Category Archives: Catholic Life

Sunday Morning

14 Sunday Oct 2018

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It is 0518. I have been awake may be an hour. Pain wakes me up as it usually does.

The sadness that is there, the sadness I deny is there, filters in. I’m smart enough by now not to fight it.

I’m watching the wonderful performers of CinCity Burlesque do their striptease acts. They simultaneously mock and affirm our sexuality as classic burlesque stripping usually did. I like these women because they don’t have “perfect”bodies in the Playboy permanent adolescent perfect sense. They like to move their bodies. They dance, even though they don’t fit the expectation of what dancers should look like. Burlesque is always a mocking of our stereotypes, a parody of our lusts. They provide the important diversion from my pain.

I am enjoying my morning coffee and a slice of cinnamon babka. I’m feeling sleepy again. Maybe I will get up in time for the 8:30 Mass, or at least the 11:00 AM Mass. What with the deception of latest clerical scandals, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. But I persevere. I seek Jesus in His Holy Church, infiltrated by most unholy men.

The exercise is paying off. My shoulder has less pain, more mobility and flexibility.

Mrs DFD has work today. I will miss her. We are having dinner tonight somewhere. I hope it’s nice. We went to a French restaurant a couple of weeks ago that was pricy, but the food was very good and the atmosphere superb.

So I’m going back to bed after one more cup of coffee.

Later, dear readers,

Rosary

19 Wednesday Sep 2018

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“Pray The Rosary every day”, admonishes a Catholic traditionalist activist. “No excuses.”

He is, of course, right. The Rosary affirms that Our Lady listens to us, prays with us, intercedes for us. By extension The Rosary affirms that Jesus Christ, Second Person of The Most Holy Trinity, hears our prayers and the intercessions of His Blessed Mother. Catholicism (Christianity) is about supernatural faith. God is alive. He hears us. The practice of our Faith is not a dry frivolous exercise of rituals and entreaties into a silent void. If anyone tells you otherwise, run, do not walk, away.

Evil is at work. Pope Leo XIII told us explicitly after a vision he had of Satan telling Our Blessed Lord that he could destroy His Church in a hundred years. The corruption of the Church is evidence of Satan working overtime.

If you are Catholic, pray The Rosary. If you have never prayed The Rosary, start now.

Hootenanny Mass

23 Monday Jul 2018

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Sunday at Five PM, they break out the guitars and tambourine, find piano arrangements weirdly evocative of an 80’s piano bar, and sing about Jesus not as Redeemer, but panacea for one’s problems, just in case Prozac© Cialis© or Omeprazole© don’t work.

This is The Holy Sacrifice Of The Mass? The Confiteor is abbreviated, combined, if not blurred altogether, with the Kyrie. Why not? Confession is mandated but once a year. You can do a lot of sinning in 365 days. Your mindfulness can all but vanish and the rationalization of your selfishness can take free rein.

Somehow, The Church has abandoned exhorting, guiding, and nurturing the faithful in the discipline of personal holiness. Practice of faith comes with minimal abstinence, fasting or penance. Quiet contemplative prayer is the province of decrepit monks and praying the Rosary is relegated to little old ladies in Warsaw, Sicily, or Mexico City. The Hail Mary is now a synonym for a desperation play in football. And the clergy? They agreeably play along as if spine on their part was optional, if not downright rude.

The Church acts as if good social policy, and a cheap sentimental love are substitutes for the selfless love that Christian love, agape, compels of us.

The sappy music follows the Mass like the soundtrack of a Hallmark Channel Christmas show. And the nagging questions never pierce our consciousness, “Am I loving God with all my heart, mind and soul?” “Am I willing to walk away from my life, comfort, prosperity, the esteem of my friends and family, for the love of God?”

The Precious Body of Our Lord is distributed as if it were a cookie.

The Mass soon ends. As the last strings have been strummed, the last chord played and the tambourine shakes no more for at least another week, the audience, oops, congregation applauds. Yes applauds. Can a priest at least admonish the parish that this is not entertainment? Applause is inappropriate.

I feel as empty as I felt when I walked in.

More Of The Same

12 Thursday Jul 2018

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More back pain.

More insomnia.

More wishing I could get to sleep.

I had a good swim today. Tonight I was going to go to a book discussion at Church on the history of The Mass, but when I got home from swimming, the desire and energy to go just wasn’t there. So I said I wasn’t going. Our parish is about 12 miles from the house. There are five parishes closer to us, but I like St Benedict because our priest offers a reverent version of a Novus Ordo Mass, no guitars or silliness. Sometimes at the 11 O’clock Sunday Mass, we will chant the Credo in Latin. Truly beautiful. And we will sing the proper Marian Anthem. Right now it is the Salve Regina. Sadly, there are Catholics who are ignorant of the Latin hymns, service music or Marian anthems and antiphons.

I digress. At least now I’m somewhat sleepy. Maybe the naproxen will work a little better.

It was, all in all, a good day.

Father’s Day

18 Monday Jun 2018

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Today is a big day for me, what with me being a father and all. I’m at the stage of life where no ties, tobacco pipes, fishing lures, golf balls, or single malt Scotch whisky are wanted, needed, or desired. In my earlier post, Cast Iron Pleasures, I extolled the praises of my wife’s gift.

Today was a day of resting. #1 Son is in the final stages of moving to Church Hill, an historic Richmond neighborhood. So a visit would have been a strain. #2 Son wanted to take me to a cool restaurant, Indian Fields Tavern, located in a converted farmhouse on Rte 5, Charles City County. This is the back road to Williamsburg, that bicyclists and motorcyclists use for the excursion. It is a cool place. I was gratified to know that #2 son enjoys this restaurant and this rather quaint road as much as I do.

It is tempting to fill the post with a long digression on the historic significance of #1 son’s new residence and #2 son’s discovery of an area important in both the Colonial era and the American Civil War, but I will save that.

What’s on my mind is how my wife’s job on the late shift at Target (a good place to work, btw) turns my sleep schedule all askew. Today I missed Mass. I just was too tired, even to go to the late afternoon Mass. So I did a bit of contemplation at home.

I had worked out (swimming) five days in a row, so I needed a day’s rest. All in all, this Father’s Day was good.

The Patronesses of France

31 Thursday May 2018

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St Thérèse of Lisieux and St Joan of Arc are here depicted kneeling before The Blessed Virgin Mary.

St Thérèse, The Little Flower, and St Joan are Patron Saints of France. The turmoil in Western civilization, including France, today is exacerbated by spiritual decline and down right decay. We would be wise to remember these two Saints. The Little Flower, St Thérèse, proclaimed that we can bear witness to Christ, in the smallest of deeds and prayers. We need not accomplish the great, merely do the small things well, like a meal lovingly prepared for our families or a Rosary prayed from the heart.

St Joan’s witness is all about courage. She was a soldier. Arrested by the enemies of France, she was put on trial, where, in the face of martyrdom, she professed her faith, remaining steadfast to it, as she was burned at the stake.

For our time, we need to proclaim The Gospel with simplicity, discipline, and courage. Pray that we can emulate these two Saints.

Up.

29 Tuesday May 2018

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It is early, 0331. I’ve been awake maybe an hour and a half. I have had the experience when I wake up, lie in bed a bit and sleep doesn’t return, so I “try” harder to sleep. What is that about? If I can “will” sleep, that would make me exceptional as a human. I am not equipped with an ON/OFF switch. None of us are.

I prayed the Rosary. Serenity crept back in. And my eyelids are a little heavier. I did some channel-surfing, and decided I didn’t need to see the same footage of the Wehrmacht on the Russian Front in the summer of 1941 that I had seen many, many times before. So I switched to watching for trains. Maybe a freight will pass through before I go back to bed..

I always have a sense of failure when the wake-ups and insomnia assert themselves. It is as if sleeping is my job. Sleeping is one of my few regular daily activities, along with eating.

Resting A While

05 Saturday May 2018

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The First Friday/Saturday of the month brings Nocturnal Adoration. Since my insomnia can easily have me up at Four AM, that is the time for my Holy Hour. I sit, meditate, pray The Rosary. It is a time for contemplation.

Much as it is rewarding for me, I feel it the next day. I have had a couple of naps. When Mrs CorC? woke up, I decided to fix breakfast/brunch. Having a brunch ready preemptively means we don’t go out and spend an absurd amount of money for a meal not that much better than what I can fix at home.

The selection today was a savory breakfast crêpe with a mushroom, bacon, cheese filling. I use the Fannie Farmer Cookbook recipe. I think it’s the most recent edition, put together by Marion Cunningham. It is a simple batter. The trick to a thin crêpe is to use very little batter (2 tablespoons) per crêpe. The brunch was well-received. I think we would have spent $25-30 easily going out.

I’m sitting now. Tired finally. The clean-up kicked my butt. Now I’m watching the end of the Yankees/Indians game. Yankees won, winning 14 of their last 15.

Honesty Advisory:

I find cooking highly erotic. The tactile experience, the smells, tastes, and, most importantly, the shared experience of eating with my lover. I can even forget the absence of a sexual component to our marriage.

I am always reminded of the marvelous film Babette’s Feast. A Parisian chef uses her lottery winnings to prepare an unforgettable meal for the Danish sisters who gave her a home during a political exile. It is from a story by Isak Dinesen.

So I will swim later. I have not been swimming consistently for a while. It is good to go back. I literally am working through the grief of a lost friendship.

A little passion would go a long way toward working through this pain.

Our Other Mother

12 Monday Feb 2018

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Can you imagine the Blessed Virgin Mary driving the car pool?

She notices the driver worried and distraught from her perspective as the statue on the dashboard. She looks at the driver, smiles and says, “You be still. I’ll take over. Turn me around and then do as I say.”

Yes fantasy. Hallucination perhaps. And yet she is our Protectress. We still have to do the work, but she prays for us and with us when we ask her. She is as much my mother as my birth mother was. She is ever near.

She is my great strength when I beseech her aid as I face all of the temptations and distractions that work their way between Her Son Our Lord and me. I used to think that this notion absurd until I actually implored her aid. It’s not magic. The temptation is still there. Yet its power is gone. The yearning for a dubious comfort has left when the HAIL MARY leaves my throat.

Go figure

From Archbishop Sheen.

11 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by in Catholic Life, Exercise/ Fitness, Love and stuff, Sexual Identity

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https://book-and-rifle-papist.tumblr.com/post/170743049874/celibacy-is-not-the-renouncing-of-a-person-outside

This is one of those challenges that puts my narcissism into focus. I have been living as half a person, waiting for my dormant sexuality to awaken and flower again, except that never seemed to happen, unless I wanted to destroy my marriage.

So I would live a vicarious sex life through various sex blogs, or watching pornography. I wondered if I would ever regain the intimacy that sexual pleasure with my wife would afford.

It never entered my mind that there was perhaps a “still more excellent way.”

Sex is pretty damned exploitative and self-serving, the way we pursue sexual satisfaction in this culture. Tear out the procreative motive and the exploitation is even worse.

I never thought I would be writing this. Please don’t think I am preaching at you. This is my choice, decision and perspective. I was simply trying to find happiness down a path I was not meant to walk.