Wonderful

Our Lady of the Barren Tree c. 1450, Petrus Christus

Hail, O Blossom of Incorruption!
Hail, O Crown of Self-mastery!
Hail, O you who shone forth as a Sign of Resurrection!
Hail, O you who displayed the Life of Angels!
Hail, Fruitful Tree from whom believers feed!
Hail, Shady Glen where many are sheltered!
Hail, O you who have born the Guide of the Lost!
Hail, Source of Life to the captives’ Release!
Hail, O you who unsettled even the Just Judge!
Hail, Indulgence of many who have fallen!
Hail, O Stole for those who lack freedom to speak!
Hail, O Tenderness who exceed all desire!
Hail, O Bride and Maiden ever-pure!

-Seventh Chant, The Akathist Hymn to the Blessed Virgin Mary

Cranky Question

Is it appropriate to sing “America the Beautiful” while waiting in line for Communion during Mass?

I know it’s Memorial Day weekend and we need to remember those who lost their lives in service to our country. I wholeheartedly dig that. The Priest at Mass mentioned it as part of his homily and the remembrance fit nicely. So here comes the highlight of the liturgy and with accompanying vocalist, the organ pumps out,

O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.

What does that have to do with worshipping God? The song was so loud, I had trouble concentrating.

I’m sorry…but the song was VERY inappropriate for the occasion. There will be other times this weekend where performing the song will be right but when receiving the adorable host isn’t one of them.

Crank mode: Off.

Not Good

Don’t let these guys handle a coffin.

H/T: Augusta Bro

Mystery Day Trip

Last Tuesday I took Hubby on a mystery day trip. I loaded him into the Matrix and off we drove along Route 2 west. Hubby kept guessing at the destination:

• Deerfield?
• Shelburne Falls?
• North Adams?
• Stockbridge?

No, No, No and No.

45 minutes later, I merged onto Route 91 north. More guesses:

• Brattleboro?
• Bennington?
• Burlington?

No, No and No.

About 2 hours later (I sorta underestimated the distance.) I made Hubby pull his cap over his eyes. I drove up the driveway, pulled into a parking spot and announced, “We’re here!” He pulled off the cap to see

This is the place.

Hubby replied,” We avoid them when they come to our neighborhood and  you drive into their backyard?” A devilish grin crossed my lips, “C’mon. This is American religious history.”

We climbed out of the Matrix and walked toward the monument in South Royalston, Vermont announcing the spot where LDS prophet Joseph Smith was born in a farm house on December 23, 1805. Choral music (Mormon Tabernacle Choir?) was piped through speakers throughout the grounds. We avoided going through the visitor center because we didn’t want to deal with black pinned LDS members. But, lucky us, one came out to meet us, Book of Mormon in hand.

In all fairness, Sister Mitchell was a lovely woman in her 60’s and gave us a overview of the history of the place and put up with our inane questions.

Sister Mitchell, LDS missionary

The monument is not on the exact spot but is not too far off. The birthplace/farm house is long gone but its footprint is marked with what looks like a stone garden with hanging birdfeeders.

Hearth in Joseph Smith's birthplace.

Faux pas number 1: I asked about the “magic tablets.” They were “golden plates.” Later on, we walked through the Visitor Center where a magnificent statue of the prophet was on display. At 38, Joseph Smith was murdered by a mob while killing time in jail on accusations of polygamy. (Sister Mitchell didn’t mention that part of the story.) The statue makes Joseph look really dreamy. Kind of like this:

Joseph Smith: He's so dreamy.

Faux pas  number 2: I asked Sister Mitchell if Joseph Smith actually looked like his statue or was there some “photoshop” going on?

“What do you mean?”

Whoops…

The visit, which should have been about 20 minutes, lengthened into 1 hour and 20 minutes. Since Hubby and I were the only visitors, I suppose Sister needed to talk to someone. It would be interesting to visit in the summer and see how Mormons interact with the place.

After leaving Sister Mitchell and Joseph Smith behind, we did something very un-Mormon. We drove down to Woodstock, VT and drank our fill of Long Trail’s Coffee Stout at Bentley’s Restaurant. Overall, I think our mystery day trip was very unique and not a waste of time at all. Hubby may have something else to say…

More photos can be seen at my Flickr site.

Easter Scene

Since 1990? (1991?) I’ve been having Easter dinner at a friend’s house. It all started in college when a floor mate invited me to her Mom’s for Easter. Now her sister has taken over the tradition and, like a bad penny, I keep turning up every year.

Her sister has ELEVEN kids (not a typo). Three are out of the house, so there were EIGHT kids (ages 15 to 7 months) romping around (plus two other families attended with four between the two). The sister and family are devout evangelicals and are all home schooled. The kids get along with each other and are very helpful to the parents.

But only in an evangelical home on Easter would you see two boys, ages 7 and 9 (approx) tumbling on the floor in the hallway. The older one has the younger one pinned and he says,

“And they call you the King of the Jews? CRUCIFY YOU!”

The younger one is rolling around, squealing, “No!”

They’re both laughing and having a grand old time.

Happy Easter

Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!

Earth and Heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumps high, Alleluia!

Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!

Good Friday Thought

My people, What have I done to you? How have I offended you? Answer me!
I led you out of Egypt; but you led your Savior to the Cross.
For forty years I led you safely through the desert,
I fed you with manna from heaven,
and brought you to the land of plenty; But you led your Savior to the Cross.
O, My people! What have I done to you that you should testify against me?

Yet Another Graham Greene Quote of the Day

This man just hits it out of the park. (O.K. all you English Lit people, don’t roll your eyes. I’ve never read Greene before in my life. I went to a school system that had us read classics like One Fat Summer. ‘Nuf said.)

Yesterday I bought a crucifix, a cheap, ugly one because I had to do it quickly. I blushed when I asked for it. Somebody might have seen me in the shop. They ought to have opaque glass in their doors like rubber-goods shops. When I lock the door of my room, I can take it out from the bottom of my jewel-case. I wish I knew a prayer that wasn’t me, me, me. Help me. Let me be happier. Let me die soon. Me, me, me.

[...] Dear God, I’ve tried to love and I’ve made such a hash of it. If I could love you, I’d know how to love them. I believe the legend. I believe you were born. I believe you died for us. I believe you are God. Teach me to love. I don’t mind my pain. It’s their pain I can’t stand. Let my pain go on and on, but stop theirs. Dear God, if only you could come down from your Cross for a while and let me get up there instead. If I could suffer like you, I could heal like you.

The End of the Affair

What a Morning

This morning I woke up excited about the day. The plans were to feed the cats, go to Mass, do a little grocery shopping, eat breakfast, jog at St. Cecilia’s, and, finally, motor over to Somerville to meet some friends for lunch.

Well, I got the “feed the cats” thing done…

All dressed up for church, I started my sporty Matrix and got out to scrape the ice off the windshield. I did something I never do. I closed the door (to keep the heat in, of course). I scraped the ice, lifted the door handle…

Locked.

Locked.

Locked.

Gulp.

It’s 7:15 am on a Sunday morning. Hubby is working in Boston. My cell phone and car keys are in my bag on the passenger seat. Just an inch of glass separate me from any means of getting out of the predicament.

Realizing that repeatedly lifting the handle for five minutes will not magically unlock the door. I calm down and pray, “Jesus, I trust in You” over and over hoping THAT would magically unlock the door. Nope. But it did get me to calm down and not think about the fact that the car is running, the heat is blowing at full blast and the head lights are illuminating the condo.

Now it’s around 7:25 am and it’s still Sunday. Who the heck would be up? With my red scraper in hand and a worried look on my face, I walked over to a neighboring condo unit and rang the door bell.

No answer.

Again.

No answer.

I walk over to another unit. Ring the door bell.

No answer.

Again.

No answer.

Still praying under my breath, I walked around the corner. The whole complex is dead quiet. (No one goes to church anymore?) Then I saw a car with exhaust coming from its tailpipe. The condo unit number is clearly marked on the parking space! With scraper in hand, I rang the unit doorbell. A friendly face opened the door.

“I live in 62J and unlike yourself, I’ve locked myself out of my car and everything is in there. May I PLEASE use your phone?”

“Sure you can.”

This neighbor who I’ve never met let me call AAA and insisted I wait in her place until the truck arrived. She was kindness itself. She was up to do groceries and was in no hurry.

30 minutes later, the truck arrived and in 5 seconds flat had the door open. My neighbor and I exchanged phone numbers and said our good byes.

I hit Mass, got the groceries and ate breakfast. I’ll leave the jogging until later but I’ll be able to see my buds in Somerville.

You know…the prayer worked. I’ve had a devotion to the Divine Mercy and the “Jesus, I trust in You” prayer is all wrapped up in that devotion. I suppose others would write off the neighbor-being-home as luck but in all things we have to rely on God and not on ourselves.

Good lesson in that.

Update: In case you’re wondering: I had a fab time with my pals in Somerville and I got my jog wearing short sleeves for the first time this year.

Another Graham Greene Quote of the Day

She had said to me – they were nearly the last words I heard from her before she came dripping into the hall from her assignation – ‘You needn’t be so scared. Love doesn’t end. Just because we don’t see each other…” She had already made her decision, though I didn’t know it till next day, when the telephone presented nothing but the silent open mouth of somebody found dead. She said, ‘My dear, my dear. People go on loving God, don’t they, all their lives without seeing Him?’

‘That’s not our kind of love.’

‘I sometimes don’t believe there’s any other kind.’

The End of the Affair