Defend us in battle

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The Black Mass is a Seduction. Don’t be Seduced.

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I get that everyone is interested in the satanic black mass that is scheduled to happen next month in Oklahoma City.

Satan is real. I believe that. There is a malicious presence which attacks and tempts us to do horrific things, including hate the God Who made us in His own image.

The “black mass” is being advertised as a mockery of the real mass. The satanists claim that they have a consecrated Host that they are going to defile. They evidently even have a real live sex offender to do the honors.

Believe me, I “get” the symmetry of a sex offender, an assaulter and degrader of other humans and of the life force itself, “presiding” over a mockery of the mass in order to defile the Lord of all Life.

I’m there. I get it. I get it in aces and spades.

However, does anyone think that there is something new about defiling the Host? Have we all forgotten the atheist numbskulls who skulked their way into Catholic Churches to obtain consecrated Hosts in order to video themselves urinating on the hosts, flushing them down the toliet, driving nails into them and taking them to atheist conventions to be autographed by their atheist heroes? For a while there, YouTube was littered with the videos these folks made of themselves as they “performed” their act.

I grant you that this is not a deliberate calling up of Satan himself, but it was certainly a desecration.

As far as I’m concerned, every rape, every abortion, every act of egg harvesting, every time someone is subjected to medical murder by euthanasia, is a type of black mass. We are made in God’s image and this defilement of the humanity of human persons is also a defilement of Him.

Black masses, from what little bit I know about them, are a form of worship of the author of this destruction of human worth and value. These people don’t just do Satan’s work unaware like the atheist poseur videoing him or herself as they defile a consecrated Host in their bathroom, or the abortionist who thinks he or she is just performing a medical procedure, or even the rapist, who very well knows that what he is doing is evil to the core but somehow or other doesn’t think this evil defiles and damns him.

Nope. Your basic satanist calls out Satan on purpose, kneels down before him and then offers up the living Christ in a consecrated host for his mockery and defilement.

The real mass re-enacts Christ’s sacrifice at Calvary for our healing. Heaven touches earth in a real mass.

Satan’s mass tries to crucify Him again for real, in order to seduce us into wallowing in the pit of despair and damnation that Jesus lifts us out of. It is an attempt to bring hell out of the shadows and down off the television screens and catapult Satan without the disguises, Satan as himself, into our daily lives. This is a mirror image of heaven touching earth as it does in the real mass.

All this black smoke and slimy terror seduces a lot of people. It seduces them in much the same way that pornography and illicit drugs seduce, by rewarding at first with voyeuristic titillation.

My message to you is simple. Don’t be seduced.

Don’t be seduced by petty voyeurism and actually go near this slimy pit of defilement.

And don’t be seduced into feasting your prurient fantasies on the whole situation.

This is not a movie. There won’t be spinning heads and levitating beds.

This is a sex offender worshipping the malicious presence that enjoys sexual violence because of the degradation and pain it unleashes. This is an unrepentant sex offender worshipping at the only altar where his actions will be applauded. This is worship of death, pain, suffering and human destruction by defiling the Lord of Life and bending the knee to the author of death.

The symmetry is exquisite, in the same way that venom, dripping off a fang is exquisite. It is ugly as hate, revolting as a charnel house and black as annihilation.

Do not be seduced by this. Do not focus on it or give it your attention. Focus instead on the true meaning of the Eucharist in which we all are welcome to touch Him and be healed.

Pray to St Michael. Pray your Rosary. Go to mass.

Think on Christ and His sacrifice, and the salvation He offers. Bask in the light that shines in the darkness and do not let yourself be seduced by evil.

Also, don’t be afraid. Satan has already lost. He has been cast out of heaven. On Calvary, the lies he used to chain us to our destruction were broken forever. This black mass is an expression of hate directed at God through us. Its mockery is the spite of a loser who has already lost.

The fact that it is happening is, more than anything else, the culmination of all the little black masses we have allowed for decades in our society, each one pulling the door a bit wider to let the blackness through

We’ve been calling evil good and good evil at least since the Final Solution. We claim that wanton killing is a “right” bestowed on the killer in the name of “compassion.” Rape, which is a direct attack on the life force and on Our Lady who represents that life force, has been excused, promoted and used as entertainment since the curse of the Fall.

For decades now, sophisticated Christians have denied Satan’s existence. I’ve had more than one member of the clergy tut-tut at me because I say that Satan is real and active in our world today. Now, after decades of working through us to do his harm, Satan is pulling off the mask and coming out as himself.

Do not be seduced into thinking this is a side show or a form of entertainment. Do not be seduced into focusing on the evil of this mass instead of the great light that shines on us from Calvary.

Scriptures tell us in 2 Timothy, For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. 

Trust that spirit of power to uphold you, give free rein to the spirit of love and exercise your God-given spirit of self-discipline.

Instead of running in circles and giving Satan your attention and thought, do these things:

1. Go to confession. I mean that. GO TO CONFESSION. Treat this time as a little Lent and get yourself cleaned up.

2. Forgive your grudges. Again, I mean that. Forgive anyone you’re holding a grudge against, and that includes your ex-spouse and the guy who fired you. Do not give the devil a toehold in your heart by clinging to bad feelings about other people.

3. Pray the Rosary, the St Michael prayer and the Divine Mercy Chaplet.

4. Show up for those processions Archbishop Coakley has announced. Be there and participate. Show solidarity with our Church and Our Lord.

5. Go to the Holy Hour Archbishop Coakley also announced.

6. If you do not live in Oklahoma, join us spiritually by going to Confession and Adoration and praying the St Michael Chaplet.

7. Read the Bible. Every day.

8. Go to mass. If Satan thinks so highly of the Eucharist that he wants to defile it this way, it must be important. You are cheating yourself if you don’t partake of it.

9. Never forget: This black mass, with its mockery and sacrilege, is a public acknowledgment and a testimony of how life-saving and important the real mass and Eucharist really are.

You have before you life and death.

Choose life.

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Archbishop Coakley Calls for Prayer, Procession and Benediction in Response to Black Mass

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My religious leader, Archbishop Paul Coakley has called for a season of “prayer, procession and benediction” due to the scheduled black mass here in Oklahoma.

Self-identified satanists have held a black mass in the Oklahoma City Civic Center for the past several years in a row. Last year, no one — zero — turned out for their little show. Hopefully, Okies will continue with this no-response this year.

Archbishop Coakley has called for Oklahoma 250,000 Catholics to join together in prayer, processions and attendance at Eucharistic Adoration in response to this black mass.

I am sure that your local parish will have events. Archbishop Coakley invites all of us to join him for prayer and a holy hour on September 9, at 3pm at St Francis of Assisi Church at 1901 NW 18th. That is the day of the satanic mass.

For my part, I would encourage Okies to participate in all these events. I sincerely hope that St Francis overflows that day.

There are also a few things I would ask you not to do:

1. Don’t obsess over this. Satan is alive and well and walking our world on two feet. If you doubt that, just watch the news. A black mass is just him, taking off the clown face and coming out.

2. Don’t engage with the satanists. Don’t talk to them or go around them. Stay away.

3. Ditto for the black mass. This is not entertainment. It is evil. Stay away from it. Do not go down there.

4. Do not make it the center of your thoughts or your activities. Keep your thoughts Christ-focused.

5. Pray and trust Christ. You cannot fight Satan, so don’t try. Let God do your fighting for you.

One thing we need to remember: The reason everyone from, atheists to satanists, attacks the Catholic Church is simple. The Catholic Church teaches the whole truth of Christ. Trying to make a mockery of the mass is a back-handed acknowledgement that the mass is real, the Eucharist is the presence of Christ. Satan hates Jesus. He also hates us. Mocking the mass is just the venomous spite of the loser in the great cosmic war.

Here is Archbishop Coakley’s letter:

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God Uses Us in the Broken Places. All We Have to Do Is Let Him.

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Catholic Patheosi Sisters in Christ. Lisa Hendey, Kathy Schiffer, Margaret Rose Realy. I’m the one in front, sitting down.

 

Where do I start?

Last week was the best. I’m still a wee bit tired from it, still absorbing and processing it. Where do I begin to tell you about it? I guess I’ll begin with the high point.

The high point wasn’t spending time with my Catholic Patheosi sisters in Christ, although I can tell you that was a blessing all in itself. The high point wasn’t meeting other Catholic writer/publishers/artists from all over the country, although again, that was an immersion in generous and loving like-mindedness that this outlier in the Oklahoma wilderness has never experienced before.

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Margaret Rose Realy, being interviewed by EWTN.

The high point, the Everest, of this entire week was the Thursday mass.

I almost didn’t go.

It had been such a full day. I “pitched” a book to an editor, presented an hour-long presentation and participated in a panel discussion. Between lunch and the panel discussion, I went to my room to take off my blazer and sat down in a chair.

Just for a moment.

I woke up an hour and half later. I had to scoot to get to the panel discussion in time and my neck was in permanent crick from sleeping pretzel-sytle in that chair.

Soooo, after the panel, I thought I’d just go up to my room, put on something comfy, order up room service and relax. No reason, I decided, to go to mass.

I got as far as the elevators, and in that hotel, the distance between our conference rooms and the elevators is a good hoof. I punched the up button. Then, while I was waiting for the door to open, I turned around and hoofed it back to the conference rooms.

I didn’t make a decision to go to mass. I just automatic-piloted my way down the hall, over the connector tunnel and then clomped down the stairs.

Father Frank Pavone, who was the celebrant, was already processing in when I slid into the last vacant seat on the back row between a couple of nuns and an elderly gentleman. I sometimes have mass troubles, and I braced myself, as tired as I was, for major mass troubles that day.

My mass troubles have been hitting me hard the past few months. What happens is that I sit in mass and am overwhelmed by a pounding sense that I am too unworthy to be in that room. It can, and sometimes does, reduce me to tears. It can and sometimes does, drive me away from mass. There are days when I get up and leave, mid-mass.

I’ve learned that if I can hang on and force myself to go forward and accept the Host, Jesus will heal me. When my mass trouble comes on me hard, I am like the woman with the hemorrhage who touched the hem of His garment and was healed, over and over, mass after mass, week after week.

But getting there, making it through mass without running away and then progressing up to the front of that line, many times making a humiliating spectacle of myself because tears keep leaking out of my eyes and dripping down my cheeks, can be an act of endurance, and, since I’ve learned that the Host heals, trust.

I’m like that woman from long ago, thinking If I can just touch the hem of His garment; if I can only touch Him; I will be healed. 

I slipped into that room, sat on that chair at the very back, and, while I didn’t think it in words, the thought was there: I hope I can get through this. There was safety in that door, a few steps away. I could leave if I had to, before anyone was the wiser.

But, after months of this on-going battle with the devil every time I go to mass, this time was different. There were no hants rising from the swamps of memory, no feeling of unworthiness. It was just me; solid and whole, standing in a roomful of other Jesus lovers, participating in the sweet miracle of heaven touching earth in bread and wine.

I have memories of such a solid sense of self as I felt then, but I have to go far back to find them.

Father Pavone brought a gift to us at that mass. He had what I think he called a “First class relic” of St John Paul II. I’m not up on my relic rules, but I think that’s what he said. It was a small spot of blood on a postage-stamp sized bit of cloth. The blood came from St John Paul’s body the day he died.

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Kathy Schiffer and Gary Zimak.

Father Pavone took the time — and it was quite a bit of time — to stand at the front of the room and give each of us an opportunity to venerate this relic. It worked out that I was the last person in the last line, the last one to do so.

I brought home a lot of work to do. I now have two books to write instead of just one, and I have a real hope that they both will be published. I’m not excited. I am … sure.

I am sure that this is what I’m supposed to be doing, and that Our Lord has both me and this work in the palm of His hand. This morning, while I was praying my Rosary, I felt St John Paul, sort of coaching me about what I should do. It neither surprises nor awes me that he came home with me from that mass.

That is the order of things. The spiritual world is as real and reliable as our physical world we inhabit in this life. An ice cube will melt in a glass of warm water. Always. And God comes to those who love Him. Always.

Sometimes, in fact, quite often, He sends His helpers by. My fellow Catholic Patheosi Kathy Schiffer, Margaret Rose Realy and Lisa Hendey are just such helpers. So, is St John Paul II.

I’m telling you this intensely personal story for one reason. I want the people who are reading this post — and I trust that the Lord will send the right ones by — to know that, to paraphrase St Paul, nothing, not the things we do, not the things done to us, can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.

God uses us in the broken places. All we have to do is let Him.

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The panel I almost slept through. Gary Zimak, Kathy Schiffer, me, Margaret Rose Realy.

 

The Pope is Catholic. Catholic Haters Hate That About Him.

Following Jesus without deviating will get you smeared every time.

I think it’s a rule of some sort, written by Satan a couple of thousand years ago.

It even happened to Jesus Himself when He walked this earth.

So … if somebody calls you names for following Him, say thank you. It’s always nice when someone notices your fidelity to Christ and pays it the ultimate compliment.

Pope Francis, who has been following right down the line on this Jesus thing, has drawn the usual verbal lightning down his own head by doing it. Just this morning, I read an article calling him, once again, a Communist for speaking out on behalf of the poor.

I believe this particular article accused him of “following Lenin” in response to the Holy Father’s linkage of economics and war. Because, you know, war has nothing to do with economics. By this logic President Dwight Eisenhower followed Lenin, too.

Puleez.

“Following Lenin????”

I wonder if the author of that post is following Lenin’s advice. I’m referring here to the Lenin who wrote “A lie, told often enough, becomes the truth.” I also wonder if the author is acquainted with the bloodthirsty things that Mr Lenin did.

Pope Francis, “following Lenin????”

That one goes beyond pigs flying in tight formation and heads on out past hens apeckin’ on a hot griddle to jump the hate-blog shark. It doesn’t even rise to the level of defamation and slander. It’s just … hateful wing nutism that turns out to be accidental comedy.

At the other end of the wing nut comedian scale, we have a writer over at Salon who wastes a lot of band-width on her angst at learning that Pope Francis is Catholic. You know: pro life, pro traditional marriage and family; that kind of Catholic.

This author goes, alongside her right-wing-nut buddies, right past common sense and lands splat in a big barrel of mud. Instead of saying that the Vicar of Christ is in cahoots with Lenin, she informs us — with rageful venom that almost leaps through the screen and scorches the reader — that the pope is … ummmm … you know … a bigot, sexist, oppressor who supports pedophilia.

Nice shot, that last. And one that’s beginning to weary. I’ve been and will continue to be as outspoken as anybody about the failure of bishops to protect children from predatory priests. But there are pedophile protectors in just about every nook and cranny of this world of ours. We actually help victimize kids more by using this issue as a club to beat the Church with and ignoring everyone else.

In fact, I’m beginning to come to the conclusion that at least some of this outrage is just Catholic hating. The reason? I’ll give you two: Woody Allen and Roman Polanski. You need another reason? Go read Coreyography. Try the defense in trendy circles of egg harvesters who prey on young girls barely out of their teens. Or, consider the easy way the media pushed the baby-bodies-in-the-septic tank hoax. I could go on, but the examples rapidly get so ugly that I don’t want to talk about them.

Following Jesus will get you smeared. That’s a fact and it always has been a fact.

Pope Francis is getting his share of politically-motivated, wing-nut smear jobs. In fact, he’s been on the receiving end of a regular dose of it ever since we first heard “Habemus Papam.”

What these folks want, of course, is for the pope to re-write the Gospels to fit their politics. They want the Holy Father to affirm them in their sins and stop making trouble with this Gospel of Christ stuff. They’ve managed to buy and bully a lot of other religious leaders into doing exactly that.

One side gives us a Caspar Milquetoast Jesus who high-fives porn, prostitution, abortion, euthanasia and the destruction of the family. The other side gives us a sociopath Django Jesus who just loves torture, corporatism and endless war. They’re both liars, you know. Just like the one who sent them. Their way is the wide way that leads to death.

When the Holy Father goes off their political reservation and flat-out says that sin is sin, even when it contradicts the “moral” teachings of right-and-left-wing-nut politicos, he’s in for it. His punishment is to be labeled a Communist-Lenin-following-bigot-sexist-oppressor-who-supports-pedophilia.

My advice to Public Catholic readers is don’t give it a thought. If you know someone stupid enough to buy this load of guano, you might mention to them that believing this stuff is kind of like a reverse intelligence test. If you believe it, you flunk the test. Other than that, just stay the course, stand for Christ and trust Him to get you and all the rest of us through these days in which we live.

We have eternal life and the joy of walking with Jesus. We can partake of the Real Presence any time we go to mass. We are free of the yokes of anguish, despair and bitterness. All we have to do is take them off, lay them down and live life abundantly.

Trust God, do your part, say a prayer for the nuts who are being nutty in such ugly and, yes, laughable ways. Then, go live your life for Jesus.

And, oh yes, when someone calls you a name for following Christ, do what Jesus told you to do: Rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven.

For 2,000 Years, Catholics have Risked Their Lives Just to be at Mass

I have nothing to add to this video. Watch it and be blessed.

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Archbishop Carlson’s Deposition Reveals a Painful Truth: He’s Just Like Us

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It’s a bitter pill for Catholics, watching the videos of Archbishop Carlson’s testimony.

I understand and share the emotions it raises.

But we do not serve ourselves or our Church by pretending that it ain’t so. We’ve got to face this because it is reality. It doesn’t change in any way the simple fact that Jesus said “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

What it changes is the blind notion that many Catholics have — that we all want to have — that our religious leaders are sinless Christ figures themselves.

They’re just people, just like us. They are conduits of the graces of the sacraments. God can and does reach through them and into us when we go to them for support and help in our troubles.

But the miracle in that is all on God, not on them. They don’t create the miracle, they don’t control the grace. I know from personal experience that God can reach out and touch anyone, anytime. I believe that all that’s needed on our parts is a willing heart. All we have to do to receive God’s healing grace is say yes to it.

Why, then, a priesthood? If God can reach directly into us Himself then why do we need priests who are conduits of grace?

Because the priesthood is God’s instrument for bestowing this grace in an understandable, predictable and accessible way. I think that the emotionalism that is sometimes exhibited in some churches is an attempt to re-create that first transforming moment of grace when they originally said yes. It is an attempt to touch God and feel it again by using our own emotions to elevate ourselves to that level.

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The Eucharist gives us that healing moment of grace, that experience of touching God, of feeling Christ, without any effort on our part. All we have to do is say yes and partake. It is the same with confession. Confession bestows healing grace. So much so that there have been times, including long periods when I was feeling especially challenged, that I went to confession every week, even though my sins were not so grave, because I needed that encounter with Christ, that healing grace that confession gives.

Sacramental confession strengthens us in an almost unfelt way. The more often we go to confession, the stronger we are in resisting evil. In fact, my experience has been that if I confess something on a regular basis, I stop wanting to do it. It takes a bit of time, but that’s what happens.

These graces, as well as the graces of the other sacraments, flow through the priest in a way that is simple for those of us who receive it. We don’t have to understand theology. We don’t have to work ourselves into an emotional high. All we have to do is say yes and accept the grace that is freely given to us.

The crowning moment of grace is always the Eucharist, which is direct contact with Christ. So far as I’m concerned — and I’m not a theologian, so this applies only to me and my understanding — the Church is the Eucharist. And we are the eucharist. Because the Eucharist is Christ. The priesthood exists to bestow grace. Priests are conduits of grace, and it does not matter what kind of hooligan they are personally, the graces of the sacraments flow through them to us, regardless.

Which brings me back to Archbishop Carlson. I wouldn’t call him a hooligan. In fact, I’m not sure how to label him. I don’t want to label him and his faults. It is enough for me that this is the situation in which we find ourselves, him and us. Because at this point, that’s what it’s about: Him and us.

Not, Jesus and us, or even the Church and us. But poor, messed up Archbishop Carlson and us. We don’t have to decide what to do about Archbishop Carlson. What we are tasked with is determining how we are going to relate to our dear Church in the light of the obvious fact that our leaders are ordinary people.

They can be cowards. Just like us.

They can be craven. Just like us.

They can lie, cheat, steal and run away when they get in trouble. Just like us.

They can gossip and betray confidences, hold grudges and be spiteful. Just like us.

They are not Christ.

What they are is men who have consented to be the conduits of grace to Christ’s Church, which is us. There is a moment when heaven comes to earth and the Eucharist becomes His Body, His blood, in which the divine flows through them.

The fact that a few of them become callous about this and begin to devalue it and even start thinking that it is all about them and not Jesus, does not change the impact it has on us. The Eucharist is still real, even if the priest is a messed-up welter of confusion and sin.

Archbishop Carlson reveals himself to be a lawyered-up citizen who ducks and covers under oath in an act of self defense. I have no idea why he didn’t do the obvious thing and exercise his right to take the Fifth Amendment. It would have been far less damaging to his credibility than this performance.

You can find the full text of his deposition here. Many of the salient comments are highlighted to make them easy to find.

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There really isn’t any point in trying to find an “out” for Archbishop Carlson in this. The deposition speaks for itself. Besides, it’s not our job to judge Archbishop Carlson. Our job is the much tougher one of working out how to be a faithful Catholic in a world of fallen leaders, including our leaders in the Church.

How do we follow these men when they are so nothing special as this deposition reveals them to be? Not, mind you, worse than us. Most of us would duck and cover in a deposition like this one, just like the Archbishop. Any of us who have brains would get the best legal counsel we could and do exactly what that attorney told us to do.

Archbishop Carlson doesn’t reveal himself to be a fiend in this deposition. He reveals himself to be no better than the rest of us.

Which brings us back to the task that faces us. We are fallen people, served by a priesthood that is composed entirely of fallen people, living in a fallen world.

Yet we serve a risen Savior, Who is God Incarnate. We are called to be “perfect as your Father in Heaven is perfect.”

But we can’t do it. We. Can. Not. Do. It. We don’t get through a single day without at least one and usually many sins of one sort or another.

We want heroes who will give us the illusion of the possibility of human perfection. But human perfection is always just that; an illusion.

To put it bluntly, we are all — priest and parishioner alike — down here in the pits together. As Jesus said, “There is none good except God.”

So how do we solve this conundrum of answering a call to be “perfect” while we are certain that there is “none good” among humankind?

We solve it by getting up every morning and giving our day to Jesus and His Mother. We solve it by availing ourselves of the certain graces of the sacraments. We solve it by forgiving each other and sustaining one another in our weakness.

How does this apply to the Archbishop Carlsons in our clerical leadership? More to the point, how does it apply to us and our response to the Archbishop Carlsons in our leadership?

My answer — and this is just me, talking about me — is that we need to cherish these men and help them as we can. At the same time, we need to stop pretending that they are anything other than fallen human beings. When they stand behind that altar and lift up the host, they are conduits of God’s grace. When they come down from behind the altar and scald us with a fit of rage or lie in a deposition, they are just people, wallowing around in the pit of failed good intentions along with the rest of us.

This is difficult for Catholics. It’s difficult for me. I am still working out how to deal with wounds inflicted by clergy. Some days I don’t do so well with it. Protestants can just dismiss their clergy as fallen people and be done with it. But Catholics are part of a hierarchical Church whose entire governance is built on the administration of these fallen men.

How do we, as Catholics, remain faithful when we see by their actions that we must be judicious about how and when we follow our clergy?

This is a tough one. It’s not always or even mostly about big public dilemmas like Archbishop Carlson’s dipping and dodging deposition. It is usually more personal, and because of that, far more damaging to us as Christians and Catholics.

How do we, say, disregard things a priest or spiritual director says to us in a fit of rage? How do we decide what to believe and what not to believe about the things they say to us? How do we overcome the sense of betrayal when a priest gossips about our deepest hurts? These are more the kinds of things that most Catholics must overcome in their walk of faith. The big public falls from grace seem easy to me compared to those much deeper personal dilemmas. How do we live together as Catholics in this fallen world?

These are hard questions with no easy answers. I’m going to leave it open for discussion and see what the rest of you think. In the meantime, take a look at Archbishop Carlson’s deposition. It’s clearly not a case of dementia or anything like it. He’s dipping and dodging and doing it quite well. Just like us.

Satanic Statues in Okieland and Black Masses at Harvard, Oh My!!

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So it turns out that those pesky Satanists who want to decorate my state capitol lawn with what is one ugly bit of Satanic statuary also have their eyes set on higher ed.

The Satanic Temple evidently plans to hold a black mass at the Harvard Extension Cultural Studies Club. That’s Harvard, as in the hugely expensive university where so many of the poobahs that run this country for their own benefit get their tickets to power punched.

I chose to ignore this story when it first surfaced because I had no idea if it was true, and I had zero time for tracking it down. But Elizabeth Scalia, aka, The Anchoress, who is easily as busy as I am, made the time to do just that.

It turns out that yes indeed, Harvard is playing host to the black mass folks, and at least one of them is claiming that they’ve managed to procure a consecrated host to use in their alternative culture extravaganza. Others of them aren’t so sure they have a host, and after thinking it over (and getting flak from The Anchoress) they’ve announced that, even though they have — or don’t have, depending on who’s doing the talking — a consecrated host, they won’t be using it (if they do have it) at their shindig.

Of course, Satan is the father of lies, and these are his disciples, so who knows if they have a consecrated host or not? Who knows if they’ll use it?

In an interview on Mobile Movement, the leader of this hardy band of the damned first says that they do, in fact, worship Satan. Then, he goes off on a riff about literary constructs, referencing Milton and Anatole France. Since, as I said earlier, Satan is the father of lies, I don’t think it matters all that much what this guy says. Believe it or don’t, as it suits you. But, if you’re smart, don’t bet anything valuable on it.

Deacon Greg Kandra reminds us that Harvard was once a Christian university, that it was, in fact, founded on Christian principles. But that, as they say, was then. This is now.

Academic pretensions aside, Harvard today is the premiere ticket-puncher for the power elite of this country. Go to Harvard, rule the unwashed masses. There’s nothing, but absolutely nothing, Christian about that.

So, it doesn’t surprise that in addition to worshipping power and mammon, they’re taking the mask off that deal and putting the guy behind the mask right out there in public where we can all see him.

Not to be limited to ugly art and profaning the mass, the followers of the dark lord are also getting into politics. According to their Facebook Page, The Satanic Temple is running an Adopt a Highway campaign, and plans to hold a tongue-in-cheek rally in support of Florida Governor Rick Scott, an honor which I doubt the good governor really wants.

What do I advocate in response to Harvard’s foray into cultural experimentation by way of satan worship and talk of maybe defiling what might be a consecrated host that is the Real Presence of Christ the Lord?

Just this: Don’t send your kids to Harvard. And write your senators and representatives about taking a good long look at all those government grants that get funneled into that one school.

We need to do this anyway, you know. Harvard and its little troupe of elite schools are not healthy for this country. They create a 1% that is disconnected from and hostile to the rest of us. They are, in many ways, predatory. It would be much better for this country if we offered some of those grants to other institutions, including non-academic organizations.

The only other thought I have is to pray for these satanists. Not only are they desperate for attention and more than a little crazy acting, they’ve got horrifically bad taste in art.

Screen Shot 2014 05 01 at 1 26 43 PMThis is the ugly statue that the Satanic Temple wants to put on Oklahoma’s Capitol grounds.  

I’ve Got a Lot of Past, and Not All of It’s Good

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Like everybody my age, I’ve got a lot of past.

Not all of my past is good.

In fact, a portion of it is seriously miserable.

I try to forget.

And forgive myself for the things I’ve done.

I try to forget.

And forgive others for the things that have been done to me.

But there are days when that load of past can get heavy. Especially in church. My miserable past includes a couple of bad times with church. I’ve experienced the rejection of unforgiveness. Even though I forgive as best I can, the memory still comes back from time to time, like an ache in an old break in a bone when the weather changes.

The two greatest challenges this poses are a loss of trust and a deep feeling of unworthiness. The bad opinions of others can imprint on a person and leave their ugly image. Trust, once it’s cut away, doesn’t re-grow. It callouses over, but the nerves are dead.

I have periods of time in my life when the hardest thing I have to do is go to mass. Not because of any latent anger, but because of the deep sense of unworthiness. I have no right to be there in the presence of the Presence, and I know it.

I had an exceptionally rough bout with this recently. I actually left the church during mass, left my husband there, holding the hymnal and looking at me with uncomprehending eyes as I left, driven away by the unworthiness that is branded into me.

I used those moments away to gather myself to myself and then I went back in. But it wasn’t easy. I got through that mass by looking at the tabernacle and talking to Him.

Because it’s true, you know. I have no right to be there, in the presence of the Presence. I am unworthy, as John the Baptist said, to untie His sandal. Yet the reason, the only reason, that I am there is that He invited me.

In the final analysis, the Presence does not belong to any priest, or even to the Church itself. They are its guardians, and the conduit by which God graciously consents to dwell among us in the Eucharist. But the Presence is God Himself, and as such, that Presence belongs to no human being. It is It’s Own Self.

I came to the Catholic Church and asked to come into full communion because Christ in the Eucharist called me to Himself. It was a call that was so clear, persistent and patient, that, in the end, it worked its way past all the obstacles to what was at the time a rather bold step of faith.

Jesus called me to Himself in the Eucharist. That is why I am Catholic.

And on that day when my own unworthiness flared into a blistering flame inside me, when I wanted to run away, to paraphrase St Peter, because I am a sinful woman, He was there, not to call, but to strengthen me past my focus on me and bring me into a fresh focus on Him.

I kept looking at the tabernacle, at Jesus, present in our midst. I don’t know if it was a prayer, or a conversation, or a vow of a sort. I only know I spoke directly to Him and He heard me.

“You are my Lord,” I told Him. “You are the reason I am here. You are the One I trust. You and only You.”

There was more. But that’s the gist of it. Shattered trust is like an amputation. It can’t grow back. We can never undo the things we’ve done or forget the lessons of the things that are done to us. Forgive, yes. But forgetfulness would be to unlearn the life lessons and forego the spiritual depth these things give us.

If you live long enough and do enough hard things, you will lose your trust in people, in fate, in your own good luck. The illusions of personal invincibility die a hard death, but Christ can and will raise up a new trust and a new invincibility from the ashes on that pyre of self-sufficiency.

“You are my Lord,” I told Him, and it was as much vow as prayer; an open acknowledgement of the truth of things, bound up in a promise. “You — and You only — are my Lord.”

“You are the reason I am here.” I said, not because I enjoy the liturgy or find affirmation in the friendships, but “You — and You only — are the reason I am here.”

“You are the One I trust,” because You have proven Yourself trustworthy time and time again, because You loved me first and because You forgave me and walk with me and endure me and keep forgiving me over and over again.

“You and only You,” because people, even the most lovable and precious of people, will let you down. Because, I, you and everyone, will let ourselves down. We will betray one another and we will also betray ourselves. Only Christ will never fail us.

I was not the only wounded person in the church that day. I am never am. We are all wounded, in one way or another. We shatter our self-righteousness by the things we do, and we face the terrible isolation and aloneness of the things that are done to us.

The many cruelties people practice against one another — our gossip and slanders, violence, lies, betrayals and deliberate degradations — are all at base an isolation of the other person, a way of putting them outside while we remain inside.

We draw lines around ourselves and our group, whoever that group may be, and then we push everyone outside that line into a sub-class of one sort or another. This hurts and maims all of us.

So many times on this blog I see angry, harsh comments, coming from people who at base are just trying to express their sense of isolation and rejection. The truth is, no one of us, not a single person of us, has the right to stand before God.

But He is our Lord. And He has invited all of us — ALL of us — to His table. No one of us has a right to be there. But, by the miracle of His love, no one of us is too wounded, too sin-sick, too disreputable, too female, too gay, too poor, too fat, too ugly, stupid or lost to be refused a place at that table. We are all welcome.

He is always with us, even when others fail us or turn us away. He is always ready to accept us and forgive us. We don’t have to stop sinning and get perfect to come to Him. He accepts us just, as the old hymn says, as we are.

We may have to jump through more hoops that we can manage to find surcease and acceptance from other people. But all we ever have to be or will ever have to do with Him is put our hand in His and say “Yes.”

“You are my Lord,” I told him. It is as simple as that.

2013 Favs: 3 Million Line Beach for World Youth Day Vigil

Do you love Jesus?

You’re not alone.

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 Source: Capital Gazette, AP, Filipe Dana

From the Capital Gazette:

Pope Francis drew a reported 3 million flag-waving, rosary-toting faithful to Rio’s Copacabana beach on Saturday for the final evening of World Youth Day, hours after he chastised the Brazilian church for failing to stem the “exodus” of Catholics to evangelical congregations.

Francis headed into the final hours of his first international trip riding a remarkable wave of popularity: By the time his open-sided car reached the stage for the vigil service Saturday night, the back seat was piled high with soccer jerseys, flags and flowers tossed to him by adoring pilgrims lining the beachfront route.

“I’m trembling, look how good you can see him!” gushed Fiorella Dias, a 16-year-old Brazilian who jumped for joy as she reviewed the video she shot as the pope passed by. “I have got to call my mother!”

On the beach, pilgrims staked out their spots on the sand, lounged and snacked, preparing for an all-night slumber party ahead of the final Mass on Sunday. Many of those actually paying attention to the vigil had tears in their eyes, moved by Francis’ call for them to build up their church like his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, was called to do.

“Jesus offers us something bigger than the World Cup!” Francis said, drawing cheers from the crowd in this soccer-mad nation. (Read the rest here.)


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