 I wrote a sophisticated and mature post on the Holy Innocents and the Flight into Egypt just a couple weeks ago in my Seven Sorrows meditations.  Go there and read that first if you want the pathos and self-searching that the Commemoration of the Holy Innocents so justly deserves. But I noticed, while I was writing that post, that it was very difficult to illustrate. I usually go to Wikimedia Commons and find an icon or a fine art painting... Read more
 Hey all, this isn’t a real blog post, just your periodic reminder that 90% of our income from Steel Magnificat comes from gratuities. Writing is my only job, and I make the vast majority of my income busking every day right here on Patheos. This year we have the unspeakable blessing of making so much in tips that we just barely don’t qualify for any discount on utility assistance from the HEAP department downtown, and I am pleased as Punch to not... Read more
 My daughter, Rosie, is well aware by now that there are different rites in the Catholic church, and that there tend to be plenty of aesthetic differences from place to place within a rite as well.  She’s learned about different apostolic churches not in communion with Rome as well, as I’ve taken her along to pray at Orthodox churches from time to time. We usually go to our Byzantine Catholic church, but sometimes we end up downtown at the fancy church with... Read more
It turns out I’m pretty good at making toffee. This is the first time I’d ever made toffee on purpose. One year I tried to improvise a clear glaze for Christmas cookies and ended up making a grainy, sparkly candy that yielded to the tongue like edible sand, but that was all. I always meant to add it to our holiday baking. This year, we had enough butter in the house to try to make toffee deliberately. I let Rosie chop up... Read more
 I missed the elusive Saturday bus and had to walk to the store. The rain had not yet turned to snow; it was gathering into puddles wherever the sidewalk dipped, soaking the hems of my trousers. It didn’t look much like Christmas– but then it rarely does. We usually don’t get our heavy snows til January. I like walking in LaBelle at Christmastime, whatever the weather. Nearly everyone puts up decorations. Some of the houses I thought were derelicts... Read more
 I want to thank everyone for joining Steel Magnificat in our advent series of meditations on the Joys and Sorrows of Our Lady. For anyone wanting to pray the Seven Joys and Seven Sorrows, I’m compiling all my meditations here in one place. The Seven Sorrows of Mary: (It is traditional to pray an Our Father and seven Hail Marys after meditating on each of these) The Prophecy of Simeon The Flight into Egypt The Loss of the Child Jesus... Read more
Who is she that comes forth as the daybreak? Who is this queen, most beautiful among women, whose brightness eclipses the sun? Who is this brilliant star raised to a higher place than the Heavenly Host? Is this Miriam? Is this the poor young girl from the occupied land, less than nothing in the eyes of the world? Is this the servant from the temple who became pregnant? Is this the homeless woman, the exhausted and traumatized mother, the despised refugee? Is... Read more
 There are two people who regularly knock at my door in a “shave and a haircut, two bits” rhythm. The first is the UPS driver who brings my vitamins. I like him. The second is the neighborhood beat cop who comes to the door whenever our neighbor Miss Manners calls the police on us, or whenever a neighbor calls the police on us because Miss Manners’s harassment of us disturbed them. No one has the gumption to call the police... Read more
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veX0HNgkkZw Early in the morning on the first day of the week, the women went to anoint the body of Jesus– but the body wasn’t there. They ran back to tell the Apostles in hiding; the apostles ran to the tomb and found it empty as the women had said. Why wasn’t He waiting by the tomb to tell them the good news Himself? Surely, He had gone to tell His mother first. Christ was the perfect Son. He would... Read more
We rode the bus to the mall to see Santa. Rosie brought along her teddy bear, Ribsy, whom she pretends is a dog. I took my jacket, because it was too warm for my coat. The sky was that odd piebald mix you get so often in the Ohio Valley– brilliantly clear overhead and a sheet of gray-black to the west. The bus was full of pleasant people discussing Christmas plans: the woman to the front of me was going... Read more
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