I’ve now had time to read yet more details of the newest report of Pope John Paul the Second’s habitual shielding of abusive priests from consequences. The linked report gives a lot of the evidence that’s been compiled. It certainly looks credible. What strikes me is that one of the perpetrators is described as exclusively abusing girls, in a catechism class. Of the other two, one seems to have exclusively abused boys, and the gender of the third’s victims is... Read more
We need to talk about Pope John Paul the Second. In case you haven’t heard, it’s now being reported that Pope John Paul the Second, who was canonized a saint in 2014 after a suspiciously fast-tracked process, covered up sexual abuse during his tenure as archbishop in Poland. In this case he shielded three different priests, maintaining a correspondence with one of them. Two of the priests eventually served prison time no thanks to him. And I can’t believe anyone... Read more
It turned out that Uncle Junkyard hadn’t abandoned us after all. When he never showed up the past few weeks, I despaired that he’d gotten angry with me and was never coming to look at Serendipity’s new electrical problem. But I finally found out that the poor man had been in the hospital with a bad case of pneumonia, and was now home recuperating in bed. All isn’t lost, it just takes a very long time. I will... Read more
It wasn’t a very good weekend. A friend I know on social media was having trouble with religious trauma as I do, and didn’t want to go to Sunday Mass. Tiresome people who didn’t understand were droning at her that it was her obligation and she’d be in mortal sin if she didn’t. Several people including me tried to explain the situation, but it didn’t help. I had some professional writer I’d never heard of assuring me over and over... Read more
I haven’t been myself lately. Well, that’s not true. I’m ridiculously unable to be anything other than myself. That’s just the trouble. The corner I’ve painted myself into is remarkable. Insofar as I have a following, I gained one as a Catholic writer back when I was so sick with a misdiagnosed chronic illness that I couldn’t do anything but sit up in bed and write about being a Catholic, and now here I am. And I’m more and... Read more
There are two hawks in LaBelle. All this time I thought there was one hawk and there was something the matter with my eyes, but there are two. I should have guessed this from the number of feathers I was finding on my walk: here and there a large pile of soft white down feathers from an unfortunate pigeon, on the sidewalk or in the yard or in a vacant lot. And then I would only see one hawk... Read more
I am trying to pray. Sometimes I don’t speak when I try to pray, as I told you all the other day. Sometimes I try to speak. Sometimes it doesn’t come out very well. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. In the Name of the Father. What is a father? A father is someone who fathers, and that is different from being a mother. A mother walks around with a... Read more
I should pray. It’s the first Friday of Lent. I’m not skipping Lent this year. The religious trauma is bad, but I think I can pray. This shouldn’t be too hard. I used to pray all the time, didn’t I? There are all kinds of prayer. I can find one I like. Not a litany or a Rosary or an hour of the Divine Office, those hurt too much. I’ll just meditate for awhile. Just picture myself in the presence... Read more
Remember you are dust, and unto dust you shall return. Dust is not a bad or a good thing. It’s only a small thing. Anything broken up into tiny enough pieces becomes dust: ashes, sand worn very fine by the wind, sawdust from a mill. Remember you are dust, and unto dust you shall return. When I watched the 9/11 terrorist attacks happen over twenty years ago, I was traumatized by the cloud. I couldn’t imagine anything so sinister... Read more
I thought last night about my dream of the suffering hart, the one I told you about this week— the very silly nightmare my brain conjured up out of random religious images, that I realized was a great illustration of my trauma and of how I’m learning to think about Christ. I’ve been using that image of Christ as a hart, a giant male red deer, locked up in a basement as a meditation prompt, because it speaks to... Read more
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