2015-08-11T17:42:02-05:00

(I had to wait to post this until I got my kid registered, lest y’all fill up the classes he needed.)

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Those who followed me over here know I have this thing for Kolbe Academy. I wrote my own curricula the first few years of homeschooling, but by the time the eldest were in 4th & 6th grade, I needed to outsource a bit of the work.  Of the major Catholic curriculum providers, all of which are excellent, this was the one that best fit what we needed.  How I picked:

  • The overall syllabus was closest to what the spouse & I would have put together on our own.
  • I looked into the high school program, and found it was pretty close to perfect for us.  I knew I wanted serious structure for high school, so I went with a program that I thought I’d probably continue with the whole way through.
  • The amount of handholding was perfect: What I needed were day-by-day course plans, and that’s what they do very, very well.
  • The amount of flexibility (100%) was also the amount I needed.

Over the past several years, my eldest two have done approximately 60% – 80% of their classwork per the Kolbe plans, and we’ve substituted other stuff here and there as appropriate.  (Two of my favorite alternate sources – textbooks from Seton and Catholic Heritage Curricula.)

All this to say: We’ve never done the online courses before, so maybe they’ll be terrible.  (I doubt it, or I wouldn’t post this.)  But when I got to planning the boy’s 9th grade, it came to my attention that me schooling him 100% was going to be a lot of work.  Which work I was willing to do.

After having made the decision that I’d suck it up, clear my calendar, and be the virtuous homeschooling mother he needed, the online courses happened to jump back in front of my face again.  Since he’s a pro at all this internet connectivity stuff, I knew that managing the “online” portion would be no trouble for him, and way more efficient for our family than me carting him all over three counties to various highschool-a-la-carte programs available in our region. (When the boy learns to drive, I’ll reassess.)  The pricing is similar or a little less expensive than if I’d farmed him out to local instructors.

So that’s the story.

I was happy to see that the summer program offers, in addition to some fun stuff, courses geared towards 9th-grade-readiness.  Between this morning’s evaluation of his literature essay rough draft (“Looks like a great start for a submission to Dr. Boli, but I need something a little more academic for your portfolio, please? If you ever mean to play another video game again in your life? Yes? Child whom I love??) and my recollection of the difficulty of being thrown into a completely different school system with no tutorials on how to “do school” in the new system, I was very glad for the warm-up courses.

So we’re doing that, and then come fall the boy is registered for the online courses in everything but foreign language and some electives.  Which frees me to be just the homework assistant, which role is about right for me at this time. We’ll see.  If my life sounds sorta like your life, you might check it out and see what you think.*

 ——

*My only caveat is that Kolbe’s courses are rigorous.  One advantage of Kolbe Off-Line is that you the parent can make substitutions per your child’s ability.  If you don’t want to read the Illiad in 9th grade, you can read something else.  If you need fewer papers and more math problem practice, you can do that.   In contrast, the online courses work like a regular classroom-class, in which you are expected to actually do the work assigned, when it’s assigned and how it’s assigned.  So I advise you to read the course descriptions and think about your student’s ability to handle the course load before you commit.  (The courses happen to suit my boy quite well, so not a problem for us.)

 

**I like St. Maximilian Kolbe the saint, too. Because who wouldn’t?  Except the Nazis.

——

Random other thing: I was thrilled when Kolbe said they’d come to the Midlands Homeschool Convention.  Kolbe enrolls a lot of non-Catholic families, it turns out, so an ecumenical conference is of interest.  This is handy for me, because in my talk on successful homeschooling despite a decidedly distractible streak, which I am slated to give at said convention, exactly these kinds of solutions are among those I propose.  I’ll also be talking about the unschooling option, which for a certain contingent is a viable solution to the parental-discipline problem.  But not for everyone.  Lots of ways to handle that problem.

 

Calendar image courtesy of Kolbe Academy.

2015-08-02T15:35:10-05:00

We’ve got a new round of Catholic internet drama going, and it hardly matters what the excitement is this time.  I’m keeping my nose out of it, because otherwise my post will lose its perennial freshness.  Ever ancient, ever new — that’s Catholic craziness for you.

Meanwhile, for those who haven’t sworn off  iGossip and taken up gardening or macrame, here’s my three top tips for keeping your head on straight and your friendships in order, even when someone’s wrong on the internet.

1. Remember Who’s Talking

The Catholic internet is composed of two groups of people:

A. Calm people.  To wit: Jimmy Akin, and then this one really sweet mom lady who posts pictures of her kids eating solemnity-themed cupcakes.  There might be a third.

B.  Hotheads.  That’s the rest of us.

Oh, I know, even now you’re rushing to either dissect a Church Father or quick find an obscure Catholic holiday your children can celebrate with costumes made out of paper plates, so that you can squeeze into Category A. But admit it: If you take a strong interest in controversial topics like politics, liturgy, or catechesis, you probably have just a touch of opinionated fireball inside that cool, calm exterior.  Maybe more than a touch.

And here’s the clincher: Those other hotheads you’re reading right now?  They are living in a completely differently world than you.

You’ve been given a view down the shirt of every staff member of your parish; she’s been informed one time too many that her ankles are a near occasion of sin.  He attends St. Simon & Garfunkel’s, and has been twitching every since they went to an all-harmonica Mass three years ago; your parish bulletin is now published almost entirely in Latin.  Because people complained Greek was too hard.  Your religious ed program consists of, “Pick a color you really love.  Share with your friends how it makes your feel.”  Their religious ed program consists of, “You may get up off your knees as soon as you have the Vulgate memorized.  Then you may work on your diorama of the fires of Hell.”

I’m joking, kids, I’m joking.  But seriously: Very many times, the source of the argument among faithful Catholics is not a radically different understanding of the faith; it’s a dramatically different experience of how the faith is lived in their corner of the universe.

Even if you and the other keyboard-jockey both attend the same parish and the same Mass, the two of you have different backgrounds.  Different playground traumas.  Different incidents that color your view of the Church.  Consider the possibility that your worthy opponent has good reasons for being so wrong-headed.

2. Try to Talk Your Friend Off that Ledge

One of the highlights of my internet life is seeing how many people who think I’m absolutely, horribly, wrong about something are perfectly ready to engage in productive dialog, if I take a genuine interest in what they have to say and why they say it.

(I know, some of you shuddered when you heard the word “dialog”.  Listen: It can be good.  It’s not always a code word for “namby pamby faithy-ism.”  Respectful conversation can be a fruitful means of getting closer to the truth – iron sharpens iron and all that.)

The mark of a crazy person isn’t the odd temper tantrum or hot-button topic.  Everyone has their bad day, bad week, bad decade.  It happens.  Have you tried gently asking a few questions, or did you go on the counter-attack?  I know the counter-attack urge, I understand it, trust me.  (See: Hothead.)  But don’t be shocked that someone gets defensive when you go on the offense.  It is the mark of Christian maturity to resist when the hotheads try to work you into a lather.

And if you did go on the offensive (see: Hothead, Takes One to Know One), from that moment on you’ve got to consider every harsh word in your little brawl to be just a bad night at the pub.  You engaged.  You were part of the problem.  Brush yourself off, go home, sleep off the hangover, and try to be friendly next time.  Give your sparring partner the same charitable benefit of the doubt you’d like extended towards yourself.

3. Let Go of the Envy

Blogging, Facebook, Twitter . . . these media all require us to put ourselves out there.  There’s nothing inherently sinful about being a person who has a knack for marketing.  Don’t begrudge someone their one big talent.  Don’t assume that, “I have to make my writing pay because I’d fail out of engineering school in half an hour,” is  the same thing as, “I possess an enormous ego.”

Do people who depend on writing to earn a living have to be utterly focused on bringing the paycheck in?  Yes they do.  Just like people who depend on plumbing or electrical work or writing software have to be focused on keeping their profession profitable.  Everyone has to eat.  But just because the construction company has to watch its bottom line doesn’t mean that every foreman is a self-centered money-grubber who’d happily see your children crushed to death during breakfast, just so long as your account is paid in full and your check has been cashed.

A concern about page views or advertising revenue or book sales can be a professional hazard.  But a professional hazard does not make every professional hazardous.

Take pleasure in the work that you do, and take pleasure in the success of others who do similar work.  There is a massive need for evangelization.  Our mission at St. Blogs is to colonize cybersapce.  Scratch the internet, find a faithful Catholic.  That’s the goal.  Get out there, be that Catholic.

Have a great weekend.

File:V&A - Raphael, St Paul Preaching in Athens (1515).jpg
St. Paul wants YOU to preach the Good News.  But possibly in some other corner of the known world, if the two of you can’t quite get along.

Artwork by Raphael [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons 

Update: Someone inquired where the term “St. Blog’s” came fromGreat place to find piles of good reading.

2015-08-11T18:01:42-05:00

I got a note from Bryan Murdaugh this morning about my freshly-pressed column up at New Evangelizers, I am totally publishing it.  You would, too, you know you would.

Your article made its way into my inbox this morning, and once again, bravo! You have such an amazing way of bringing practical truths into the lens of things important for the faithful. It reminds me of who-knows-how-many-million young people (and their accompanying adults) I have reminded that Sunday Mass is important enough that even a vacation doesn’t warrant skipping it.

See?  I should add right now that not only does Bryan have impeccable in taste in Catholic evangelization-blogging, if you need your massive, my-business-depends-on-this website overhauled, and some videos made, too, he’s your guy.

***

But what did you write about, Jennifer?  I can’t click through until I KNOW!!

Well, I start off with cats.  You might want to skip the first paragraph if you’re squeamish:

For the last twenty years I’ve kept a working cat around the house . . .

Just kidding.  I do talk about the un-dead things cats drag in, but there are no graphic descriptions.  Just helping you relate.  To the harrowing lives of small, tormented lizards.

Why lizards?  When you usually don’t have very much in common with tortured reptiles, or rodents?  Because this:

Sometimes I show up at Sunday Mass looking like that half-dead thing. If you’re doing it right, sooner or later you will, too.

But Jennifer, Jennifer! We’re supposed to look fabulous for Mass!

I mention that.  I even share glimpses of the extraordinary planning it takes to pull that off if you have small children or other lifestyle challenges.  But you should come to Mass even on sub-fabulous Sundays:

But here’s the secret about the Sunday Obligation: God doesn’t want you skipping Mass just because you aren’t picture-perfect.

And then I explain why.  And that’s the important bit you’ll want to go over to NE and read right now.

Chamaeleo_namaquensis_(Walvis_Bay)
This innocent lizard was never tortured by my cat. That’s why it looks so smug.

Photo credit: Yathin S Krishnappa [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

2015-08-11T18:04:51-05:00

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It’s come to my attention there are some parents of more than one child who do not know this potty-training method.  You need to know this method.

What you’ll need:

  • A small child ready to be done with diapers.  Not “ready” per his decision, but ready per medical advice and mother’s readiness.
  • At least one older sibling who knows how the whole potty thing works.
  • A bag of skittles.

What you do:

Every time the potty-training child goes potty in the toilet, all children of the home get a piece of candy.

 

FAQ’s

Q. Does this mean my children are going to spend all day running my toddler to the potty every five minutes?

A. Yes, it does.  What exactly was your goal, if not that?

 

Q. How do I handle accidents, going in the diaper, and other potty training failures?

A. I like Windex, paper towels, and old grocery bags.  But you won’t get many of them, now that your toddler has a steady supply of candy so long as he can produce another milliliter of peepee in the pot.

 

Q. Doesn’t this teach children to work for rewards instead of a sense of personal accomplishment?

A. That’s the reason 99% of workers with paying jobs turn out at the office each morning.

 

Q. My children are spoiled. Candy doesn’t motivate them.

A. You’re doing it wrong.

 

Q. Will I still be giving out potty-candy ten years from now?

A. Only if you keep having more babies.   Once the child is actually potty trained, end the candy routine by celebrating with a definitive reward to end all rewards.  (In our house, the coveted item is My Very Own Umbrella Now That I’m a Big Kid, but your mileage may vary.)

 

Now you know. Train one, and then let your minions manage the underlings.  Good luck on that first one, though.  Sheesh.

 

Artwork: Isaac Cruikshank [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

2015-08-11T18:14:31-05:00

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Today’s topic: What are the pitfalls of the grab-a-priest method of securing a sacramental confession, and if not that method, when should you go to confession? First some basics. You need to go to confession if you’ve committed a mortal sin.  And you should do it ASAP.  In the meantime, make a sincere act of contrition, that is to say: Pray to God and tell Him you are sorry for committing that sin.  Example: God, I am very sorry for doing _______.  Please forgive me.

Then get your rear end into the confessional as soon as you possibly can. This is a drop everything and make confessing a top priority situation. Show up late to the barbeque, go without a gallon of milk until Monday, whatever you need to do in order to get yourself in line and in front of a priest.

–> If there is truly no Catholic priest available, but there is an Orthodox priest who will hear your confession, confession to an Orthodox priest works as an emergency back-up plan.  We aren’t talking, “I can’t be bothered to turn out at 4:30 on Saturday, and anyway the Orthodox are cooler, look at those beards . . ..”  We’re talking, “Here in rural Siberia, next train to a Catholic priest comes on the 5th of the month, I sure hope I don’t die before then.”

Before you accost some innocent cleric with an emergency confession, do a reality-check to make sure you actually committed a mortal sin.

How you feel has nothing to do with it.

Allow me to repeat:

How you feel has nothing to do with it.

You could be in the depths of despair over the blackness of your soul because you failed to smile cheerfully at the grocery store lady, and you have not committed a mortal sin.

You could be utterly indifferent to the fact that you just raped and killed someone, guess what, doesn’t matter how you feel, guilty as charged.

Three conditions for a sin to be mortal, and if these apply to you, head straight to confession:

1. It concerned a serious matter. Killing or seriously injuring an innocent person.  Stealing very valuable items or large sums of money. Full-on drunkeness.  Adultery, contraception, fornication, bigamy, IVF, artificial insemination.  Stuff like that.

No matter how wicked you felt doing it, small sins (venial sins) are, though worse than the measles, not mortal sins.  A mortal sin kills the life of the soul.  A venial sin damages your soul and strains your relationship with God, and poses all kinds of dangers to you and to others, but it is not a situation in which emergency confession is needed.

2. You knew it was wrong.  So you choked when I put “contraception” up there as a mortal sin, because you’re thinking geez louise, everybody does that.  Well, now you know better.  Before you didn’t, now you do.  If you know something is a serious sin and you do it anyway, you are culpable — guilty — of a grave offense against God.

If, on the other hand, you just walked off the compound in which you were raised, and truly had no idea that __________ was a serious sin, you aren’t culpable for what you did before you knew better.  It’s a good habit to confess in this situation, for a variety of reasons I won’t belabor.  But true brainwashing actually is a mitigating factor.

3. You freely chose to do it.  The things you do when the bad guys have a gun to your head, or in your dreams, or when you are recovering from surgery and still under the influence of those really good drugs they give you . . . those are not freely-chosen actions.  That said, Father’s going to ask a few pointed questions if you insist that it really was an accident when you slept with that hot male nurse post-op.  The drugs wear off, Father’s no dummy.

Likewise, accidents are accidents.  Sin always involves a choice.  {–> Pastoral aside: If you accidentally kill or maim someone, go ahead and seek out sacramental confession to put your mind at ease.  No sane priest will refuse to hear your confession under such circumstances.}

If these three apply to you, it is reasonable for you to approach a not-in-the-middle-of-something priest, and say, “Father, I’ve got a mortal sin to confess, do you have 60 seconds to hear my confession?”  And if he says, “Yes, actually I can give you a full 70, let’s go, In the name of the Father . . .”, there you are.

Make it snappy: “Bless me Father for I have sinned, it’s been 48 hours since my last confession.  I committed the act of bestiality three times, murdered two small children (noisy ones), and stole $10,000 from an impoverished widow.  For these and all my sins I’m truly sorry.” Father’ll take it from there, and if he wants to spend extra time with you he will.

But Father might not have 45 seconds even, and will instead direct you to a better time and place to hear your confession.  Show up.

On the Fly Confession of Venial Sins

There are priests who are good with the P.E.G-endorsed method of random acts of sacramentality.  It’s okay to ask a priest who is not busy, and who is visibly open to crazy questions, “Father, do you happen to be available for an unscheduled confession right now? It’ll take me about ______ minutes.” Learn to accept no for answer.  Father might be practicing his fake smile, but actually he has twenty-seven things to do in the next hour.  His throat might be sore.  His ears might hurt.  He might be drop-dead tired.  He might still be in therapy for the trauma he experienced last time he agreed to such a request.

Things You Don’t Need to Confess

Why would Father grow wary of on-the-spot confessions? Because he meets a lot of crazy people.  You might be one of them if you:

  • Confess, every time, the same act you committed in 1973.  Once is enough.
  • Give long-winded explanations of every single unkind thing you every did.  “So then I was at Target, and I was trying to find the Fair Trade Decaf, but I can never really decide if I should drink decaf or just switch to herbal tea, and this lady came up to me . . .”
  • Treat your decidedly venial sins as if they were mortal sins.  If your husband used a condom and you aren’t sure whether you are culpable for having intercourse with him under those circumstances, sure, disturb a priest and find out the answer.  If you made a frowny-face at the guy who cut you off in traffic, save it for Saturday afternoon.

How Often to Confess Venial Sins

There is not a set rule on confessing venial sins.  You must confess your mortal (serious) sins, and you need to do that at least once a year so you can receive Holy Communion during Easter, but that guideline is a bare minimum.  Sacramental confession of venial sins is something you do not because you absolutely have to, but because it’s good for you. Some very general rules of thumb:

  • If you are going to confession more than once a week, that’s a red flag for scruples.  Let your priest advise you, and pare back to weekly unless you are clearly told otherwise.
  • Once a week, once a month, or something in between is a good general maintenance program to keep your soul nice and shiny and help you grow spiritually.
  • Once every few months may be all you can realistically manage, depending on the availability of priests in your area and the other obligations of your state in life.
  • Listen, we all have bad decades.  Get to confession when you can, and go ASAP if you commit a mortal sin.

Summary: No more than once a week unless your priest tells you otherwise, explicitly, and then go as you can in order to take advantage of the many graces God has to offer you through the sacrament.

If You Can’t Be Fast Be Last

How to make your fellow parishioners not hate you: Don’t be a confessional hog.  Your parish may have limited hours for confession. This might the pastor’s fault or it might not be, and that’s beside the point.  When there is only so much time to hear everyone’s confession, Father can’t give you twenty minutes of talk therapy if he’s going to give everyone else a chance to confess. It’s best to make an appointment if you want to spend a long time in confession.

If there are only three of you in line on Saturday afternoon, you can probably put yourself last in line and get away with a slightly longish confession (though someone else might show up, so you still need to be considerate). If there’s a long line of penitents, list-and-desist, get your absolution, and then call the Parish office Monday morning to make an appointment for follow-up discussion at another time.    

 

Artwork: Francesco Novelli – Amad. Gabrieli [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

2015-08-11T18:21:47-05:00

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One of the striking features of Harvard’s planned Black Mass, being hosted by Satanists who don’t believe in Satan, is that the exhibitors don’t actually believe their own religion.  If Catholics are concerned about the event, it is because we do believe ours.

The Catholic faith is not a set of feelings or preferences.  It is a series of statements about reality.  About things that are true. Things that are real.  The occult is gravely dangerous not because it is pretend, but because it is not pretend.  The faith is worth explaining and defending and practicing not because we especially like it, or have found it helpful, but because, like all real things, it has consequences.

***

When I first returned to the Catholic faith, it was because I felt empty without God.  I longed for His presence in my life again.  My husband and I began visiting churches, and we settled on a wonderful non-denominational evangelical congregation for the two of us, and then I’d slip over to Mass most Sundays.  I felt at home, happy, and mostly-converted.  If you had asked me in those first months, I would have affirmed I was a Christian.

But I still had one question: Is this true?

Jesus, are you real?

I had, after all, considered any number of other possible religions.  True atheism was beyond my natural inclination, but I was open to just about anything that involved some kind of spiritual life.  Christianity was more a religion of convenience than a religion of conviction.

So I prayed.  Jesus if you are real, let me know that.

I didn’t pray that for a day, or a week, or even a month.  I started attending my new evangelical congregation in August, and my prayer wasn’t answered until February.  I’ve known people to wait years, even decades, to have such a prayer answered.

***

I was hoping my prayer would be answered in some quiet, reverent moment all by myself.  Someplace seemly.  Instead, four things happened:

  1. My conversion came at the hands of a Baptist deacon.  Roman road, sinners’ prayer, all that.
  2. I was immediately filled with an overwhelming desire to attend Mass.
  3. When I went to Mass, it was as if I was hearing the Gospel for the first time.  My ears had been opened.
  4. My husband and I proceeded to argue about religion for a decade.

#4 was the clincher.  1-3 were powerful spiritual experiences that to this day remind me that God is a Person who takes an active part in our lives.  #4 is why I’m still Catholic.

***

From the moment I was born-again Catholic, I had to defend my faith.  I had to find proof that this wasn’t merely something I felt, or liked, or that was a personal calling, but that it was true. That it was real.  Experiences are one way of knowing things, but I can’t give everyone else my experience.  Reason, evidence, facts . . . these don’t depend on my subjective assessment.

***

My mother died about seven years after my conversion.  Shortly after I came home from the funeral, I had a meeting with my pastor (about religious education, as it happened). He offered his condolences, and asked me how I was doing.  “Well,” I told him, “death will make you decide whether you really believe all this stuff or not.”

It’s all just music and pretty colors until the corpse shows up.

***

I named this blog after an essay I wrote, and I wrote the essay at a time when I was staring death straight in the face.   A time when, by the grace of God, I received a happy reminder that I’d done scary things before.  That the best way through a crazy corner was to do it like you mean it.

 

But here’s the weird thing: The header photo on this blog scares me.  Why? Because I don’t like blind corners.  This blog, and the Catholic faith, aren’t about, “We’ll just hope for the best! Who knows!”  It’s about knowing, being certain, that you really can stick the corner.  You really will survive that turn.  It takes faith to ride a bike fast around a corner, but it also takes gravity and technique and decent road conditions.    It takes faith to face death, but it also takes an afterlife.  There has to be something there you can stick to, or you’re just dust flying in the air.

 

***

Serious Catholics aren’t upset about Harvard’s Black Mass because it hurts our widdle feelwings.  Deviancy? Oh please. Give me a middle-manager with a spouse and kids and mortgage who risks being fired in refusing to carry out the bosses’ immoral orders, that’s bravery, that’s standing up for yourself.  On a much grander scale still: I’m no theological bedfellow with Ayaan Hirsi Ali, but if you want to see a model of someone standing up courageously to immoral practices done in the name of religion, you’ll find few who’ve risked more.

No.  We’re concerned — gravely concerned — because unlike tatoos and piercings and pouty garage-band lyrics, inviting Satan into your life is no stage-play.  It’s not the thing you do to show how sophisticated you are.  It’s the thing you do if you mean to end up enslaved to a  personal force more powerful than yourself, and who will only let you go at unspeakable cost.

Artwork: Master of Saint Verdiana [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

2015-08-25T21:16:12-05:00

At New Evangelizers, I explain why now is the perfect time for an Easter Egg hunt, deadline: Pentecost.  Easter Friday — that’s the solemnity that falls a week after Good Friday — we drove to a park across town to meet friends for egg hunt that actually happened during Easter:

I try not to be insufferable about it. If this or that friend desperately wants my child to go hunt eggs mid-Lent, I don’t throw a temper-tantrum. I’ll suspend disbelief if it’s so very important to you.  But even my children now know that it’s just plain weird to hunt eggs on Good Friday.

Why fight the tide and try to match up our lives with the liturgical year?

The goal is to align our body, heart, mind, and soul.

During a season of preparation, we prepare. During a season of penance, we repent. During a season of feasting, we feast.

Humans are created to live in time.  We grow and change and work out our salvation minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.

What to do if you ate all the Peeps on Palm Sunday . . . is it too late for you?  Are you unredeemable? I say not:

If you’re off-kilter spiritually, get yourself back on track by making your physical life match the liturgical year. Put some flowers on the table.  Get a nice coffee cake to serve with breakfast this Sunday.  Put on the bunny ears if it helps you.  If you aren’t already doing so, consider lining up your prayer life with the liturgical year by reading the daily Mass readings, or following along with one of the hours of the divine office.

And all this isn’t just good for you, it’s good for evangelization.  Read the whole thing here.

Related: Fr. V tells his egg-dying story over at Adam’s Ale.  If you don’t already subscribe to AA, you really must.

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