I’ve been looking for a website that features a Catholic Mass with a native English speaking celebrant, and found what I was looking for on youtube’s Heart of America. It’s not that I can’t decipher the foreign priests who do their best, but having a foreign language background myself, I am surprised at my inability to understand a priest whose native language is not the one I was familiar with.
The word of God is precious, no matter what, and when I have no choice, I understand the procedure of the Mass regardless of the nationality of the celebrant. I can supply my own prayers. But it is refreshing to understand the man who is celebrating something dear to me.
Catholics used to hear the Mass in Latin, so what am I complaining about? I don’t have a missal anymore, but I do borrow my wife’s prayer book that has it all after Mass.
The wooden step to the front door was caved in, and she took me to a rigid sofa next to a window. She was a young high-schooler that the tutoring service had assigned to me, in the heart of Amityville. It was our first session, but I knew the window light was not enough. I stood up to turn on the lamp on the end table, and saw the bulb was missing. When I asked her what novels she had read lately, I got blank silence.
For our next session I brought a 150watt bulb, and two paperback novels of the popular kind (I didn’t want to start with Wuthering Heights). One was called The Lonely Heart.
As we ended our last session, I wondered if she read in any of the novels. As I stood up to go, I noticed behind the base of the lamp, the bulb was shining on The Lonely Heart, with a bookmark in the middle.
You don’t have to be a baseball player to know what a sacrifice is. If you’re a parent or an offspring of somebody aged, you know it’s giving something up so the other may have a fuller life. Our Lady of Fatima asked those three children to offer small sacrifices (candy, first in line, etc.) with their saying of the rosary to pave the way to heaven for many. (It sure struck me.)
As a teacher I know I made some impression by giving up time, though I only had each student forty-five minutes a weekday for ten months, but that’s enough to plant a seed. I tried to pave the way to a fuller life. I admit I didn’t always succeed; one is now in Sing-Sing (maybe two), though that’s not the end. Then there’s the night hours spent correcting an almost weekly composition. What did that note in the margin say?
Sacrifice is even the secular life, not just the Christian. You give up dessert to lose a few pounds, a party to study, sleep to be early, so we learn the trade-off soon in life. But do it cheerfully. The world (and the Lord) loves a cheerful giver!
Catholics call that aspect of God which is the source of truth and knowledge the Holy Spirit. To distort the truth about anyone, as the Washington Post and the New York Times have been doing for the past four years, is the kind of offense that calls for repercussions, and those two newspapers are paying in a decrease in readership. Truth is something godly, and bias and lies are ungodly.
A newspaper is one of the essentials of self-government, for people need a basis on which to base actions and attitudes. Like any government entity, they need reliable information, based on the truth. If a newspaper can’t sustain that requirement, it is as good as failed. The travel section will not be enough to support it.
I am sure there are many young reporters who want to write the unvarnished truth, and are not permitted by the ownership of the newspaper. This unfortunate situation is a corruption of the ideals of good journalism, and degrades the status of the dedicated journalist.
Don’t. Wait. Experience has shown that it is a temporary urge if the mind is open to other thoughts. It is a most ungrateful action, for the Creator has gloried in your thoughts and creativeness. You originated from nothingness, and now are something remarkable.
Get help. You’re not going to beat this devil alone. Help may be psychiatric, or even amateur, but that situation needs help. Sylvia Plath, the poet, with a creative mind, couldn’t do it alone. We are here to help one another, or to get help when needed.
All that exists, the birds, the seagulls, the squirrels, even the cockroaches, are a symphony of praise to the Creator, and although He may take his time (Rome wasn’t built in a day or a week), you are in for something good. Yes, I got that from the New Testament. Read something. Even Tolstoy. But get involved with life.