Today's Mass

It's a beautiful Cathedral. Guitars do not belong here!

Mass today...with the "folk group"... ugh.

If I never hear the sound of a strumming guitar again, it will be too soon. And I don't mean just at Mass! It has reached the point that even guitar music in an appropriate setting evokes a negative response in me. In fact, a still photo of a guy holding a guitar makes me cringe!

And then there's that tambourine. The tambourine player isn't overpowering, thanks be to God, but still! Why is there a tambourine at all?!

And the violins. Oh dear. Now, I have been a violinist myself. I understand the difficulty of playing the instrument. That said, if you can't play the violin well, DO NOT PLAY IN PUBLIC. Especially at Mass. They are off-key and scratchy. The entrance song today featured an introduction by the violinists. They started off-key, and my daughter and I both winced. Things did not improve.

Then, the priest reverently intones, in chant modality, "Through Him, with Him, in Him..." etc., and instead of letting the people answer in the appropriate, simple, chant-mode, "Amen", the folk group jumps in with strumming guitars and a sung "Amen" that does not in any way, shape, or form match the priest's doxology.

I'd love for my daughter's fiance to become Catholic. I am not sure how to encourage that, but I do my best. One thing I will NOT do is take him to a novus ordo Mass with guitars strumming and tambourines jingling. That would be the kiss of death. No, I want him to know what the Catholic faith is really all about before he attends a Mass like that. Even then, I'm sure I would have to do some "repair" work. Even a reverently said Novus Ordo Mass (which our priest does accomplish) is destroyed by guitar music. That kind of music does not lead to reverent worship. In fact, I find it so distracting that I can barely focus on the prayers in my little red EF Mass booklet.

I'm really fed up with this.

Sigh.

Election Day

Well, it's been a while since I posted here. Life is busy, it seems. Time flies.

And now we arrive at election day. I am anxious, and yet at peace. God's will be done. I hate to think of Hillary as our next president; I think her election would usher in persecution of Christians, and especially faithful Catholics, the likes of which we are barely prepared to accept. But...God's will be done. Next year is the 100th anniversary of Fatima, after all. I'm expecting something big. It might be painful, too, at least in this world. But the payoff in Heaven will be spectacular.

If Trump wins, I think all that will happen is that the slide into the abyss will be slightly less rapid. This society is going down. We've already got one foot in the pit, and really, it doesn't seem like there are too many in our country who understand morality well enough to begin to pull us out of it. Even the well-intentioned, who want to do the right thing, have been so brain-washed and intimidated by the liberal left, that they are unsure whether their moral inclinations are correct, or whether they are simply "right for me".  Moral relativism is the order of the day, and is fast infiltrating (or, has already infiltrated?) the minds of those who still think there might be a right and wrong. There is a remnant, though, and this remnant will have to rebuild once the collapse is complete. So, know your faith! You might have to teach it to new converts.

I look forward to the end of today. There will still be questions about our future, but at least one question will be answered!

Ora and More Labora

I have recently placed two orders for linen, totaling 42 yards. That’s on top of the 5 yards or so I already have on hand. Two large orders for altar linens came in over the last week, and I can see I’m going to be very busy. Linen is time-consuming.

A past linen project, before I had
my big work table. 

On one hand, I wish I didn’t have these orders, and that I could spend more time praying. Having the work makes me a little anxious at times, and thoughts about the projects creep in while I am praying the Office. I stress over it too much.

On the other hand, I think I need the work. The desert fathers worked – braiding their ropes, making their mats…stuff like that. “Ora et labora,” after all. I do find that when I don’t have the work, I tend to waste more time doing frivolous things; I don’t necessarily spend more time in prayer or in spiritual reading. There is that saying, “if you want something done, ask a busy person.” Someone who is “busy” tends to organize their time and have fewer wasted minutes.

It’s about balance, of course. And trusting God. And abandoning oneself to Divine Providence.

Soon, I will be awash in linen. There are worse things!

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!

Inviting Them to the Wedding Banquet

A couple of weeks ago, the Sunday Gospel, in the Extraordinary Form, was from the 22^nd chapter of Matthew:

The kingdom of heaven is likened to a king, who made a marriage for his son.
And he sent his servants, to call them that were invited to the marriage; and they would not come.  Again he sent other servants, saying: Tell them that were invited, Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my beeves and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come ye to the marriage. But they neglected, and went their own ways, one to his farm, and another to his merchandise. And the rest laid hands on his servants, and having treated them contumeliously, put them to death.

But when the king had heard of it, he was angry, and sending his armies, he destroyed those murderers, and burnt their city.

Then he saith to his servants: “The marriage indeed is ready; but they that were invited were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways; and as many as you shall find, call to the marriage.”

And his servants going forth into the ways, gathered together all that they found, both bad and good: and the marriage was filled with guests. And the king went in to see the guests: and he saw there a man who had not on a wedding garment. And he saith to him: “Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment?” But he was silent.

Then the king said to the waiters: Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the exterior darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
 

For many are called, but few are chosen.

When I read this at Vigils, I was struck by a few thoughts that haven’t occurred to me before, related to my own life. First, I thought of the servants who were sent out “into the highways” to compel people to come to the wedding feast. I remember how often we were exhorted to do this in the Protestant Pentecostal church I once attended. But the other night, it occurred to me that I’ve also been out there calling people I know to come into  the heavenly banquet, and have been ignored, just like those servants; I have also been in that second group of servants, doing my best to convince the fallen-away Catholics I know to return to the fold. I haven’t been murdered for my trouble, like the servants in the Gospel – at least in a literal sense! But I have been attacked in some subtle ways by family members who resent my reminding them of their fallen-ness, and sometimes those subtle ways hurt quite a bit. But it is a small price to pay, if only someone will listen!

It has become more and more important to me to tell people the Truth of our Catholic faith, and yet, no one has responded to my pleas. It breaks my heart, especially when I think of those people burning in hell because they failed to heed a warning from me or some other servant.

And then there is that last bit about the man who entered the feast without a wedding garment. I think here of my friend who was all set to be received into the Church, but for the wrong reasons. He wanted to be Catholic because he and I were friends, and since I was Catholic, and had told him he should be, too, he wanted to comply. But he didn’t believe in the Real Presence, nor the perpetual virginity of Mary, nor the hierarchy of the Church, nor a few dozen other things.  So although he says he believes in Jesus, he really doesn’t – at least not in the Jesus who founded the one, holy, catholic, apostolic Church! Now, when I realized he did not believe the critical doctrines of the Church, I told him he could not become Catholic. He said he still wanted to; I told him he wanted to for the wrong reasons. And when I told him that he would stand before the local congregation and say “I believe and profess all that the Catholic Church believes, teaches, and professes”, he saw that he could not say that; and he dropped out of RCIA at that point. Well, thank goodness! Because in the end he’d have been receiving Holy Communion unworthily, and he would have eventually been “cast into the exterior darkness”!

Sometimes I feel like a complete failure at this whole evangelization thing. On the other hand, who knows which person might be influenced by something I have said to him or her? Just because I don’t see an immediate result doesn’t mean that my efforts will remain fruitless. I just keep on trying.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!

My Mom Makes an Appearance

The other night, I dreamed I was at Mass; Mass had just ended, and people were milling about and visiting. My daughter was with me, and we sat down to visit with Connie, an old friend of ours. I also saw my now-deceased friend Pam and her two girls (at a younger age), and went over to say hi to them. Pam looked better than I’d ever seen her, as if she had lost a lot of weight and grow in intellect (she was slightly retarded in this life). The girls were as I remember them from about age 7-8 (they are now around the same age as my 22-year-old daughter).

My mom, as I most like to remember her;
not the best quality photo, but you get the idea.

I went back to Connie and my daughter. Then, all of a sudden, my mom showed up. She had come to surprise me (Ha! I'll say, since she's been dead for 24 years!). She was radiant, healthy, smiling...my mom at her best. I hugged her, and introduced her to Connie. 

I forgot about the dream till the next morning when I was praying Lauds. I can't remember what triggered the memory...it was something in the psalms, I think. Anyway, it really hit me then that I had dreamed about my mom. She doesn't tend to show up in my dreams, and this was so real I could remember little details, like how it felt to hug her. In fact, thinking about it made me shed a few tears, because it was so wonderful to see her. I wondered if she was in Heaven, and I said a prayer to her for my daughter, her namesake.

But then I reminded myself that my mom was not Catholic. I didn’t become Catholic till some years after my mom died, and I didn't come to the knowledge about the necessity of the Church for salvation till a few years ago; but after I became Catholic, I knew about purgatory, and so always prayed for my mom as if she were in purgatory, awaiting her move to Heaven. In recent years, I have often wondered if she could possibly be in Heaven. I know that she could be, if it was God's will. I know she expressed a heartfelt belief in God before she died. I know I want her there! And I know I have prayed countless prayers for the repose of her soul. I guess that's as much as I can know. I keep praying for her, even though it looks like she couldn't really be in Heaven.

So, it was a bittersweet awakening from that dream. But the very next day, when I was napping, I heard a rap at the window. It was probably a bird, which happens frequently, but the sound permeated my dream as a knock, and in the dream, I somehow knew it was my mom. “Mom?” I called out. “Mom, what do you need?” That was it. I woke up enough to realize it was a dream, and dozed off again.

Thinking about it later, I wondered if perhaps my mom’s soul was in fact going to enter Heaven. I wondered if perhaps she was there in the dream as an impetus for me to have a Mass offered for her. And so I have done just that. The Mass is to be said today, Monday, Sept. 19, 2016. Will you add a prayer for the repose of her soul? Her name is Ruth Collins.

I dreamed about her again yesterday. That dream is fuzzier in my memory, but she was there.

This experience has given me hope! It is very saddening to think that your non-Catholic loved ones might not be in Heaven. These dreams, and the sense of my mom really being there, reminded me that God does have the final say in terms of souls entering His Presence in Heaven. There is always hope.

In addition, it was a nice consolation, somehow, to have my mom seem so close. We were very close when she was alive, and I was at her side during her illness (cancer), and at the moment of her death. I can’t say that I miss her, really; at least, I haven’t missed her in years, because her absence has just become a fact of life. I suppose the dreams have made me miss her again, a little bit. Mostly, I just want her to be in Heaven!

Sometimes I wish my mom were alive still; other times, I think I have become her. Ha!

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.

A Guilty Conscience

My husband’s sons are all married and have children (and they all live far away from us).  Son #1 is married to a woman who is a fallen-away Catholic who pretends to still be Catholic, though he himself appears to be a faithful Catholic. Son #2 is married to a woman who has never been Catholic, and he himself is a fallen-away Catholic. Son #3 is married to a fallen-away Catholic, and I don’t really know whether he is a faithful Catholic or not.

Recently, our daughter and the The Fiancé had dinner with Son #1 and his wife – I’ll call her Jane. During the course of the dinner visit, Jane took my daughter aside for a "confidential" conversation, during which she explained that she might not come to our daughter’s wedding because of me. She fears it would be "uncomfortable" because I (allegedly) think Jane is the prime example of a bad Catholic (or something like that), and she thinks I would manipulate any conversation to make it into an opportunity to berate Jane for not being a good Catholic (for the record, I have never done this, and have not seen my daughter-in-law in person for close to 10 years).

Jane told my daughter that she goes to Mass every Sunday, implying that this makes her a "good Catholic", I guess. She also said she hoped that this frank conversation about me wouldn't upset my daughter, who replied that it certainly did. My daughter also suggested that the only reason Jane thinks I would manipulate a conversation is because Jane herself does that all the time! Ha! My daughter is getting bolder and less willing to put up with that kind of nonsense. My daughter also told Jane that her wedding is HER day, and she certainly hoped that Jane and I would refrain from any kind of interaction that would result in a distraction from the purpose of the day.

Jane said she had hoped that their conversation would be kept just between the two of them, but my daughter said there was no reason I shouldn't know. Jane hoped I wouldn't send her a barrage of emails. Well…I don't think I've ever sent the woman an email that wasn't a response to something she sent me! 

I pray for Jane's re-conversion to the faith every day; I count her as one of my “most stubborn” cases. I care about the salvation of her soul, and I've told her so in the past. I'm taking her confession of discomfort as a sign that my prayers are having some effect. To me, it seems perfectly clear that Jane is uncomfortable because she knows I’m right, and she doesn’t want to admit it. She doesn’t want to admit that she has created God in her own image, just like so many other Protestants have done. Once you leave the Catholic Church, you leave true authority behind, and everyone suddenly becomes free to interpret Scripture in the way most pleasing to each individual.  God is what each individual creates Him to be.

Jane, quite simply, has a guilty conscience. I think she knows that her use of artificial contraception all her adult life was wrong; that omitting the required once-yearly sacrament of reconciliation is wrong; that sending one’s Catholic children to a Protestant school is wrong; that condoning and supporting her daughter’s outside-the-Church marriage is wrong. But she doesn’t want to ever admit these things, and I am a constant reminder – just by my very existence – that she has missed the mark.

The prayer I pray specifically for Jane, and for a few other stubborn souls, is the prayer to Our Lady of Victory; in part, it says, "...we pray, that their hearts being softened by the rays of divine grace, they may return to the unity of the true faith..."  

Now, if only this effect can be seen in the rest of the family!

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!

Wherever You Go, There You Are

From The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (which includes a couple of “Desert Mothers” as well):

Amma Theodora also said, ‘There was a monk, who, because of the great number of his temptations said, “I will go away from here.”

As he was putting on his sandals, he saw another man who was also putting on his sandals and this other monk said to him, “Is it on my account that you are going away? Because I go before you wherever you are going.”

It may seem like a pleasant proposition to live all alone, to not have to interact with others very often. I know it often seems so to me! But the truth is, no matter where you go, there YOU are. You can run away from others who trouble you, but your own soul, with all its sins and short-comings, will always be with you. And sometimes, accepting that person who is you – and striving to purify her – is harder than putting up with the faults of others.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.