of St. Joseph the Worker (that’s on May 1), but the feast of St. Joseph the Husband of Mary, not to mention protector of the Christ Child.
Just think of it: Joseph agreed to protect Mary and take her into his home as his wife when (for all the neighbors knew) she was carrying another man’s child. He watched over Mary as she gave birth. He took the Child and his Mother to Egypt when Herod was slaying the innocent babies of Bethlehem to try to get to Him.
In other words, Joseph protected Jesus against the threats on his infant life.
No wonder Madame Speaker “forgot” to mention this aspect of the feast and of St. Joseph’s life!! How on earth can she think it proper to suggest that St. Joseph might support the passing of a bill that will lead to more slaughter of the unborn? Even worse, she is proclaiming that the bill is “life-affirming!” I hope some bishop calls her out publicly on this.
Even though Pelosi has forgotten St. Joseph’s role, let’s not forget it ourselves.
St. Joseph, Patron of the Unborn, pray for our nation, and for all those babies now being sacrificed on the altar of self. Protect those unborn children who are in danger of abortion as you once protected the Son of God on earth. St. Joseph, pray for us!
The Lorica [or breastplate] of St. Patrick is one of my favorite prayers
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth and his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion and his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection and his ascension…
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of angels…
In the hope of the resurrection,
In the prayers of ancestors in the faith,
In the preaching of the apostles,
In the faith of martyrs
In the innocence and purity of the deeds of the righteous.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.
I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me;
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a multitude.
I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against false prophets, false laws and idolatry…
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every one who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every one who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation
Lent is passing quickly, and I thought I should get this up well before Good Friday. This short homily is by the future Pope John Paul I; he gave it at the Good Friday Liturgy he celebrated as Patriarch of Venice in 1974. Short and well, pungent rather than sweet, it provides good material for meditation for us all. I can even imagine him thinking these same things at the moment he had to accept his election as Pope. And he too said his Fiat then.
During the reading of John’s deeply compassionate account, I have contemplated him together with you: full of sorrows, nailed in his hands and suspended; nailed in his feet and immobilized. There I was, facing him: I who cannot bear obstacles, I who shrug off every annoyance, I who am drowning in ease. And yet I profess to be his disciple. I have a beautiful crucifix hanging on the wall of my study; another crucifix at the end of the rosary that I carry in my pocket; I make the sign of the Cross I don’t know how many times a day; every day I celebrate the Mass, the sacrifice of the Cross represented on the altar. In spite of all this, I am so afraid of crosses.
Reflecting on crosses, I have made a distinction. There are some that do not make us tremble. For example: the pain that is heavy, but which you have the strength to bear. Competition, which exhausts you and leaves you breathless, which makes you thirsty and wears you out, but at the same time, stimulates you to overcome your opponent and reach the finish line in glory. These are very small crosses.
The cross is a beam fastened to a crossbeam. It is, therefore, the road blocked in front of me. I thought I would be able to go on and someone stops me, unjustly blocking all of my hopes. I cherished legitimate desires and I see them destroyed from beginning to end. I wanted to keep my feet on the ground and I find myself separated from the earth, lifted up and nailed where I really didn’t want to be. And without any glory; the same people who sympathize with me outwardly for propriety’s sake, deep down are laughing at me. This really is a cross, this wounds the depths of the heart, it twists the soul, and makes this cry rise spontaneously to the lips: This I really didn’t want, Lord! Let this cup pass from me, Lord! Transeat, Lord!
Jesus too experienced this; in the garden he felt prostrated, annihilated, sorrowful unto death. He too, said: “Father, if it is possible let this cup pass from me.” Afterward, however, he accepted it heroically. Afterward, he said: “let not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).
My brothers and sisters! Let us also try to say our Fiat and carry our daily cross. To us too, as to Christ, a little bit of strength will come from the Father. On our painful journey, there will also be some Simon of Cyrene to help us; a mother to suffer along with us and console us.
In any case, every cross is a passing thing; it is the road, not the goal. And no crosses without heaven in view. St. Peter wrote: “Rejoice in the measure that you share Christ’s sufferings. When he glory is revealed, you will rejoice exultantly” (1 Peter 4:13).
Impossible you say? But nothing is impossible for God — excuse me I mean Nancy Pelosi.
But how is it possible? An obscure procedural rule called “deem and pass.” The House can pass a series of amendments to a bill and by doing so, the bill itself is “deemed to have passed.” It has actually been used before for budge items. But now Madame Speaker wants to use it for one of the most massive and controversial bills in Congressional history.
Wny would Pelosi want do do such a thing? Here’s what she says.
It is one of three options that Pelosi said she is considering for a late-week House vote, but she added that she prefers it because it would politically protect lawmakers who are reluctant to publicly support the measure.
“It’s more insider and process-oriented than most people want to know,” the speaker said in a roundtable discussion with bloggers Monday. “But I like it,” she said, “because people don’t have to vote on the Senate bill.”
That’s right she wants members of Congress not to have to tell their constituents they voted for this bill. Nothing could illustrate better the sheer wanton madness the Democrats have now come to. They want this bill no matter what the American people want.
You may think you can hide folks, but November is coming fast.
Good old SNL! They have Obama’s smugness down pat.
Yet, at the same time they’re laughing at the health care debacle, they can’t or won’t admit what’s really at stake — which is human lives. The unborn, the old, the handicapped and the generally undesirable-because-unproductive are all in danger of death by government deathcare. Some joke.
Pausing to look at all the sights on our way to Jerusalem. . . Mainly about faith, the Church, film, writing, famous Christian authors, and anything else I'm interested in at the moment.
The photo above was taken at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome in March 2007.
Quote of the Month
"The history of the Catholic missions is by now a long road: at the beginning of that road is the Father of Mercy, who holds out his arms to all his children. All those who encounter the missionaries encounter the Father. And they also encounter the Son, the first missionary, who, obeying the Father, comes to earth, becomes flesh in human nature, is one of us, in solidarity with our misery (except for sin) and ends up dying for us in order to then return to heaven, carrying on his shoulders the human race his has won back.
Out of the same mold are the missionaries, who repeat, in some way, his journey. They too leave their fathers and families and depart to go among a foreign people. They too strip themselves of the refined culture they have acquired in their homelands; and of their native customs and habitat, of a hundred little comforts, in order to be in solidarity. With who? With a people who are on one hand naked and poor, and on the other rich in possibilities, which the missionaries intend to respect, value and elevate."
Albino Luciani (Pope John Paul I), to the people of his diocese of Vittorio Veneto, on his return from the diocesan missions in Africa in 1966
