Amidst all the regular devotions to which I am… devoted(?) I almost overlooked a big one.
The month of May has traditionally been dedicated to the Blessed Mother.
Parishes had May Crownings. Trad parishes still do and, thankfully, a number of NO parishes also have revived this custom.
What a beautiful thing for us to teach our children and for us to learn from as well!
Crowning an image of the Blessed Mother is a great symbol of our love for her. Another great act of devotion for Our Blessed Lady is the prayerful recitation of the rosary – Our Lady’s Psalter. If you are not in the habit of praying the rosary, please, I beg of you, build the habit. I have heard it said that no man who truly prays the rosary every day will end up in hell. I would ask, “How could a man who is truly devoted to the Woman who is our model in all virtues ever not come to the joys of eternal life?” It seems a no-brainer.
So this month, this lovely month of May, make time for Our Blessed Mother. Spend a few moments extra each day meditating on the mysteries of the rosary. Meditate on her perfect humility. The devil hates that. He cannot stand her because her humility is the antithesis of his pride. When she is near to you, he will flee. Form the simple devotion of praying three Hail Mary’s first thing in the morning and last thing at night (and frequently throughout the day), imploring, “Oh my Mother, preserve me from mortal sin during this day!” at the end.
Our Lady, Queen of the Most Holy Rosary, pray for us!
Tomorrow, October 7, is the feast of the Most Holy Rosary.
I have been in the habit – as I know many of you are as well – of praying the complete 15 decade rosary for some time now. It started in March, St. Patrick’s Day to be exact. I had listened to a YouTube video of a sermon from Bishop Williamson.
“Watch and pray, watch and pray, fifteen decades every day!”
Those were the good bishop’s words and I committed then and there to offer this gift to Our Lady.
Rosary, stained glass, National Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, Emmitsburg, MD
Tomorrow I will offer my rosary – in addition to the usual intentions – for each of you reading this. A simple Ave in return is always appreciated.
This afternoon I began my trek home to the Lone Star State. This involved four people, seven bags, a rental car return, the return of a secondary vehicle is borrowed from a friend (in the opposite direction of the airport, several gin and tonics, and a connection through Charlotte.
When our flight departed from Dulles I immediately noticed that the woman next to me looked out the window and, as the tiny regional jet started its takeoff roll, she made the sign of the cross.
Seventh Sorrow of the Blessed Mother, mosaic on stone base, Shrine of Our Lady’s Martyrs, Auriesville, NY
I knew this was a kindred.
She must have seen me take out my beads because as we w ere landing she tapped me on the shoulder and asked – in broken English – if she could show me pictures of her recent travels.
As I stated at her screen, I immediately recognized the places although I have never been to any of them. The grotto at Lourdes, Notre Dame, abbey churches in England, the Sagrada in Spain… All magnificent Catholic shrines.
Don’t ever be afraid to wear your traditional Catholic faith aloud. You might just be sitting next to a fellow traveler.
During the 2020 GOP Convention I watched in awe as Sr. Dede Byrnes stood on a stage before a national audience, fully habited, and, holding high her rosary, proudly proclaimed that it was “her weapon”.
I marveled at that statement because I know just how true it is. Our Blessed Lady gave us this most magnificent ordnance to honor her, to fight heretics, and to help save our souls. She did so because, as a perfect Mother, she loves us. I remember my own dear mom once sending me out the door in the morning during a time when I was having trouble with a classmate. I wasn’t being bullied but I could tell this kid was crying for attention and that he might try to get it by making me feel insecure with his digs and taunts. I had just received a pretty bad haircut as I recall. I think I was 8. Mom gave me a kiss on the forehead, handed me my lunch money, and whispered, “Just remember Love, your hair will grow back. He’ll always be a dumb sh*t.” See? moms love their kids and give them the weapons they need. In my case it was a biting humor that came from the streets of Manhattan circa 1945. But Our Blessed Mother? She gives the best weapons.
And now in The Atlantic we read that the rosary is a “weapon for rad-trads” who consider it like their “AR-15”. So first, the author of that piece that shall not receive a link from me thinks he is insulting us by calling us “rad-trads”. I’ve been called worse by better people, you dumb sh*t. Rad… as in radical… as in deeply rooted. OK. I’m down with that. Trad… as in traditionalist… as in clinging to the eternal Truth? Yep, down with that too. And my AR? I thought you were trying to denegrate me. The AR is a great piece of weaponry. I’m fixin’ to get Psalm 42 etched onto my stock. Then she’ll be real purty.
In the end, we are told, all that will remain is the rosary and the “sign of my Son”. For several months in 2020, the rosary WAS all we had. I will let those beads out of my hands when I’m cold and dead. Oh wait, no I won’t. They’re going in the ground with me.
A dear reader wrote me recently and mentioned that she prays all 15 in Latin every day. Barnhardt mentioned that in a post as well. I began the practice myself during Lent. Do it. Make the time. You will NOT be disappointed. Get out there and fight like a man for your Mother.
The Results are In and You’re Gettin’ a Podcast!
You are all so, so lucky. I couldn’t write that with a straight face. Still, I am encouraged by the poll results. 90% of you responded that you would make time to listen to my voice. 2 people responded with the obvious joke answer “hell no”. I tracked their IP addresses. I think there are some angry V2 faggycollars reading this blog. ‘Nuff said on that. Either way, I hope to get started recording in the next week. If anyone reading has any specific tech-y advice, I’m all ears. I’ve done this once before by recording Zoom calls and uploading the audio but I’d be interested to hear what else is out there.
High altar, St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church, Dallas, TX
Magnificat!
A final word tonight regarding whatever it is that Antipope Bergoglio said in reference to Our Lady’s stirring hymn of praise – the Magnificat. “An overturning of values”? Reminds me so much of my seminary days when we discussed how the liberation theologians hopped on the Magnificat and interpreted it as a statement of social justice par excellence. They fail to see that the Blessed Mother was in fact making the most humble statement ever proclaimed. “He has lifted up His lowly servant… The Almighty has done great things for me… Holy is His name…” But yeah, I could see how someone might hear “overthrow the capitalist pigs” in there too I guess.
Just remember, friends, you can always learn to understand Scripture in the light of the Holy Ghost and the Tradition of the Church. The others? They’ll always be dumb sh*ts.
About two weeks ago I remarked to my wife that several things were both odd and imminent at the same time.
1.) Joe Byron (AKA: Tuesday Pudding) and his minions/handlers need something on the level of Spring 2020 Coof-o-rama Drama to re-emerge on a national level pretty soon in order to implement national mail-in balloting. They need this in order to steal the next set of elections.
2.) Coof-o-rama is totally coming back.
The next day I got a message from my son’s boss. Side note, my 14 year-old son makes me proud every day. He actually wants to work. He found himself a job. It isn’t much and the pay isn’t great but it suits him and, at his age, it’s about the best he’ll get. He has told me that he knows a man’s job is to work hard to provide for his wife and kids or otherwise to work hard as a priest who says mass every day and hears confessions for many hours. Love that young man. Anyway, the boss informed me that my son’s supervisor, a 24 year-old young man, had “tested positive” for the Chinese sniffles.
“That’s odd,” thought I… It’s late June. He didn’t appear sick when I saw him earlier in the day. Also, it’s late June.
Three days later, a friend of mine texted to tell me that she and two of her daughters had all tested positive for Wuhan Wing Wang. Of her two girls, the younger is 14 months-old.
Again, simply odd. A 14 month-old?
This is bullshit as my sister’s yellow lab Bates would say. Of course, he says it under his breath and in dog.
I immediately connected the dots and told my wife. First, why in the world is anyone getting tested for this nonsense at this point? You KNOW the tests are all engineered to report whatever the hell they want to hear. If you’re under the weather, take your viatmins, get some sun (remember it is now JULY), grab your Ivermectin, and get well.
Also, isn’t it funny how, after a lull, this gay virus is roaring back like a drag queen being pushed out of a library by a group of real men with kids? He’ll be thrashing and fur and feathers will fly but in the end, if we hold firm, we can drive him back to the pit of hell.
So today I came across the following news from Texas while I was enjoying sleeping in on my vacation in Florida. By the way, sleeping in doesn’t actually exist since I get up every morning at 6 for the Angelus. Fr. Ripperger mentioned doing that in a video. He said it is particularly powerful at protecting a man’s family from demonic attack. Who am I to argue?
Hide your wife, hide your kids!
So anyway, listen, don’t say you didn’t know. What can we do about it? Well for starters, don’t get one of those ridiculous tests. Here I’ll save you the trouble. It’s positive. There you go. If you’re sick, take your vitamins and get into the sun. I cannot repeat that enough. Don’t you dare wear that Masonic face burqa. Say your prayers. Men, triple your efforts. We’re in this together. 15 decades. Every day. It’s that important if you love your family. Live your life. Pray for the reactivation of your confirmation. in particular ask God to give you strength (physical and spiritual) and wisdom. GO TO MASS. EVERY DAY. THE ROMAN MASS.
The evil ones spell out their plans because it gets them off. Use that knowledge and make your plans.
Remember that the great saints prayed to live in our times. And here we are.
On my nightstand sits a tiny leather-bound book. This book was first published sometime around the year 1418. It features print appropriately small enough to match the 3″ X 5″ dimensions of the book itself (and just small enough for my aging eyes to strain each time I look at it). The size of the book is useful, though, in this one regard. It can easily be taken wherever one goes as it fits in most pockets.
The book, of course, is the classic Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis.
I first came across this book for use in my own spiritual reading about three years ago. I had just recently started attending the traditional mass when a student of mine mentioned that he had been given a copy of the book for his birthday. He thought I would find it insightful. I’m very grateful he suggested it.
Yesterday I mentioned that I would be looking more in-depth at seminary formation over the past few decades. I figure this is as good a place as any to start. In my own time in seminary, the devotional life was never discussed. I recall that things of this nature were understood to be between the seminarian and his spiritual director. In fact, the then-prevailing thought was (at least it was understood to be) that devotions as such were gifts giving by the Holy Ghost to each Christian. In other words, if you didn’t have a particular devotion, it probably wasn’t a devotion meant for you and that was apparently fine. And while I am sure someone with a much higher intellect like, say, a Fr. Ripperger, could expound upon that statement and parse its meaning in such a way that it might line up with a traditional Catholic understanding of charism, the statement itself is misleading. Devotion itself is a hallmark of the Catholic faith. More to the point, the devotional life must be fostered. How can anyone be expected to have any devotions at all if they are not taught, nourished, and fostered? I still remember my parents teaching me the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be as a four year-old child on our front porch one summer evening. Guess what three prayers are still my go-to for every moment in life? And that’s because the people I love and trust taught me to love and to trust in this manner.
But that’s how it was.
And for a long time after leaving the seminary I did not give it much thought. I knew what my own particular devotions were and I saw them as gifts from God. My dad taught me by example to go to mass every day. We had our family rosary. I have a strong devotion to St. Rita of Cascia. To each his own, I thought.
Then I began to meet some truly holy priests – mean who love their spiritual sons and daughters.
Statue of the Blessed Mother giving the rosary to St. Dominic, St. Dominic’s Catholic Church, San Francisco
Through the proliferation of materials online in videos of conferences and sermons and retreats and of course through exposure to traditional devotions and classics of spiritual reading, I was exposed to a kind of piety I had only rarely encountered before. I do not mean to imply that only traditional priests possess this piety at all as I do know some truly holy priests who have not yet discovered the great blessing of the ancient mass. But it became obvious to me that the priests of tradition had been formed differently certainly than I had been.
Then I came across the following from the New York Times from 1977. A mere decade after the close of the Council and the effects were clearly being seen in how priests were being trained. The article is about the seminary I would come to attend. For context, in 1977 the seminary was on a beautiful country estate. A few years later, due in part to dwindling numbers, the seminary moved to the main campus of the diocesan university. Then-rector Fr. Ed Ciuba, is quoted here breathlessly exuding his joy that men were no longer trained as they had been in the “dark ages”.
“To dramatize the change in preparing men for the priesthood, Father Ciuba cited two books, “Imitation of Christ,” which was used when the “rugged individuals” of the 1920’s and 1930’s were seminarians, and “Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood,” which is used today.
“Imitation of Christ” stressed “a very strong personal relationship with God,” Father Ciuba said, while the current text takes into account “how culture influences our spirituality, how the seminarian finds his relationship to God in and through his relationship to his fellow priests, his relationship to his friends and to lay people.”
“Mahwah Seminary Marks 50 Years, James Lynch, NYT, 1977”
Folks, if you want to know anything at all about many of the priests ordained from the 1970’s onward, just re-read that quote. Their formators decided it would be better for these young men that they develop social skills than develop a “very strong personal relationship with God”. And because God knows how to work even with these worst of intentions, some solid men still made it through. Perhaps they were reading one of these tiny copies of Imitation of Christ on the sly. They do, as mentioned, easily slip into one’s pocket.
I am happy to have been exposed to such devotion myself. I’m happy that kid told me to get a copy of Imitation of Christ. I’m happy my parish priests tend to the devotional life of our parish, for devotion is nothing more than an outward display of love, and love for God is the first commandment.
In the seminary, devotions were not taught. They were not nourished. They were not fostered.
Don’t even get me started on the optional once-weekly rosary. Not kidding in the least. Today, many years later, I have learned once again to carry my beads in my pocket at all times so that this symbol of my love for the Blessed Mother and her love for me is always on my person.
It’s almost as if this was all but one pillar in a larger plan to destroy the priesthood and then the Church radically transform the faith to make it more accessible to the modern world (and less in love with God).
So here’s the story about that picture I posted earlier this week.
Two weeks ago at this very hour yours truly was driving around the DFW Metroplex. During the day I am a teacher and school administrator. At night, however, I still maintain my other job as a medical courier. I don’t usually have Friday jobs, it’s just a slow night of the week. But this particular Friday night I got called to pick up a sample at a lab in north Dallas. On my way out to the airport I decided to make use of the time to pray.
Traveling south on the President George Bush Turnpike (yes, they use the full name as it was constructed during the gubernatorial administration of his son) I drove along, praying my rosary. I’m a pretty safe driver – never been in anything more than a minor fender-bender. I was praying for a few specific things. You see my car, a 2006 Accord, was starting to show its age and I had begun to think it was time to move on. “Blessed Mother,” I said summoning all best Catholic school boy piety I could muster. It never goes away. “Blessed Mother, I could really use a new car.” Trust me, friends, Mary is the Queen of Heaven and Earth. There is nothing she can’t obtain for us from her Son. Of this I am certain. But there’s also no guaranteeing how she’s going to go about doing that.
I was just about to toss in the part about the F-150 and in my mind I was thinking about color options (hint: a car should only ever be black or silver, possibly navy) when I looked up into my rear view mirror and saw a smaller, older pick up truck barreling toward me.
“Not like that!” I shouted as I frantically looked around to the two outside lanes. It was rush hour traffic, though, and there was nowhere to move. I braced for impact and in a second it was all over. The driver of the pickup wasn’t paying attention, caught himself at the last minute, and hit his breaks. He slammed into the back of my car and shoved me into the car in front of me. No airbags deployed so the impact speed must have been low enough. The three of us moved over to the shoulder and then waited for the police to show up.
The other two drivers barely had a nick on their cars. My Accord? Let’s just say it resembled an accordion. Hey, that’s kind of clever…
Anyway, I had the car towed home where a few days later an inspector came out to officially declare it a total loss. It’s obnoxious that someone else screwed up and I’m out a car but that’s life.
Today the second of two insurance checks arrived. I’ve been doing my research. Truthfully that F-150 isn’t totally out of the question, albeit a model that might be 3-4 years old with a few miles on it but that’s cool. I’ve learned all about the fun and exciting world of auto insurance as well. And to be honest, my agent, Steve Martinez with Safeco (props to him) was thoroughly professional and got the process rolling with good speed. The pickup driver admitted fault so that helped. But it still stinks.
That 13 year old car with 200K of my best driving miles on it was a sure bet for me. I’m sure it would have gone another 100,000 miles too. Instead I’m holding two checks for a minimal amount and a vision of a larger, newer vehicle dancing around my head.
And that prayer to the Infant of Prague I posted about earlier? Yep, that’s one of the intentions. I hear that devotion is particularly powerful. Nonetheless, I looked at that car on the shoulder of the highway two weeks ago and thought of something. In my own lifetime, in the recent past, a wreck like that would have taken someone out. Everyone had a seatbelt on and somehow we all walked away without scratches or injury.
For the possibility of landing in my dream car For the Blessed Mother’s humor For the grace of walking away from a serious accident and appreciating all the good things I have; coming home to my wife and kids and not heading to an ICU… For these I am grateful.
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 is a funny, witty and interesting read. Want to know what's going on in the world of Harvey? Then make a point to subscribe to his blog! You just never know when those pesky Weebles will show up. Hmmm, speaking of Weebles - haven't heard from them in a while (wink). Seriously, you just never know what to expect and whatever you find, it never disappoints! -- Debbi Robertson @ Photos and Facets
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 