“In the child Jesus, The defenselessness of God is apparent. He comes without weapons, because he does not want to conquer us from outside but desires to win and transform us from within. If anything can conquer man’s vainglory, his violence, his greed, it is the vulnerability of the child. God assumed this vulnerability in order to conquer us and lead us to Himself.”
Actually, Joseph Ratzinger said things like this even before he was pope but you get the picture.
We’ve reached the end, folks. And since this is the shortest Advent we could possibly have, we have the delightful situation of one purple candle that has barely been touched. I even asked one of our priests tonight if Sunday’s Mass is the Mass of the fourth Sunday or the Vigil of Christmas. Turns out, it’s the Vigil (even though it is undeniably the fourth Sunday of Advent).
My point in showing this lone, unljghted candle is to serve as a reminder once again…
There may not be time to light that candle, if you catch my drift.
When He comes again, He will catch us all by surprise.
This past Ash Wednesday I listened to a talk by Fr. Ripperger on manliness. In it he stated that “It is through his prayers, sufferings, and good works offered to God that a husband and father sanctifies his family. “
Profound words. Not often discussed. Just what I needed to hear.
I made an effort that day to henceforth ask Our Lord every morning to illumine my mind and strengthen my will that I might pray better. I asked Him to sustain me in my fasts and sufferings that I might embrace my cross and live true penance. And I asked Him to send me good works to do that I might offer all of these for my wife and children.
He never disappoints.
At first I began to notice funny things like the mother of my daughter’s best friend texting me to ask if I could help her out by picking up her kids after school. She had injured her foot and wasn’t supposed to be driving. Then it became a bit more pronounced. A good friend of mine came to me with a personal problem that required hours of my time over many weeks to assist him through – mostly just listening and offering my humble advice.
But I never imagine that He would give me such a good work that I didn’t even recognize it for its beauty. For you see, it was not only a delight but also the greatest of blessings to me.
Right after Easter, still asking Our Lord for those good works to do, I heard that one of our priests was in the hospital. Without thinking of what I was saying, I asked one of the other priests if Father was taking visitors. Mom and Dad taught me the works of mercy. They lived them. They told us that Christ expects us to live them too. They told me that He wasn’t just fooling around when He said “Whensoever you do these things for the least of My brethren, you do it for Me.”
And that began my nine month journey of a “good work” that I never saw as such because He made me to love this particular work. He gave me parents who trained me to do this and, I suppose, a heart disposed to such things.
This afternoon I knelt before the casket of that old priest. He was vested in purple and his beautiful, anointed hands clutched a large wooden rosary. That was the rosary he had tried to bless me with the day before he died, when he could no longer raise his hand. And that was the hand I kissed in reverence to his priesthood and in thanksgiving and awe for this man who shared so much with me over the past few months.
I think of how beautiful his life was on earth. And I think of how each of us – including him – needs prayers. I remember the wonderful harsh penances he used to give me in confession when he didn’t know who I was. Those were the first instances I had ever received a true penance for my sins. And those moments by his bedside were the moments where I felt like I was the one who was truly blessed.
I don’t often get emotional. But tonight I did.
I had already said good bye to him last week when I knew he would be gone before I could return. My last words to him were, “Good bye, Father. We all love you very much. I hope I will see you again…”
And again I say, “Good bye, Fr. Buckley! So many people love you so very much. I truly hope I will see you again. Thank you for letting me perform a few ‘good works’ with you. My wife and children thank you. And I will remember you forever.”
May he rest in peace!
Please, if you read this, in your charity offer prayers and penances for his eternal repose. I have a feeling we’ve got an even greater treasure on our hands now that he is gone from this world.
Earlier, while putting up some remaining decorations around the house, I had my AirPods in and listened to some YouTube videos. The folk(s) at Sensus Fidelium have very good content – solid sermons and whatnot. I let the playlist keep rolling a sermon on the duties of husbands and wives toward one another came on. I thought, “OK… No difficulties here in this house but I’m sure it’s worth a listen.” So I let it play.
About halfway through, our young preacher mentions that there is a model to imitate for those in difficult marriages. Take a listen.
Folks, she pops up all the time.
Speaking of, remember, you are in my perpetual novena to her (and specifically if you’ve sent me an intention or two).
I was thinking of how my life is currently in one of those “busy phases” where things some to be happening all the time. That made me think of the old busy signal one would get if he called someone on the phone but that other person’s line was otherwise engaged. Then I realized my kids have probably never heard a busy signal. I promise I am not old.
I am posting this from 7 miles above earth, so it’ll be a quick hit tonight.
Two things.:
1) The flight crew now routinely instruct passengers not to look for fallen electronic devices on their own. We should “contact a flight attendant” if we drop an AirPod. Are you joking? Then you might discover that I’ve been listening to Carly Simon’s Haven’t Got Time for the Pain. Hey, it’s been a long travel day with a stop through Detroit.
2) I was seated early so I got to people watch. I witnessed a young man in a fur coat walk down the aisle to his seat. The most disappointing thing here is that he was not a 1970’s TV street pimp. Instead it was just a product of the current year – a simp soyboy.
Folks, I got off all that social media nonsense a while ago. Sorry but I'm not on Twitbook, Facepalm, YouHu, WingWang or any of the others. Maybe an event will happen to make me change my mind like Peter and Paul coming down with flaming swords and commanding it be so. Until then, read the blog and if you feel a comment is in order or you feel like sharing a tip or suggestion for a topic, email me at harvey@harveymillican.com.
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 