Seriously, friends… I worked in that industry (broadcast news) for a few years. Take it from me. If it bleeds out of its whatever, it leads – to mash up a Trumpian phrase with an old news maxim.
Listen to what she said and how she said it.
“Inside the Vatican, moments ago, we saw a ton of cardinals, which our guide tells us is highly unusual.”
Highly unusual? You can’t swing a dead cat by its tail in the Vatican without seeing “a ton of cardinals”.
I’m not even getting into her truly retarded “reporting” that a “priest or a bishop or someone came into the Sistine Chapel and gave a blessing” and that this, too, is “highly unusual”.
Let’s review a few things.
1.) Bergoglio will not resign. He’s a Peronist. He’s a diabolical narcissist. He’s holding onto this as long as he can.
2.) Even if he did “resign”, he’s not the pope so it will mean nothing more than another faux-conclave while the one and only Vicar of Christ on earth, Pope Benedict XVI continues to reign whether he likes it or not.
3.) Megyn Kelly… She gets Harvey’s Gold Star for Dummies for the day!
Good job, Megyn!
I’m going to leave that one there as I’m headed out to Adoration. I was going to say “Megan Kelly is a twit,” but thought better of it. Our Lord is waiting for me and my son to keep Him company, to console Him, and to ask Him for our hearts’ desires. That thought gives me chills.
My Father’s Day was a blast. Started the day with early mass. Got a seat right up front with my wife and kids. My daughter made me breakfast. We went swimming. I grilled. My wife and kids gave me the most amazing gifts. I am truly thankful.
And I am thankful for something even more. I am thankful to God for sharing the gift of His Paternity with me. In making me a father, He placed it upon me to be the man who will teach my family about Him. He tasked me with representing Him to them. My children will come to know God through me if I do a good job. No pressure there. Half the time I can’t find my car keys but I am thankful. And humbled.
Speaking of Humility
After the merriment of today, celebrating with my offspring that I offsprung them, I get to take part in what has become one of the great joys of my life. My mother-in-law reminded me that our parish began a week of Adoration tonight. Everyone was pretty much in bed when I grabbed my keys (I did find them!) and headed towards the front door. My teenage son popped out of his room.
“Where are you going, Dad?” he asked.
“Adoration,” I replied.
“I’ll come with.”
No arguments here. On the drive I had a chat with him. He was a little vexed about his sister going out to breakfast in the morning with my sister who’s visiting us. He won’t be able to join due to a prior commitment. But who doesn’t enjoy a breakfast outing?
“I wouldn’t worry about it, son,” I said. “You get to do something far more wonderful.” Then I reminded him where we were going. “Our Lord is waiting right now for us. He knew that we would come to see Him. He’s known it since before there was a time to be remembered.” I thought about the gospel this morning. A man held a great feast and invited many. Everyone made excuses. Then he sent for the poor and lame. They came but still there was room. “Go into the highways and hedges and bring in those who are there!” he ordered.
Shrine of the Miraculous Medal, St. Catherine Laboure Church, Harrisburg, PA
Until recently I was the one who made excuses about Adoration. I need my rest. I have things to do. God wants me to tend to these other things.
I won’t judge anyone for saying the same things. But something became more serious for me when I began to understand the sacrifice Our Lord made even deeper than I had throughout my life. I came to understand It through the ancient mass, by the way. Notice a theme? I started reading more and praying more. And I started wanting to see Him more.
I’ll tell you what I told my boy.
“The Creator of the universe is waiting in that humble church for you and me to come spend a few moments with him. He’s giving us a chance to ask Him blessings and tell Him we’re sorry for our sins. He’s giving us to atone for our own sins and the sins of others – especially during this month. The proud have their pride. He waits veiled in humility. Don’t you think that at our judgments [his and my particular judgments] He’ll remember that He waited and no one came but us? And if these people we’re passing on this busy highway and in these fast food joints and whatnot; if they knew and understood what This was, they’d crawl over broken glass to join us?”
I can be eloquent on the fly.
But it’s all true. And it’s beautiful. And it’s good. It’s good for us to be here with Our Lord. I will tell Him that I pray His blessing on each of you reading this now and I hope you will pray for me.
He waited over 40 years for me to come spend time with Him. He waits for you too.
May the Heart of Jesus in the Most. Leased Sacrament be praised, adored, and loved with grateful affection at every moment, in all the tabernacles of the world, and in the hearts of all men, even until the end of time! Amen.
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).
I have just returned home from one of the most edifying experiences of my life – a sung mass and procession for the Feast of Corpus Christi.
*A note for the unfamiliar: in the traditional calendar, this feast is celebrated on the Thursday following Trinity Sunday (not on Sunday as in the NO calendar).
I wish I could accurately describe to you my experience tonight but words fail me; and I never have a hard time with words.
There were a number of First Communions. There was a procession. The gold vestments, the incense, the chant… How does one put into earthly language the presence of the divine? And it’s really no different at every other mass. There was something about the solemn focus tonight that really drove home the point.
Our Lord, like the “good pelican” (see Barnhardt’s latest for the reference), feeds us with His Body and Blood. The Communion verse taken from I Corinthians tells us that “As often as you shall eat this Bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until He comes.”
And that’s the difference between trad and non-trad.
The focus must always be on commemorating His Passion and Death until He returns to us in glory. Why? Because it is His Passion and Death that is the Sacrifice by which we are saved. Hear that? The Sacrifice. Nothing else is or could be acceptable to the Father. The Second Person of the Trinity became man to die and to offer Himself as a recompense for our sins.
And He renews that sacrifice at every mass.
It is not a recreation. It is not a representation.
It. Is. Calvary.
And the Bugnini rite, for whatever reason, ok let’s not pretend… It was nefarious. The Bugnini rite obscures that sacrifice. The venerable mass of the ages exalts and explicates it.
Not sure what I’m saying or if tradition is “rite” for you? Take the challenge. Find a TLM. Commit to going for a month. Follow the book or don’t. Let your senses inform your soul that Our Lord’s selfsame sacrifice is unfolding before your eyes.
Go to confession. Receive Him worthily lest, as St. Paul assures us, you eat His Body unto your own condemnation.
And when He is enthroned in your own flesh as King of the hearts of all poor, struggling sinners He promises to be, tell Him you desire to love Him with all your heart and ask Him to look upon you as though your love for Him was already perfect. Whisper your innermost thoughts to Him. Give Him thanks. Ask Him to draw you up to His cross with Him.
He Is Truth.
He has promised He will.
Then proclaim with all the saints and angels and Mary, their Queen and ours the words of Aquinas:
It should come as no surprise to readers of this blog that I spend a decent portion of my online time scanning through the headlines on Frank Walker’s Canon 212 website. I first heard of Walker and Canon212 a few years ago. I had been in contact with writer George Neumayer (seriously not dropping names) and he mentioned the site as “the Catholic Drudge Report”. Having worked in news, I knew that the term had nothing to do with what has or has not become of Matt Drudge. Clearly he’s either sold out, been offed, or had a break with reality. No, about 20 years ago, I can attest that Drudge was THE homepage on every terminal in our New York City newsroom. If it was on Drudge today, it would be everywhere else soon enough.
So, first, a huge thanks to Mr. Walker! Ann Barnhardt, in one of her podcasts said of him, “the man has a work ethic beyond compare.” I’m paraphrasing but the sentiment is shared and it’s true.
This morning after I finished my workout in the blistering Texas sun – and it was only 10:30 AM – I opened the browser on my phone and looked at the top link. The headline read simply: “Crazy Tik Tok VirusChurch Francis Adoration“. Please only click that link if you want to be as nauseated as I was.
What the embedded video shows appears to be some hideous dance ritual performed with a priest and several vested girls. The priest is manhandling a monstrance. The monstrance has (what I must assume is) a consecrated Host in it. So again, that means Our Lord Himself was being gyrated, thrusted, and tossed about in some kind of bizarre pseudo-Bacchanalian routine for the social media camera phones.
Magdalene was despondent. “They have taken my Lord and I do not know where they have placed Him.
I’m just livid. They have taken my Lord and treated Him like garbage.
I showed this clip to my wife who asked why this in particular would upset me any more than any of the other myriad abuses we’ve witnessed throughout our lives. We’re in our 40’s. I still remember Sr. Marie and the altar girls when I was a kid. If it hadn’t been for the solid faith my parents transmitted to me and the formation they gave me, I probably would have bailed loooong ago.
The reason why this one made me sick is because the more time I spend with my Lord – at mass, His sacrifice; meditating on His passion; simply staring at a crucifix; and yes, at Adoration – the more I love Him and desire union with Him. And I want that for my family. And tradition helped me understand this better than anything ever has. Connecting with the ancient worship of my faith – the one, true, faith – opened my eyes.
Tabernacle, Our Lady of Good Counsel, Newark, NJ
You hear that Excellencies? For years we’ve heard you… “Who would want to attend this outdated ‘thing’ that they never even knew? We tried to kill it once before specifically for this purpose! Now go back to your Novus Ordo, V2 parishes with your dancers and bubbles and, and…” To that I say what I said to a priest who denied me Communion during the coof-o-rama simply because I knelt before him and stuck out my tongue. He demanded, “Stick out your hands! Your hands!!!” I replied softly…
“I can’t.”
My goodness… they pranced the Creator of the Universe around like He was a dime-a-dance burlesque showgirl. They tossed Him like He was a toy balloon at a county fair or Robert Preston’s baton in the final scene of The Music Man.
They treated my Lord like they just don’t care.
It’s almost as if they don’t really believe He’s Truly Present.
Lord Jesus Christ, King of Everlasting Glory, I desire to love Thee with all my heart. Please look upon me from Thy cross with mercy and love. Give me to atone for the abuses to Thy Sacred Body.
Someone asked me recently about the header image on this page. I assume you’re looking at it now. If not, go ahead. I’ll wait…
I’ve written this blog since 2008. True, most of my older posts have been archived. They were more for my kids to read one day and learn about their early life and all the fun things we did as a family. I’m very proud of that writing and I hope one day my kids will look with as much fondness on those time as I had when writing about them. Recently the focus of my writing shifted a bit. My life has shifted a bit. Prior to a few weeks ago the header was a funny picture of my Jack Russell Terrier. He was sitting in my lap in stopped traffic on an interstate in Texas. He had his paws on the steering wheel as though he was driving the car. Now, that image has been replaced with what you see above. And what you see is a home altar set for the Traditional Latin Mass. Believe me, I prefer mass in a church; but you see there was this snowstorm in Texas that knocked out power for a few days. When a flurry falls in the Lone Star State all roads become impassable. We happened to have a priest-friend visiting. All flights were cancelled so he stayed and said mass for us every day. If you look carefully you’ll see the altar cards (printed from my laptop and framed in the kids’ old piano recital frames), a statue of the Blessed Mother, crucifix, paintings of St. Joseph and the Christ Child and (again) of the Blessed Mother, two candles (low mass) made of beeswax and blessed using the traditional forms, and my favorite, an old copy of the 1970’s-era Worship hymnal used to prop up the Canon of the mass. How’s that for irony? Couple it with the clearly-visible snow out the window and it’s not a bad picture.
So, not to sound like one of those crazy traddy conspiracy nuts but… shhh… *Are you prepared for home mass? It’s not hard to get your home ready. Thanks to Bergoglio and “TC” it may become more of a thing down the road than you think. It may not either. Either way, it’s not a bad idea to be prepared.
2) He’s Still Not Pope, Just in Case You Forgot
In the epistle at mass this morning we heard this:
“And the multitude of men and women who believed in the Lord increased still more, so that they carried the sick into the streets and laid them on beds and pallets that, when Peter passed, his shadow at least might fall on some of them.”
Acts 5
My source in Rome tells me (though any quick image search tells you all you need to know) that crowds gathered in St. Peter’s Square or the serpentine audience hall nearby are simply not what they used to be. Imagine that the early Christians hoped simply that Peter’s shadow might fall on them. Today people just don’t seem interested. Could it be they know this guy ain’t Peter? Oh for the days of on unimpeded see!
3) What to Ponder Daily
Also in the missal is a prayer entitled “Subjects for Daily Meditation”. I love this one because it’s short and to the point. The prayer begins “Remember Christian that today thous hast…” and then lists off a dozen or so subjects for daily meditation. God to worship, the angels and saints to invoke, etc. The most striking, to me, is the line “judgment to face”. This is certainly very true and not something most of us want to think about. But how necessary it is TO think about it.
This past Sunday morning, while driving along a quiet stretch of I-20 in Alabama, I noticed a yellow Ryder moving truck parked perpendicular to the travel lanes. The truck was in that triangular area between where the highway continues and an exit ramp splits off. In New Jersey we used to refer to it as the “zebra stripes” but I think the Federal Highway Administration calls it the “gore”. As I got within 1/8 mile of this truck, the driver did something I was not expecting. He gunned his engine and darted straight onto the highway. It appears he had come the wrong way down the ramp, realized his (incredibly obvious) mistake, and decided the through lanes were the ideal spot for a giant U-turn. It also appears he did NOT see me barreling toward him in a Yukon at 85 MPH. No flex, it was a rental. A calm came over me as I said, “Honey, brace yourself,” to my wife seated beside me. And then, I promise you, my best friend, my guardian angel took the wheel and fishtailed me through that yellow blur. I just remember almost going off the road into a ditch and coming right back into the lane I was in as if nothing had happened. My niece from the back seat asked if I had taking tactical driving lessons from the FBI.
My life did not “flash before my eyes”. I had just been to mass. I try to make use of weekly confession. But in the time after that near-death experience I thought to myself, “Was I truly prepared?” I think the answer for all of us should be to live as though we could stand before the Just Judge at any moment. I’ve been trying to incorporate more devotional practices into my daily life and particularly for my family. I kiss the feet of Our Lord’s corpus on the crucifix in my bedroom before I leave in the morning. I carry my rosaries with me at all times. On that point, believe it or not, that practice had actually been beaten out of me as a young seminarian many years ago. See my last post and you’ll know why. But I want to have a greater intimacy with Our Lord and His Mother and the saints and my angel. I want to know that if I were suddenly standing before the cross, which is the “throne of judgment”, I would advance toward my bleeding, disfigured Savior and not run away in terror and shame.
That’s one reason why I go to mass every day – to prepare for Calvary by going to Calvary.
We departed our beach house yesterday morning and headed for home. This morning I woke up in a hotel room in Atlanta, GA.
This morning began early. That’s because it’s Sunday. This was both a travel day (meaning, for us, we would drive about 800 miles) and the Lord’s Day (meaning we would move Heaven and earth to find a traditional Latin mass).
In the suburb of Mableton, GA, we attended the 8AM low mass for Pentecost in, drumroll please…
Another St. Francis de Sales parish!
Have I mentioned he’s the patron of writers and I think he’s stalking this writer?
This parish is run by our old friends, the FSSP and has been ensconced in this current property since the early 2000’s. I actually attended a daily mass here a year ago. The parish church is not huge but not particularly tiny either. So it surprised me that there was a sign in the parking lot indicating mass would be in the gym. After some searching we found said gym. Down a hill. A very long bill.
I surmise that the interior of the church building might be undergoing some renovations as the gym has, in addition to a few hundred folding chairs, a semi-permanent sanctuary space made out of finer polished oak and complete with a proper rail on three sides.
St. Francis de Sales, Mableton, GA. Picture taken last year on a different trip.
The priest who said mass preached a phenomenal homily, as is now expected by me of all Fraternity priests.
What really caught my attention, though, was the fact that every single person in attendance was properly attired. I will be writing on proper mass attire soon. But especially the men…
Suits.
Ties.
Hair neatly parted.
Like men.
Grown men.
Strong masculine men who love their wives and children and aren’t trying to show off but simply to look their level best for Christ and His sacrifice.
As I said, more on that to come. Just remember, this was Atlanta and there was a certain Gone With the Wind vibe to be felt.
I loved it.
And I truly loved that the great Mother of God, Mary Most Holy absolutely came through for me. I mentioned I had asked her prior to this trip to make Latin mass available to me every day. That she did.
Never doubt the love of a mother for her children. She wants only good things for us. She is happy when we want to kneel beside her as her Son gives Himself for our sins. I think of the many times in my life when my own ingratitude towards her Son’s sacrifice must have pierced her Immaculate Heart.
Never again.
Mother, give me to worship thy Son every day in His sacrifice!
And she did. And she will.
And He is only too happy to oblige anything she asks of Him.
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 