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Showing posts from March 10, 2019

Goodbye and Hello (Loretta G. Kettinger, 1925-2019)

There are a lot of things I might say about my Grandma . That's how I knew her, too. Sometimes, even before she died, I wished to know her in younger days. What was she really like? What was my Grandpa Bill like, who died before I was born, in 1979? He had to be quieter than her! It's odd, you know, a family in Missouri, that's to a person Dodgers fans (except my brother and me). That's weird, you know. You'd have to let my Uncle John tell you the story. The boys, her sons, they all love baseball. That's why I love baseball. They wore out the tape of Game 1 of the Series in '88. Kirk Gibson's home run, when he could hardly walk. It's as much a part of our family as anyone's. My Aunt Karen made the mistake once of saying, "Haven't you guys seen this enough? You know what happens!" John, without missing a beat, said, "Be quiet! I'm afraid he'll strike out this time!" Grandma would laugh and laugh, as if we'd neve

St. John Vianney, Pray For Us!

What a great day! I resolved to go to Holy Mass, because a relic of St. John Vianney would be there. I don't always get to go during the week these days, but today is special. I had in mind Confirmation Sponsor Lady, and one of my sisters, who has been sick. Truthfully, whenever I am at our parish, I think of them. It strikes me as odd that the separated brethren of the Reformation are so convinced of the error of the cult of the saints. As one hymn puts it, "Yet she on Earth hath union/With God the Three in One/And mystic sweet communion/With those whose rest is won." As I was thinking about this, I realized that in the hearts of the saints, there are no strangers. Therefore, in the one Eucharist, we know each other, and are fully known. There is so much loss in death and suffering, but even this can be rendered sweet in redemption. John Vianney got my requests to heal some people--not usually his normal thing--and my thanks for my family, especially since we are partl

Keep It Simple

The trial of life eventually reduces down to this reality: every joy, prayer, work, and suffering is brought to the altar. Everything becomes a question of faith, or the lack of it. Everything pertaining to worship that isn't the Mass imitates it. It is both intriguing and tragic to know that so many people believe other things, and quite doggedly at that. God in Christ either answers sorrow and sin with grace, or he does not. I find myself with little patience to debate the theological particulars of the holy Mass with those not yet reconciled to holy mother Church, if only because there is little time to reconcile that which remains unredeemed in my life, and in my sphere of influence. If ecumenism does not include the possibility of return to the Catholic Church, it is a waste of time. It still remains true that I am gentler on those outside the Catholic Church than I am on those within. It may be in part a function of my own pride and forgetfulness, in the sense that I did