Category Archives: Catholic Life

Saturday Night.

06 Sunday Aug 2017

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Early this morning, 2 AM, I was up, cleaning the kitchen. I puttered around a bit, getting ready for Adoration of The Blessed Sacrament between, 4 and 5 AM. My time with Our Lord has become very special and important to me.  I have had the rather startling experience of Our Lord “speaking” to me, not some hallucination, but through  an insight I had not had beforehand.  

This morning I read Father Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange’s book The Three Conversions In The Spiritual Life, (Tan Books, Charlotte, 1977) while spending my time before The Sacrament.

 Father Garrigou-Lagrange raises the question “Is man able, without some help from on high, (his italics), to get beyond himself, and truly and efficaciously to love Truth and Goodness more than he loves himself?” (Page 7). A challenge, most certainly.   Somehow, at age 66, the Interior Life for me has become the Last Frontier.  I shall read on. But the emptiness of our secular and materialist culture becomes increasingly apparent to me. More stuff won’t make me any happier. And even that end called “Happiness” seems the most vain of aspirations.

The day grinds on. I do some serious catch-up sleeping, have breakfast with friends, then sleep some more, go swimming, have dinner and here I am. 

We have lost our pursuit of the Beautiful and the True.  We use Art to derive solely emotional responses, and ascribe to that emotional response, Truth.  Is Truth a mere feeling? 

“Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty. That is all you know on Earth and all you need to know.” Keats,  Ode To A Grecian Urn

I am tiring, making less and less sense, and feel frustrated pecking out the letters on my Smartphone. More later.

Novus Ordo Sunday

24 Monday Jul 2017

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Usually, I go to Mass (or the two of us go) on Saturday evening or Sunday morning. Then Sunday brunch, maybe a nap and a swim workout.  Today Mass came after the swim at 5:00 PM. Mrs CorC? doesn’t find anything wrong with the Novus Ordo Mass. On the other hand, I find the music banal, the lyrics reduce Jesus to some sort of cure for what ails me.  There is a marked lack of reverence; the congregation acts as if it is at a concert. Somebody needs to tell them they are not there to be entertained. And yet, despite this irreverent atmosphere, Jesus is present, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the consecrated Bread and Wine. That is why I am there. 
I contrast this week’s Mass with last week’s. Last week I went to the Tridentine Mass, what is now called the Extraordinary Form. This was, until about 50 years ago, the only form of the Mass. Central to it is the Sacrifice of Our Lord. The Mass is celebrated in Latin, the Chants go back to St Gregory The Great. The music is extraordinarily beautiful, truly sacred , drawing the worshippers toward The Lord.  Quite frankly, it isn’t all that hard to follow. Consider that we the Congregation are supposed to know what’s being said and what’s going on.

The takeaway today is that Mrs CorC? and I  were there together. That means the world to me. I’ll even put up with an annoying tambourine to be with her. 

After Mass, we went to Starbucks so Mrs CorC? could have a S’Mores Frappuccino. She is a huge fan of this concoction,  I had some iced tea drink, with passion fruit, I think. It was OK..

Then we had tacos. Tacos are like pizza. It’s hard to make them bad. Watching baseball now, Cardinals at Cubs. The Yankees won already. 

Hard to believe it is almost Eleven P.M. I made some decaf. I had a peach for dessert. We are having a thunderstorm outside. Summer. Moving toward August and then Autumn awaits.

What A Day. 

30 Friday Jun 2017

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There is a phrase around AA that talks about packing much into the stream of life. I felt that today was one of those fully-packed days. I did not sleep all that well, waking up around Five AM, after sleeping maybe four hours.   I made coffee, texted with a friend,  and decided the 8:00 AM Daily Mass was in order. So I went.

I was hurting a little, OK a lot, and was not up for the standing and kneeling during the Mass. Today is the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, so the Mass included the Gloria and Credo, usually omitted on weekday Low Masses. Getting out around 8:45, I went shopping. I got a deal on a pork tenderloin and will fix it real soon.

After creating a breakfast that took parts of an Egg McMuffin, eggs Benedict, and creamed chipped beef, I made a poached egg sandwich on a whole wheat toasted English Muffin with chipped beef  and goat cheese. I ate it open-faced with a knife and fork. The protein made it quite satisfying,

Now I was sleepy, I slept another three hours. I woke up, spent some time on the computer, then went swimming at the Y while D, my stepmother did her exercise. Very satisfying experience. I told D that the worst part of driving was simply getting in and out of the car.

When I got home, I made a fresh tomato sandwich, using without hesitation or regret, real mayonnaise. FULL FAT. No feeble substitute. Worth every calorie.

During the day, I read blog posts, hoping my friends in the blogosphere triumph over their hardships.

After another nap, I whip up a satisfying supper from leftovers. Life feels pretty good right now. What I feel is love and connectedness to the world about me.

S Is For…

27 Tuesday Jun 2017

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Sitting, Shaming, Swimming.

At the Weight Watchers weigh in, I did weigh in at 203 lbs. This is a big personal victory.  My next weight loss goal is to weigh in under 200 lbs. But enough about weight, the real fun lies in doing the things that get me to my goal, eating well but sensibly, exercising, meaning swimming and not worrying.

Eating well today featured a bowl of pho, that great Vietnamese dish. I figured the Weight Watchers Smart Points©. I guesstimate about 11 and that didn’t sound bad. It was tasty,

I was all set to sit a bit today, but by the time my stepmother and I got to the Y, I was up for a swim. I cranked out 2500 meters. 

“Shaming” came into my mind as I considered sitting around while D my stepmother did her exercises. I think “shaming” is more a Millenial concept, but I can’t think of a better term for my sitting around while my 91 Year Old stepmother worked out. So I swam. And fully enjoyed every minute.

My swim over, I decided going to daily Mass at 5:30 would be next. Mass was most restorative for me. 

So here I am finally sitting, savoring the moment.

A Mentor Has Passed

19 Monday Jun 2017

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I saw this news on a blog I follow. Father Kauffmann brought me into the Catholic Church. He wrote my marriage annulment petitions that were accepted within a year, near record time in the world of annulments.  He died a few minutes ago.

His most recent blog posts recorded a pilgrimage he made following the footsteps of St Francis of Assisi through Umbria and Tuscany.

Hello, Jane Dudley, the blog editor here, passing along a message from Saint Bede Catholic Church in Williamsburg. Father Kauffmann is gravely ill. Please pray. Thank you. A MESSAGE FROM MONSIGNOR TIMOTHY E. KEENEY It is with a very heavy heart, Monsignor Keeney informs us that our very own Father James Kauffmann has been diagnosed […]

via Pray for Father Kauffmann — The Wonder of Truth

Treading Water

15 Saturday Apr 2017

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Well, not literally.  As water goes, I’ve been swimming fairly consistently.  I have swum for the last four days, 2500 meters each day, a total of a little over six miles.  The opportunity to exercise is the best aspect of retirement for me.  I would have made a marvelous English gentleman of La Belle Epoque .  They made an art of not working, a worthy avocation if there ever was one.

I have a fruit salad to make this morning to bring to my Thomistic Philosophy discussion group at Church.  Bananas, pineapple, strawberries, and maybe a pear or two, should make a tasty treat.  I’m so tempted to say “Eff-it!” and go buy some donuts, but this is the wiser course of action.

Mrs CorC? and I will attend the Easter Vigil Mass.  It has a quiet dignity that is quite compelling.  Maybe, if we are lucky, the choir will chant the Litany of Loretto, in Latin. Tomorrow we will go to brunch at the local Maggiano’s. We have gotten out of the habit of elaborate family get-togethers at Easter and Christmas because my sister, a church musician, has a pretty demanding schedule.

My dream is to have the family here.  That would require that we get the house presentable. Mrs CorC? has given no indication that this is a priority for her.  To be quite frank, I consider her reticence a lack of interest in my family and my needs. And I am hurt.  Communicating my needs is a fruitless activity, I’ve learned.

My needs.  Every damn day, I long for affection, sexual intimacy, a little politically incorrect banter.  However, I have the relationship/marriage that I have.  Any change will have to spring from both her and my own personal transformation.  Dammit.

Passion and Catharsis

07 Friday Apr 2017

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I have a confession to make.  I am an enormous sentimental slob. I love passionate  over-the-top operatic duets.  I just finished listening to Luciano Pavarotti and Maria Guleghina sing the finalé duet of Giordano’s masterpiece Andrea Chenier,  Vicino A Té .  I cried, emotionally overwhelmed.  I defy you not to cry.

Truth be told, we need this catharsis.  The characters in the story are sacrificing their lives for others in that orgy of violence, The Reign of Terror that ended The French Revolution.  Every time I turn on the TV,  a movie saturated with violence, a vulgar, comic-book violence, is  promoted. The news?  Brutality.  We have become inured to brutality.  We all have.

We Christians are approaching the critical event of our Faith, the Passion and Crucifixion of Our Lord.  I’ve heard the Passion Story countless times and I am still haunted by the sheer ruthlessness and brutality of  it.   It doesn’t fit well with the Gospel of Nice.  Human beings don’t come off particularly well.  Even Jesus’s friends abandon Him.  We prefer not to think of the evil we are capable of and we are quick to say “Not me. I’m not a party to this atrocity, this execution, this abortion, this genocide.”  And maybe not.  Until. Until we get to dispatch someone we truly loathe or we think “deserves what’s coming to him.”  Until we decide that that particular war, in Syria, or Yemen, or Nigeria, or Sudan, or Darfur, or Chechnya,  or Kurdistan, or Afghanistan isn’t our problem,  just as our grandparents or great-grandparents thought the wars in Manchuria or Ethiopia or Spain weren’t theirs.

We see the killing every damn day and we bottle the grief up.  The rage is fine. We get to be enraged and let that out, part of the unisex Machismo we all can claim, embrace, and revel in.

The tears I cry when Chenier and Maddalena face death, buttressed by their love, arise because I know that some things are greater than the offerings of this world.  And that even when Love appears to lose, it wins.

Burning Daylight

20 Monday Mar 2017

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Even though I am retired, I still believe I have to be doing something “useful”. There was this block on the report card in elementary school that said “Uses Time Wisely”. I knew that one better be checked  or there would be adverse outcomes at home.  Last night, I was tired, fell asleep next to MrsCorC?, while Christopher Guest’s Best In Show was on.  I love that film, but I dozed off anyway.  At its conclusion, Mrs CorC? announced that Downton Abbey would resume in the DVD player. I was now awake, unable to resume my sleep. I got up to brush my teeth.  While brushing, I realized I had yet to pray  The Rosary today. I blew that off with an “Oh well”, then started my flossing.

After my dental hygiene ritual, I went to the other bedroom, put my jammies on and started Bach’s St Matthew Passion on the CD player. It was about 11:10 PM, at which point I said, “Just go pray The Rosary anyway. No way are you sleepy!”. Downstairs I went and began, contemplating the Fruits of each Glorious Mystery; The Resurrection-Faith, The Ascension-Hope, Descent of The Holy Spirit-Love of God, The Assumption-Grace of a Happy Death, The Coronation-Trust in Mary’s Intercession.  Praying The Rosary gets me out of my head and my self-absorption.  Prayer rekindles my love for humanity and my concern for God’s Creation.

So I’m finally tired enough to go to sleep. And sleep I do.  Next thing I know it is 9:20 AM. MrsCorC? is getting ready for work and I am left wondering what to do with the day. Will I Use My Time Wisely, even though Mrs Shanholtz, my First Grade teacher, is not around to report on me?

I’m writing this blog post, perhaps going to an AA meeting, then I’m going swimming.  There’s straightening to do in anticipation of the FIOS/Verizon guy coming on Wednesday. There is dinner to fix.

Busy. Busy. Busy.  Who keeps score, now that Mrs Shanholtz isn’t around?

Requiescat In Pace: Mike

03 Friday Feb 2017

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In my most recent post Alternative Healing, I mentioned I went to the Seven AM Daily Mass at Mary, Mother of the Church Abbey. I saw my friend Mike M, a local dentist and very active Catholic.  When I came in to the Church in 2010, he led our RCIA ( Rite of Catholic Initiation for Adults) Class. After Mass we talked a bit. He told me he was praying The Rosary for a young man, who had just entered an alcoholism rehabilitation program.  He asked that I pray  The Rosary for this young man.  All in all, it was an unremarkable conversation with a man whose life is about service to God, His Church, and his fellow human beings.

Last night, I was checking my e-mails when one titled In Memoriam caught my eye. Expecting the deceased to be one of  several parishioners I knew to be in ill health, I was astonished to discover that Mike had died.  Driving down to the Evening Mass for Candlemas, he felt ill, pulled off the road and dialed 911. Taken to hospital he died of a massive heart attack, his aorta irreparably damaged.

The old cliches’ took over “You never know”. “He looked fine when I last saw him.”   You know them all. Mike was not quite 70.  He leaves a widow, two children, four grandchildren.  One of my most cherished memories of Mike was of  him leading his grandchildren in Grace before they ate their Happy Meals at McDonald’s one Sunday afternoon. He showed them how to make the Sign of the Cross before the Blessing started.

His life was about doing what matters.  We should all have such clarity and singleness of purpose.

May the souls of the Faithful Departed, especially Mike, by the Mercy of God, rest in Peace.

Penance and $2.04

19 Saturday Nov 2016

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Yesterday was Friday. As a Penance, we refrain from eating meat. Penance involves an act which seeks to turn our thoughts and lives toward God.  It is a challenge,  but not so much for finding meatless alternatives.  The challenge lies in choosing to not eat meat as a Penance in the first place.  Vatican II said you could eat meat, right?  Yes, it did, but one is obligated to choose another Penance as a substitute.  Penance, to most people, Catholic or not, is a foreign concept. If one cynically reduces religious observance and the devout life into some sort of cosmic and existential board game , replete with rewards and penalties, it is merely an absurd gesture among many absurd gestures. I see it as something more; leave it at that for now.

Having set the context, the admonition from Mrs CorC? yesterday morning was “Don’t go out and spend money for food I might not want to eat when I get home from work.” Good point.  What to fix then?  I do a quick check of items on hand,and decide on a mushroom and cheddar quiche with fried apples on the side. All that’s missing are mushrooms.

After a noon AA meeting and a meandering drive, debating whether to go to the library or not, I head to the store, then home. I see a package of fresh mushrooms for $1.99.  Mustering all the power of self-control a recovering alcoholic can possess, I pay for them, ignoring all else, especially the Thrift Bakery items. Total for trip is $2.04, with tax.

Upon arriving home, I get out the butter, lard and flour and prepare a pate’ brissee,  from The Joy of Cooking. Making the dough went quite well and I was recollecting a wonderful exchange with another blogger I had about this recipe a few months ago.  It needs to rest in the fridge for at least two hours, so I take this time to go for a four mile power walk around the neighborhood.

The walk went well. The shower felt great. I await Mrs CorC?’s return and finishing the meal prep.  I read from Sometimes She Lets Me, (Cleis Press, Tristan Taormino, Editor)  a collection of lesbian erotica.   Lesbian erotic writing is plain old good writing and not an insult to the intelligence, unlike much other erotic writing.  Upon arrival, she is tired and not completely unplugged from the work day. I leave her to chill and wait for her word to start supper.

Assembling the quiche was easy and fun. I made another major dent in the half gallon of milk I bought the other day, used up the shredded cheddar opened a couple of weeks ago, and got to use the white pepper I deemed an extravagance when I bought it.  The fried apples kind of morphed from rings to apple sauce. I think the Cortland apples  I used don’t cook well for that purpose, but they tasted great. Who cares, right?

My old friend back pain was there through most of yesterday.  But Life is good.