I haven’t done any blogging for quite a while, due to working overtime on editing video, but this is too good not to share. A great little time waster called “Find Your Name’s best Anagram.” You go to the web site, enter a name or word and click on the button. The letters are re-arranged: instant anagram!
When you get tired of trying permutations of your own name, you can go on to the real fun: finding out the truth behind the names of famous people. Here’s some the gang on Mark Shea’s blog (me included) came up with:
Albert Einstein: TEN ELITE BRAINS
Sherlock Holmes: HEH! SMELLS CROOK
Arthur Conan Doyle: CARRY ON, HOUND TALE
Ralph Waldo Emerson: PERSON WHOM ALL READ
Dwight D. Eisenhower: NOW WRITE: HIGH DEEDS
George Washington: WAR ON: HE GETS GOING
Charles Dodgson (Lewis Carroll’s real name): SCHOLAR GODSEND
G. K. Chesterton: THE GENT ROCKS
William Jefferson Clinton: HE JILTS NICE WOMEN. IN FOR FALL
George W Bush: HE GREW BOGUS
Lyndon Baines Johnson: NO NINNY, SO HANDLES JOB
Lee Harvey Oswald: REVEALED: WHO SLAY (I came up with this one)
Osama bin Laden: A DAMN ALIEN S.O.B. (I came up with this one too)
Saddam Hussein: UN’S SAID HE’S MAD (also mine)
Saint Peter: NEAT PRIEST
Mark Twain: AM RANK WIT
Pope John Paul the Second: HAPPEN-SO: THE JOCUND POLE
Richard Dawkins: DISHRACK DARWIN
Harry Potter: TRY HERO PART (I came up with this one)
United States of America”: DINE OUT, TASTE A MAC, FRIES
“Great Britain”: BATTERING IRA
“Los Angeles, California”: SO IF ALL CLEAN AIR’S GONE
And of course:
Dan Brown: NOW BRAND!
I’m laughing so hard I can barely type this. You can join the fun here:
Update: around 11 p. m.
This one is priceless:
United States Supreme Court: SMUTTIER, UP-TO-DATE CENSURES
A couple more that I tried came up with great results:
George Walker Bush: BLUSH, WAR GEEK OGRE! That says it all, I guess.
President Obama: ENTOMB PARADISE
Pope John Paul the First: JESTFUL, HAPPIER PHOTON (a photon is the basic ‘unit’ of light).
While I was looking around for information about blogging bishops, I came across this gem on YouTube. Justin Cardinal Rigali, Archbishop of Philadelphia, who lived in the Vatican with Pope Paul VI, John Paul I and John Paul II, tells what it was like to work with them. He has a great story about John Paul I at 3:18 (I already knew this story from a print interview with the cardinal, but never knew it was on tape). Rather fitting to put this up, for it was just a year ago today, the feast of St. Peter and Paul, if I remember right, that I began putting up my posts about John Paul I.
I just recently finished translating a little gem by John Paul I for Humilitas, and want to post an excerpt here. A little explanation first. As the newly-appointed bishop of Vittorio Veneto, Albino Luciani gave this homily in 1959 as he began the informative phase of the diocesan process of canonization for Fra Claudio Granzotto, O.F.M., a Franciscan lay brother and gifted sculptor born near Treviso, who died at age 46 in 1947.
Fra Claudio and his cause were of particular interest to Luciani as a lover of art, who had also taught sacred art and art history in the seminary in Belluno. His homily shows his interest in the problems and dangers of art and the spirituality of an artist. But he didn’t live to see the completion of the process. Fra Claudio was finally beatified by Pope John Paul II, poet, playwright and lover of the arts (who wrote a “Letter to Artists”), on November 20, 1994.
This homily by John Paul I is a delightful companion piece to his “Letter to Goethe” in Illustrissimi. I found the whole part about the MGM lion wonderfully funny, and very typical of Luciani. Here is a sample of what, if he had lived, John Paul I might have been put in his own “Letter to Artists.”
I willingly agreed that the process should be begun because I hope and trust that Fra Claudio has a message to deliver. . . Fra Claudio was an artist! And he has something to say to the art world.
And first of all, he can help artists understand that art is subject to the moral law. Not all artists are convinced of this. At the movies I have observed more than once the logo of Metro Goldwyn Meyer: a lion comes out roaring; then there appears the writing: Ars gratia artis [art for art’s sake], then a second lion stretching out its claws and opening its jaws wide in a new roar, as though to say: “Art for art’s sake! We artists are independent and we will defend this independence like lions!” And they really seem like lions! For them, art is superior to moral laws: an artist, while he is making a work of art, is obedient to no one; outside, while he is not making art, perhaps he will observe the commandments, but while he is making art, he is independent, he is in a parentheses, which is closed off, outside and above moral laws! Therefore you have this kind of claim of the artist of saying: “Once I am an artist I am a godlike being, someone superior. I will not submit myself.” And it is difficult to persuade them: If you present yourself to them as a bishop, a priest, anyone who offers exhortations, they roar at you: “You are not an artist! You don’t understand anything! Don’t meddle here!”
Let Fra Claudio come! Frau Claudio can present himself to these people and say: “I am an artist! I studied six years at the Academy in Venice, I graduated with the highest marks, I received congratulations from the greatest professors of that time, I loved art. I refused to become a Benedictine because they did not guarantee that I would be able to continue to be an artist. I have looked on and caressed my masterpieces, like creatures of my own, quivering with life; what you feel I have felt too. But I ever dreamed that because of this I had the right to set myself apart from the law of God. Art yes, is an elevated thing, but not above everything. I compared my masterpieces with other things, and I said (these are his own words), ‘to serve one Mass is worth more than all the sculptures in this world.’ And while I was chiseling away at my Wildtian works [Adolfo Wildt was an Italian sculptor], I asked the Lord to be chiseled in turn. And I said: “O Lord, make of me your masterpiece!”
What a voice this will be for artists! The lion will answer the lions.
Fra Claudio could bring a second, more specific warning to those who work in the field of sacred art. Sacred art today, in fact, finds few people who will understand it and treat it as they should: when they enter a church, these blessed artists find it difficult to enter with their heads bowed, and instead they think like this: “We are artists, therefore masters.” And they do not understand that in church they are guests, never masters. When they entered to work for the churches, Raphael and Michelangelo graciously asked the advice of theologians, they even beat their breasts, out of compunction. It seems that this was done in vain for certain artists, who are not yet persuaded that in order to make a work sacred, you must first feel it and study it as sacred! To the repeated admonitions of the ecclesiastical authorities, they continue to answer: “You are not an artist, you don’t understand!” Who knows what will happen with Frau Claudio? What if he presents himself to them as an artist and as a saint at the same time? As one who knows these things, who has very recently lived them?
Eight hours he sometimes spent in church praying, eight hours at a time! When they saw him kneeling, peasants and pious people, they left the church on tiptoe, saying, “We don’t want to disturb a prayer so filled with the Lord!”
Frau Claudio first remained in contemplation, he first heated his heart in the furnace of divine love, then, when he was well heated and had truly contemplated, only the did he set his hand to his masterpiece , and when his masterpiece was finished, he returned to contemplate and tried to bring what he had sculpted to life again.
It is a powerful teaching, and one that we should truly hope becomes a teaching for artists.
To read more of John Paul I’s writings in Humilitas, you can write to the Missionary Servants of John Paul I. You can find out more about them and their missionary work for the poor in Haiti, along with their address here.
I have been very remiss in not posting anything yet about the Pope’s visit to the U.S. And he arrives in New York tomorrow! But I have been tremendously busy, what with the documentary and other work; too busy to even think about getting tickets (even if there had been any left) for the Pope’s Yankee Stadium Mass. But I do hope to participate by going to Fifth Avenue to watch his motorcade on Saturday. And I have been following everything closely on TV.
This is the third U.S. papal visit I will have participated in personally, and I can’t say that I’m blase about it yet. The first was in 1979, during John Paul II’s first U.S. visit, when he actually came to within 50 miles of our Iowa home (now that’s service for you!). My whole family and I drove to Living History Farms to celebrate Mass with him. Right after we arrived, and were making our way across the field, I tripped in a depression in the ground and sprained my ankle. But I soon forgot about the pain, as well as hunger and thirst. It was terribly windy and threatening rain, but as soon as the Pope’s helicopter arrived, the sun came out, and the hours flew by. The Pope spoke about the land and its people, as we celebrated the Mass for the Feast of St. Francis, and he stood outlined against a clear blue sky. We were hoarse with singing and cheering. I took my cassette recorder with me and taped the whole thing — there were no digital cameras, DVD’s or VCR’s back then. The tape’s almost inaudible, but I still treasure it.
Then in 1995, at the beginning of my second year as a grad student at Fordham, I was was one of the volunteer ushers at John Paul’s Mass in Central Park, recruited from the area Catholic colleges and universities. We spent the night (or part of it) bunking on the floor at Fordham’s Manhattan campus near Columbus circle, got up somewhere around 3 a.m., walked all the way up Eighth Avenue to the entrance to the Mass site (must have been 20 blocks), and our time from 4:30 on shivering until people began to stream in around 5:30 — and the Mass was still hours away! We directed people to their places and handed out programs. Of course we got some of the best seats when our Pope arrived. The weather remained chilly, but we barely noticed it as we prayed, sang and cheered. I fell asleep in the subway going home.
Not to mention the times that I have seen the Pope in Rome; the first unforgettable one when I was with the family of the late John Paul I as his successor led the Mass for the anniversary of his death at St. Peter’s Basilica on September 28, 1985, the year that I began research on my book about him (which I still hope someday to publish). And then later, I attended the Mass the Pope celebrated opening the 1985 Synod of Bishops. Later that same trip, I caught a photo of John Paul II traveling through the Spanish Square on his way (I think) to a parish visit. After I while, even though I had never spoken to him, I began to feel he might recognize me if he saw me!
Then there was our unforgettable trip to Rome last February, when I spoke at the conference on St. Elizabeth. My mother, two sisters, my brother, and his wife and daughter all came with me. We went to Pope Benedict’s Wednesday general audience. For everyone but me, it was their first trip to the Vatican. We waited for almost two hours in the Basilica, before the Pope appeared with the bishops walking around the high altar with Bernini’s beautiful baldacchino. We found the audience unforgettable, but all too short; the crowd had to be divided into two because of the huge number of pilgrims expected. The Pope spent only about 15 minutes with us in St. Peter’s and the other 45 or so giving his main address in the Paul VI audience hall. This time, I managed to catch some of it on videotape.
The number of pilgrims is a wonderful sign of how the renewal of the Church is continuing under Pope Benedict. Everyone was wondering what he would be like during his first New York visit. I can’t really say what I expected, but so far he has exceeded all of my hopes in so many ways. His theme for the visit is “Christ our Hope” and he has really brought hope. Not the “happy clappy” kind as they say. Nothing cheap or platitudinous. He has spoken of some of the most sorrowful and even shameful things in our recent history: 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, the sex abuse scandal. He has tried to help us see how these troubles can be healed, and how Christian hope can help us. His theological teachings are wonderfully clear. And his manner really surprised me.
I must admit that when Cardinal Ratzinger was first elected Pope I knew relatively little about him. I knew that he was a prolific writer in theology, but I hadn’t read any of his books. I knew was disliked by most of the “liberal” contingent in the Church, as naturally anyone truly orthodox usually was. But some quotes from him (taken out of context, I’m sure), suggested someone with a stern attitude, and a dim view of the modern world. When he was elected Pope, three years ago, this week, I was at work. As we all paused to listen to the radio, and heard the announcement of his election and his first blessing from the balcony at St. Peter’s, I remember commenting to my boss, “he’s said to be very stern,” and he replied; “Good, he’ll get everyone in line; that’s what the Church needs.”
Reading Benedict’s book Jesus of Nazareth last year, really opened my eyes to the Pope’s scholarship, his persuasive style of argumentation, and his great love for Christ. But listening to him during all his speeches showed me something else: a gentle, thoughtful, compassionate man of God. True, he doesn’t have John Paul II’s dramatic style and gestures, or his easy, joking rapport with the crowd. He’s thinking along many of the same lines as John Paul — who he quotes frequently — but there is a difference. John Paul was forceful; when he scolded the flock, as he did at times, you knew you had been scolded. When Benedict speaks, he voice is very gentle, but still clear; he is content to to let his ideas and words speak for themselves.
And one gesture today has been worth more than anything else: he met quietly, unannounced, with some victims of priest sexual abuse from the Boston archdiocese. He let them speak and he listened. Just listened for the most part, apologized for the harm that had been done. The gratitude shown by the victims and the sense of healing are overwhelming. He is the Pope of Hope, indeed.
Welcome to New York, Pope Benedict. Ad multos annos!
P. S. I’ll take the video camera with me, and if all goes well, I’ll have something to post on YouTube. I’ll link to it here.
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
