Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

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.

He said Catholic things. Things like this:

“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.

Now? It’s all gayness and heresy all the time.

Merry Christmas!

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.

STAY CONFESSED.

It’s almost Christmas!!!

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).

St. Rita, pray for us!