Monthly Archives: December 2023

I have shared this video before but it bears sharing again. I will have a priest with me at my New Year’s Eve party tonight. I will ask his blessing upon me and my family and we will pray the Divine Praises together.

“Blessed be God.
Blessed be His Holy Name.
Blessed be Jesus Christ, true God and true Man.
Blessed be the Name of Jesus.
Blessed be His Most Sacred Heart.
Blessed be His Most Precious Blood.
Blessed be Jesus in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.
Blessed be the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete.
Blessed be the great Mother of God, Mary most Holy.
Blessed be her Holy and Immaculate Conception.
Blessed be her Glorious Assumption.
Blessed be the name of Mary, Virgin and Mother.
Blessed be St. Joseph, her most chaste spouse.
Blessed be God in His Angels and in His Saints.
Amen.”

The transcription form Apple isn’t great but you get the point. I have mentioned having been a premium member to CM years ago. We’re talking I cancelled my membership in 2016. Think they’re hurting for cash? My neighbor and fellow parishioner back in Texas got the exact same voicemail around the same time.

Pathetic.

Don’t give them a penny. They are failing in transparency for starters (there is no shortage of evidence for this fact online).

Where’s Gary and what’s he up to? Where are your financials? These are questions I’d want an answer to before opening my wallet. But you do you.

I have returned to the Fatherland (New Jersey) for New Year’s Eve with the family.

While flying in today with my wife and kids, I snapped a picture of a stunning building.

That, my friends, is where I was born.

Today is the feast of the Holy Innocents.

Listen to the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles sing the lullaby for these martyrs.

In honor of the feast of St. John, here’s a video of a man who really liked is wine.

That question is right up there with “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” Most people think the answer is, “Practice, practice, practice…” But only savvy New Yorkers know that it requires taking the right cutoff at Columbus circle.

Where was I?

Ah yes! I seem to have recovered my sleep nicely, thank you.

Today we celebrated the feast of the Porto-martyr, St. Steven. If you did not already know, it was on the feast of Steven, that good King Wenceslaus looked out. He apparently gazed upon the snow, deep, and crisp, and even. Here in Texas, no snow for me, although the weather is not bad for Christmas. It’s been a bit chilly.

But I got to gaze upon something far better. I gazed upon a small square of transparent cloth covering a screen, on the other side of which sat a priest of Jesus Christ who forgave my sins.

Unlike Steven, I may not die a martyr for my Lord so I need to be prepared whenever He decides to call me back home.

I keep a running list on my phone. Every time I hit the box, I mark the date and location. Since January 1 of this year I have been 54 times. And never under any circumstances let anyone – let alone a priest – dissuade you from frequent confession. The year’s not over yet. I’m not aiming for scrupulosity. But I know these are bizarre times in which we live. Do you know who does not want you to confess your sins? If you said Satan, you’d be right on the money and get a gold star.

Of course, resolving to amend your life is also key. but never ever neglect the sacrament of penance.

I told my daughter after midnight Mass as we were walking to the car that I never can sing Christmas carols at the midnight Mass. Since it’s a TLM, we only sing carols before the Mass and one afterwards. She asked me why. There are many reasons. It certainly is not because I don’t love Christmas and singing carols. No, I always think of the number of children I’ve known who were taken home to God so young. From my dear twin sister to several nieces and a great nephew… One is too many. And I have shared this story before of how my late brother-in-law and I kept vigilant at the crib of one of those nieces – my sister’s daughter who was born with anencephaly. She was supposed to live a few hours and stuck around five days. My brother-in-law said to me, “Every child deserves one Christmas.” So to keep ourselves awake at 4 in the morning we sang to her every Christmas carol we knew.

But it is the one line in one of my favorites that pierces me through every time. The tune – haunting in its melody – is one of the oldest melodies in Western culture – Greensleeves. We know the song as What Child is This. Those of us who are parents, and especially us fathers know how magnificently humbling, beautiful, and peaceful the birth of a child is. As a dad, I knew the moment my son was born that God had given me a gift, a treasure, and a responsibility that I could never handle if not for His grace. That tiny human, so perfect and innocent, needed me to protect him with my life.

If I did right by him, I knew he would enjoy length of days.

So it is that line in the song, “Nails, spears shall pierce Him through; the cross be born for me, for you,” that turns me into a quivering fool.

Think about it. A beautiful baby Boy (He must have been particularly stunning as He is divine) lies wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger surrounded by His mother, His protector, some shepherds, cattle, sheep, and the glorious host of heavenly angels. In the stillness of the silent night… He knows and she knows.

Nails, spears shall pierce Him through.

The cross be born for me, for you.

Today I encountered Him as He forgave my sins at the cost of His Blood.

Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bone voluntatis!

I need sleep.