Lectio Divina
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The Fourth Sunday of Advent
This past week the weather was so warm it felt like May. The spotted dogs and I had the opportunity to take many pleasant walks, and I felt as if my body and soul were being scrubbed by the clean air I drew deeply into my lungs. I spent much of the week pondering my gratitude for my health and that of Mrs. Orr and all of our family. More than ever, I believe it’s important to stay out of the hospital and far from health care facilities if at all possible. Once again, I will refer you to the indefatigable Anne Barnhardt. One of her recent podcasts featuring an…
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The Second Sunday Of Advent
“Into this world, this demented inn, in which there is absolutely no room for him at all, Christ has come uninvited. But because he cannot be at home in it, because he is out of place in it, and yet he must be in it, his place is with those others for whom there is no room. His place is with those who do not belong, who are rejected by power because they are regarded as weak, those who are discredited, who are denied the status of persons, tortured, exterminated. With those for whom there is no room, Christ is present in this world.” — Thomas Merton This is the…
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Down to the Page, Up to the Heavens
I spent much of this past weekend thinking over the state of my soul. Friday night, we watched a DVD, featuring the talented LeeLee Sobieski in her role as Saint Joan of Arc. And my wife presented me with a gift of books, one of which had been a wish-list item for some time now: The Little Office of Baltimore. I set about praying the offices in the book and am profiting from this spiritual exercise very much. I only wish TLOoB had the office in Latin on facing pages, like the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary does. I am comforted by my stumbling, halting tongue as I…
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All Things Necessary
Universal Prayer for All Things Necessary for Salvation O my God, I believe in Thee; do Thou strengthen my faith. All my hopes are in Thee; do Thou secure them. I love Thee with my whole heart; teach me to love Thee more and more. I am sorry that I have offended Thee; do Thou increase my sorrow. I adore Thee as my first beginning; I aspire after Thee as my last end. I give Thee thanks as my constant benefactor; I call upon Thee as my sovereign protector. Vouchsafe, O my God, to conduct me by Thy wisdom, to restrain me by Thy justice, to comfort me by Thy…
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Critical Mass
A natural part of aging together as a married couple is the increase in conversations about how things will be when one of us dies. We’ve explored what Mrs. Orr might likely do if I go first, and what I might do. It’s obvious and natural that my beloved wife would want to be near the boys and the grandchildren, and this would be a good thing — good for her to have loved ones near her, and good for the young ones to enjoy the benign influence of so saintly a grandmother. I am a horse of a different color. I love my family very much, but the older…
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The Importance of Laura Wood
I wanted to encourage my readers to frequently visit The Thinking Housewife and to support Laura Wood’s work if possible. Since I began my oddball journey from joyless and confused Protestant to embracing the traditional Roman Catholic faith with enthusiasm and, yes, love, Laura Wood has been a steady, encouraging presence. She is one of three people who have helped me more than I can express, the other two being Father James Conner, a monk at Our Lady of Gethsemani Abbey in Bardstown, Kentucky, and the lady who hosts the superb website Fisheaters. The Thinking Housewife is one of those rare sites that, every time I visit, feeds my soul,…
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Despair, Sleep, and Heavenly Mother
Bruce Charlton has posted a really good essay over at his blog, one of those posts that stopped me in my tracks. I commend it to you. I’ll include here the checklist Bruce wrote to assist in spiritual re-encouragement, and then a couple of thoughts. 1. Reality is ultimately created by God – and continually being-created by God; and I participate in this creation (as a sub-creator) insofar as the world is understandable to me. I look around and remind myself of this. 2. The world is Not dead, mechanical or random; the world is alive and conscious: this is a world of beings. Every ‘thing’ is actually a being, or part…
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A Catholic Christian
Jinx and I walked this morning under the coverlet of humidity that has parked itself over these mountains and announced that it will not be leaving anytime soon. The crickets and locusts rasped on in a steady note from the damp fronds of green in all directions, and we both walked more slowly than usual. I saw in my missal that today is the feast day of Saint Augustine, the revered Doctor of the Church. I prayed for family members as I walked, and I thought on the sorry things that mar the days in this age. While evil overtakes the Western world, the Roman Catholic Church has paralleled the…
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No Warmth, No Comfort
Dorothy Day reveals in her autobiography, The Long Loneliness, that she craved the deep faith and the spiritual discipline she observed among the poor and the immigrants with whom she lived in New York City during her young years as a radical socialist. Many a morning after sitting all night in taverns or coming from balls at Webster Hall, I went to an early morning Mass at St. Joseph’s Church on Sixth Avenue and knelt in the back of the church, not knowing what was going on at the altar, but warmed and comforted by the lights and silence, the kneeling people and the atmosphere of worship. People have so…
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Kindness From a Distance
“My life itself, and the best heart of it, thanks you for this great care.” William Shakespeare — Henry VIII, Act I, Scene 2 I received a thing of beauty. A reader, whose name I will not disclose here, wrote me an email that I have read and reread several times. The care with which the letter was composed is palpable; the sweet spirit of the sender is unmistakable. Just when things are quiet and bruised, the light peeks over the heat-withered pastures and becomes again that source of beauty to which I have looked since my first day. This letter is light to me. ~ S.K. Orr Dear…