I spotted the following Quiz to estimate your theological world view courtesy of Dilexit Prior over at
Letters from a Young Catholic. Great fun... I was also relieved to see that I am "officially" classed as Catholic!!
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You scored as Roman Catholic. You are Roman Catholic. Church tradition and ecclesial authority are hugely important, and the most important part of worship for you is mass. As the Mother of God, Mary is important in your theology, and as the communion of saints includes the living and the dead, you can also ask the saints to intercede for you.
Roman Catholic | | 100% | Neo orthodox | | 79% | Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan | | 68% | Charismatic/Pentecostal | | 29% | Fundamentalist | | 25% | Classical Liberal | | 25% | Reformed Evangelical | | 18% | Emergent/Postmodern | | 11% | Modern Liberal | | 4% |
What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com
As promised on my earlier post, Fr. Tim has produced a video showing highlights of the 2006 Summer Session. Check it out here.
I'm just back from five days away at the Faith Summer Session, held at Woldingham School in Surrey. It is incredibly refreshing, especially in the midst of mainly negative press about the state of the Church, to attend a conference about our Catholic faith, and to see that the majority of those present are young, enthusiastic about the practice of their faith and eager to learn more about it. There were well over 200 people present, and being in my late 30s I was actually one of the oldest! It was also incredibly heartening to see more than 30 priests (mostly young, and all enthusiastic!) concelebrating Mass each day. Morning and Night Prayer from the Divine Office, daily Mass, Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction, and the opportunity on one evening to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation (an opportunity taken by the vast majority of those present) provided the spiritual sustenance often lacking in our everyday lives. Outside the actual talks, it was also encouraging to see a steady movement of people to and from the chapel, taking a few moments to spend with our Lord. The talks were very instructive - from the proofs of God's existence to the centrality of the Church in God's plan of salvation. A seminar provided more personal accounts of how important the Church is for us. And Fr. Paul Watson, the Director of the Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, gave an excellent talk on the parables of Jesus. The social side of our human nature was catered for as well... there were plenty of opportunities for spiritual refreshment in the bar, and one night was dedicated to a Quiz Night while a ceilidh formed the basis for another night's entertainment. One of the final events was a video overview of the Session as seen by Fr. Tim Finigan (ever since he started blogging, nowhere is safe from his camera... it's bound to hit his blog soon so check it out at the Hermeneutic of Continuity) After such a spiritually uplifting time away it can be hard to return to "real" life... I guess I shall just have to make sure I get to the Winter Conference at Stonyhurst for another recharging of the batteries.
Ok, I've been introduced to the idea of "memes" because Fr. Tim over at the Hermeneutic of Continuity challenged me to complete the book meme by tagging me. It's actually harder to restrict myself to one book for each category than I first thought, but here goes: 1. One book that changed your life.Cecily Hallack: The Adventure of the Amethyst (Children's book written in the 1940s about four children who become Catholic... I read it the night I experienced my Damascus Road conversion !) 2. One book that you've read more than once.Robert Graves: I, Claudius3. One book that you'd want on a desert island.Divine Office (complete set !) 4. One book that made you laugh.C.S. Lewis: The Screwtape Letters5. One book that made you cry.J.R.R. Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings6. One book that you wish had been written.St. Anne Line: Hospitality and Household Management7. One book that you wish had never been written.Fr. James Hanvey & Fr. Tony Carroll: On the Way to Life (one of the most turgid pieces of writing I have ever had the misfortune to encounter) 8. One book that you're currently reading.St. Alphonsus Liguori: The Glories of Mary9. One book you've been meaning to read.Eamon Duffy: The Stripping of the Altars (started but never finished) I'm going to have to consider my tag carefully... UPDATE: I think I'll try and tag Thomas and Fr. Stephanos... though I suspect they've already been tagged!
Today being the feast of St. Martha (yes, I know it's technically only a memorial) I was able to reflect on today's Gospel where she gets a ticking off from our Lord. I always feel a sneaking sympathy with Martha here: if she'd followed Mary's example, I suspect that dinner would not have made itself!
My computer has been acting up over the past week (obviously it's having a holiday), and combined with my own manic schedule, this meant that I hadn't had much of a chance to browse many blogs. I'm now attempting to make up for it, and I came across the following little snippet from Fr. Stephanos showing the latest miracle apparition: the Holy Father on toast. Even funnier was the picture supposedly showing Pope Benedict's response!
Finding a good garage can be a challenge, especially if you are a blonde woman without a husband, boyfriend, brother or father in tow. It doesn't matter if the aforementioned male knows diddly-squat about cars and the blonde is a rocket scientist, but mechanics will always assume that the man is a fellow car-enthusiast, and they are less likely to try and pull the wool over a woman's eyes when explaining what exactly is wrong with the car if there is a man in the vicinity. Just before my last car did somersaults on the motorway last December, it failed its MOT inspection. Apparently it didn't have rear fog lights - it was an import from a country which presumably didn't experience fog, but I didn't discover this until it failed the MOT. After being given the runaround by the franchise garage (the garage which sold me the car three years before having gone into receivership) I decided to try my luck with one in Welling. The mechanics could have taken me to the cleaners: I know little about cars (there are 4 wheels on the outside, one in the boot and one to hold on to when going round corners) and even less about electrical wiring of fog lights, but they told me that the wiring was actually all in place, just not connected up, and so I only needed to get a red bulb to convert one of the reversing lights rather than having to invest in a new bumper... or even a new car! So, when my next car was due for its service, I returned to the same garage. Unfortunately, after the service, the occasional quiet grindy-type noise which I'd detected a couple of times became rather less quiet and much less occasional. So back I went. I went with someone for a test drive ("my car is making a grindy noise" not being the most technical of descriptions) and was told that it was probably a heat shield on the exhaust which was vibrating, and it had probably been knocked out of place further by the service. So, the offending part was knocked back into place. I drove off happily. And then turned round and drove back, because the noise had reappeared. This time it was decided that brackets were needed to fix the offending item to the underside of the car. I think it was something to do with the exhaust. Or maybe the cat. My look of blank incomprehension must have convinced the garage owner of the futility of explaining further. After an hour, I was assured that all was well, the problem had been sorted and I was free to go. I drove off happily in the direction of Sidcup to pick up a friend who had volunteered to help me spring clean (she must be barking, but she says she enjoys housework, and who am I to deprive her of her simple pleasures!) By the time I reached the station, I realised that all was not well, the problem hadn't been sorted and I drove back to the garage. Finally they figured it out. I don't quite understand what the problem was, but the noise has stopped, so it's fixed now!
For most teachers, the start of the summer holiday signals either total collapse or a period of frantic activity. For me, the latter was the case, as I'm finishing at one school and preparing to start at another. This week I've started spring-cleaning my flat (yes, very overdue), and have been rushing around trying to get various essential jobs completed before the inevitable onset of summer inertia. One such job was getting my car serviced. Having left my car with a garage in Welling, I then had a couple of hours to kill... ...so, rather than trying to find my way home by bus and getting on with housework, I decided to treat myself to a new hairdo. I'm a natural blonde, but my hair is a dark honey shade and I prefer ash. The dye also dries my hair out a bit, so it's less greasy. Generally I do it myself, but occasionally it helps to go to the hairdresser to strip off the build-up of colour. I hadn't been to the salon in Welling before, but I explained what I wanted, and the stylist gave me her advice as to which colour would suit me. I chose a dark ash, close to my usual, but she persuaded me to go a shade lighter, explaining that she'd start with a bleach wash to remove some of the honey tones. While the dye was developing, I commented that it seemed rather too light: my concerns were explained away as the white creamy chemicals disguising the true colour. I had my doubts, but decided that I was being paranoid. As the hairdresser washed the preparation out of my hair, I suddenly detected a harsh chemical smell which didn't correspond to anything I'd ever used before. She told me that the Ash colour hadn't quite "taken" and so she was using a toner to modify the colour somewhat... The toner didn't quite work... my hair was by now custard yellow! I also had to go back and collect my car before the garage closed. Luckily the hairdresser was as unhappy with the result as I was: she told me to go and get the car, and then she'd try adding another colour to correct the mistake. The colour she thought would do the trick? You guessed it: it was the one I'd picked out first of all. Fortunately it worked. My hair is now a fetching dark ash blonde rather than custard yellow, but it was a close call, and it took over three hours in the salon to achieve what normally takes me 45 minutes. ...I was going to quote something from Ecclesiastes on vanity, but unfortunately the NJB translates it as "futility" which doesn't quite work as well... but you get the general idea!
Problem: the number of people who actually make the effort to attend the holy Sacrifice of the Mass on a Holyday of Obligation is falling. Solution: remove the sense of "obligation" by transferring the days to Sunday, when people are going to be attending Mass anyway.Next Problem: the number of people who actually make the effort to attend the holy Sacrifice of the Mass to fulfil their Sunday obligation is falling. Solution? remove the sense of "obligation" by making Sunday Mass optional?Hey, brilliant idea! After all, there isn't such a big thing about attending Mass (sorry, Communion Service) in the Anglican Church, and they don't seem to have any problem with falling attendance... ...and heaven forbid that religion should be demanding... after all, Islam actually is unreasonable enough to demand that its adherents stop for prayers FIVE times, EVERY DAY... and the number of people who'll actually put up with that sort of unreasonable requirement has got to be falling, right? In England particularly it should be remembered that the martyrs gave their lives for the Mass. We're too constrained by the demands of secular society to give 45 minutes. I do so long to be faithful to the Magisterium, but when the Bishops just roll over in the face of modern secularism instead of standing firm and preaching the truth, I get the feeling that Christ is being sold for thirty shekels all over again.
I get very frustrated when people start to tell me that there aren't enough women in positions of power in the Church (by which they usually mean that there should be women priests running the parishes). For a start, this completely misses the point about priesthood, which is nothing to do with "power" and everything to do with self-sacrifice... So I was delighted to come across the following quote from Madeleine Albright, former U.S. Secretary of State, on women in leadership: "I'm not a person who thinks the world would be entirely different if it was run by women. If you think that, you've forgotten what high-school was like."
Thanks to Fr. Stephanos for highlighting that one.
I noticed that my posting on this blog has been more than a little sporadic. Luckily for me, school is now out for the Summer. This means that I shall have plenty of time to sit in front of my computer and divulge all my personal musings... Yeah, right! In reality, past experience has taught me that two things are possible: The first is that I shall be so busy visiting friends and catching up on sleep (sometimes simultaneously) that I won't have time to sit in front of the computer. The second is that I shall have plenty of time, but nothing worth writing about... ...ask me again in six weeks!
A short while back I asked for prayers for my sister who is expecting her first child. Martina is still losing quite a bit of blood, and the hospital are not entirely sure why. The latest theory is that there is some sort of haematoma in amongst the mesh of blood vessels which connect mother and baby... It's a case of "wait and see" - the baby is active and there's a strong heartbeat, but sometimes the haematoma can make the mesh of vessels tear away, and that can cause a miscarriage. Martina and her husband have nicknamed the baby "Barney" (Barney Rubble: trouble) - any prayers would be much appreciated, and I'll keep posting updates as things progress.
I was flicking through the TES (an British paper devoted to educational matters) in the staffroom at breaktime, when I spotted a cartoon which made me laugh out loud. It was at the bottom of an item on how teachers judge the social class of parents at parents' evenings. The picture wasn't that good, but the caption was priceless: One teacher to another about a young mother: "It's difficult to place her socially: she's got a tattoo on her bum... but it's in Latin!"
 While checking out the Hermeneutic of Continuity's posts on the Worldwide Blessing Generator and health warnings on cigarette packets to frighten Traditionalists, I was inspired to try my hand at marketing the DIY Liturgy Kit. The kit will be available shortly at all outlets which currently market aromatherapy candles, crystals, and books on Enneagrams.... It will consist of three candles, an assortment of pebbles (various shapes and sizes), a length of cotton material with hand-painted decorative symbols (tie-dyed cotton is also available), a CD of whale song and a box of tissues. I might also include an optional extra of a CD of pan-pipe music (it is notoriously difficult to choreograph liturgical dance to whale song) I anticipate brisk trading... UPDATE I forgot to include a tambourine. And a water feature.
As a natural blonde myself, I find "blonde" jokes rather amusing. Along with Dolly Parton, I know they're not true (apparently she also knew she wasn't blonde!) So, for the office party, a bunch of blondes and brunettes decide to hire a double-decker bus to go on a tour of London. The blondes end up on the top deck, while the brunettes stay below. The brunettes are having a whale of a time, and the party spirit is flowing freely. Then, someone notices that things are surprisingly quiet up top, and there's not so much as a squeak from the normally bubbly blonde contingent. One of the brunettes is dispatched upstairs to check it out. On arrival, she finds all the blondes sitting frozen in their seats, absolute terror etched on every face. "What's the matter?" asks the brunette, "why aren't you having fun? We're really enjoying this!" "It's ok for you lot downstairs," retorts one of the petrified blondes, "you've got a driver..."
Ok. Time to see how many of you out there are paying attention. I've been responsible for sorting out the prayer sheets for the Faith Summer Session for several years now. However, this year (just to keep me on my toes) we're actually into the first week of August rather than the last week of July or the second week of August. So we don't get to celebrate the Transfiguration, or the Feasts of St Teresa Benedicta and St Laurence (which means I have to sort out the psalms, as we can't just use the ones for the Sunday!!) We do get to celebrate St Alphonsus Mary de Liguori on the Tuesday and St John Mary Vianney (aka the Cure d'Ars) on the Friday. We don't have morning prayer on Monday, but Mass will be St Ignatius Loyola. The Thursday is a feria. So far, so straightforward - I just have a bit of typing to do. The problem is actually Wednesday 2nd August. It's an Optional Memorial, and there's a choice. Should I go for St Eusebius of Vercelli (safely in my Breviary, no tricky decisions) or for St Peter Julian Eymard (who's been added to the Universal Calendar according to my Directory, but all I know is that he was a priest)... ...or I could be really naughty and decide to plump for St. Mary of the Angels who gets a mention in the Directory in brackets. This means that the feast is either liturgically impeded or of diocesan interest... probably the former! So, any comments?
Modern technology has certainly come on quite a bit in the past few years. I was talking to my sister earlier, and she told me about all the scans and tests she's had because of the problems she's having with bleeding. She's in her thirteenth week, and should be in the "safe" zone, as far as any pregnancy can be considered safe, but the bleeding can't be explained by any of the doctors. She was a little scathing about a medical student who couldn't locate her cervix (I mean, how difficult can it be to find the end of what is effectively a cul-de-sac??) which wasn't exactly reassurring. Anyway, I asked if she had any pictures from the scans. "Oh no," was the offhand reply, "but we got the DVD" No doubt it's titled "Womb with a View"...
...Of course, I have no right to feel sorry for myself. There are lots of people who are much worse off than me. Or so I keep telling myself. The problem is, it isn't easy to believe this when your head is throbbing from a point just inside your lower jaw! Yes, I have toothache. I have spent the last two days curled up on my sofa under the duvet (yes, I did say "under" - I have a very cold flat) with my head on a hot water bottle. I wouldn't mind, but there's nothing on TV (watching tennis ranks, in my humble opinion, somewhere below watching paint dry for entertainment value) and I the pain means I can't focus properly, so reading isn't much of an option. Eating, one of my other favourite occupations, is also not on the menu, for fairly obvious reasons. I know it's self-inflicted. I should have gone to the dentist as soon as the filling fell out. But, it didn't hurt then. And I am frankly so terrified of dentists that I have to be in real pain before I can bear to cross the threshold of a dental surgery. It's stupid, it's irrational. But it's real. I am reduced to a howling, shaking lump. Once, I was so frightened that I clamped my jaw shut as a sort of reflex. Unfortunately the dentist's fingers were inside my mouth at the time. He wasn't happy. The irrational part comes in when I consider that I've had bits of my body cauterised, biopsied, stitched and cut out, and I've demanded to watch. I react badly to general anaesthesia, and so I've had my tibia sawn open and screwed back in a different position while cracking jokes with the anaesthetist and the surgeon (not sensible behaviour when the latter is wielding what looks like a Black and Decker with a little fancy attachment on it!) But the minute I sit in a dentist's chair, I want to start screaming. And that's just for the initial examination... The upshot of all this is that I left the hole in my tooth until I got an infection. And the pain got bad. The downside is that now no self-respecting dentist will go anywhere near the offending tooth until the infection has cleared up.... and by then, it might just have stopped hurting....
Today started off badly, but rapidly improved. And now, I think I can say that it's finished on a real high note. My sister phoned: she'd been travelling round the world with her husband since Christmas, but had come home early. The reason for cutting short her tour: she's expecting her first child! So, if all goes well, some time in the New Year I will be an "Auntie" My mother then admonished me to behave like a real auntie, and not like her sister. I was forced to point out that her sister was only 7 years older than me, so it was hardly her fault if she didn't behave in a very "aunt-like" fashion... and being in a different country also puts a bit of a crimp in aunt-visitations. There is just one little cloud: my sister has been experiencing some complications and bleeding, so as the "church-goer" I've been assigned the task of getting some serious praying done. Working on the principle that you can never have too many prayers said for you, I'll ask for as many as possible. O great Saint Gerard, beloved servant of Jesus Christ, perfect imitator of your meek and humble Saviour, and devoted child of the Mother of God, enkindle within my heart one spark of that heavenly fire of charity which glowed in your heart and made you an angel of love. O glorious Saint Gerard, because when falsely accused of crime, you did bear, like your Divine Master, without murmur or complaint, the calumnies of wicked men, you have been raised up by God as the patron and protector of expectant mothers. Preserve them from danger and from the excessive pains accompanying childbirth, and shield the children which they now carry, that they may see the light of day and receive the purifying and life-giving waters of baptism through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
I've been asked by my Parish Priest to help prepare a couple of boys for their First Holy Communion. I think the usual suspect was too busy, or was able to think on her feet a little more quickly than me: I was nabbed after evening Mass just over a week ago, and my mouth said "yes" before my brain kicked in. The first session was to have been last Tuesday: on hearing that there was some sort of football event on, I decided that it might not be the best time to dicuss the finer points of our Faith. So this evening I waited for the two boys to arrive for our first class. We started off in the church, with me trying to find out how much they knew already: I taught them how to genuflect and then we looked at a statue - after a heated debate between them as to how it couldn't be Jesus' dad because he was God and there weren't any statues of him, we found the shamrock and succesfully identified St Patrick. I intervened briefly to prevent any actual bloodshed... We then spent some time in the Sacristy learning how to make the Sign of the Cross with reverence; this led to some interesting questions on the nature of the Trinity. Finally the elder brother appeared to have cracked it. "It's like that CD" (he did mention the name of the singer, but I didn't quite catch it) "you know... you open up the box, and there are three CDs inside..." Not quite the accepted theological terminology, but I've heard a lot worse! We also amused ourselves by looking at vestments and the sacred vessels used for Mass: being an assistant sacristan has its advantages. The gold cope attracted most attention, especially when they got to hold it: "wow, it's well heavy!" There was also much speculation as to how much all those things must have cost. I think the greatest compliment came at the end: when I announced that the lesson was over, the boys were shocked - the time had gone so quickly. I just hope next week doesn't clash with the football!
 When I woke up this morning, I had a feeling it was going to be one of those days... Sure enough, everything seemed to conspire against me: tights, contact lenses, traffic... To make matters worse, I just couldn't seem to settle down to any of the (boring) paperwork sitting on my desk. We have a custom at my school: whenever anyone has a birthday (or other significant celebration) that person provides chocolates, doughnuts, cakes or some little treat for the rest of the staffroom. Occasionally someone will just go for it because there is the consensus that we need cheering up. Tomorrow is my birthday, and because I wasn't in the mood to shuffle paper (Year 13 have left, so I have a little free time) I started to discuss the relative merits of chocolates vs. doughnuts as a birthday staffroom treat with another teacher. We came to the conclusion that supermarket doughnuts just don't cut the mustard. Fresh, hot Krispy Kreme donuts, on the other hand, were the business. Unfortunately, I opined, Krispy Kreme at Bluewater don't open before we start school. Buying doughnuts the night before was fraught with difficulties, assuming that they survived the journey home (unlikely) but tomorrow is a full teaching day for me, and there wouldn't be any opportunities for scooting out in search of fresh doughnuts... I resigned myself to the idea of a large box of Celebrations. Then, an astonishing insight hit me. I could celebrate my birthday a day early and drive down to Bluewater in my Year 13 lesson... ...I shall draw a discreet veil over the details of who had how many and what variety. Such a shame that birthdays only happen once a year!
Fr. Nicholas of Roman Miscellany put up this post about Fr. Saju George, the Dancing Jesuit. Looking at the picture, I can't help wondering if Fr. Saju has taken the idea of rejecting clerical attire a little too far: I would never go so far as to say that a priest should always wear a cassock, or even a clerical shirt and collar, but I don't really want to be confronted with hairy chests and bare nipples at Mass... ...and then there is the question as to whether it is really appropriate to have anyone perform a dance more usually associated with Hindu temple prostitution as a Gospel meditation or thanksgiving after Communion.
Listening to the radio this morning (I really shouldn't... it's invariably bad for my blood pressure) I was interested to hear that there is a population crisis in Europe: apparently not enough babies are being born, and this will result in an increasingly aging population being supported by a decreasing number of young workers. Nothing new here. The bit that really had me gasping for breath was the proposed solution. Some mastermind suggested that if fertility treatment was offered to couples for free, the increased birth-rate would solve all the problems... and incidentally, the increased tax revenue would actually cover the cost of the treatment... ...I've had a blinder of an idea! How about we stop killing little babies in the hundreds of abortions that happen in Europe, and encourage infertile couples to adopt instead? We save the money from the surgical and pharmacological abortions, we save the money from the post-abortion counselling, we don't need to splash out any dosh for the fertility treatment AND we get the increased tax revenue from all those extra working people in a couple of decades. ...it's not exactly rocket science, is it?
Today is Father's Day in the UK. Unlike Mothering Sunday, which is a Church Feast Day, Father's Day is a piece of shameless commercialism aimed at increasing sales of beer, aftershave, chocolate (well, I suppose men like chocolate too... there's certainly lots of it on sale in Supermarkets with "Don't Forget Father's Day" plastered all over the shelves) and greetings cards. I don't really have a problem with this sort of thing... though I draw the line at celebrating "Grandparents' Day". But it did occur to me that it would be a great day to say a "thank you" to our priests - our spiritual fathers. I don't think we say "thank you" to them often enough, and we also take them for granted. This was brought home to me when I helped to start up a demonstration at the Chrism Mass at St. George's Cathedral, Southwark. It was quite a simple idea - a group of women from the diocese who wanted to show their loyalty to the Magisterium and their appreciation for everything that our priests do for the Church. As we handed out little prayer cards, one priest was almost in tears as he said that no-one had ever thanked him for being a priest before. It's important. I have been privileged to meet many, many good and holy priests since my return to the Church. These dedicated, prayerful and hard-working men give up their lives for God and the Church - that's us. Without their self-sacrifice, there would be no Sacraments, no Church. The prayer cards we gave out at last year's Chrism Mass had a quote from Pope John Paul II: "The priest is someone who, despite the passing of years, continues to radiate youthfulness, spreading it almost contagiously among those he meets along the way. His secret lies in his passion for Christ...
"If he is able to offer himself as a gift, placing himself at the service of anyone in need, his life takes on its true meaning."
(Maundy Thursday, March 2005) So take the opportunity to wish your Parish Priest (and/or Curate) a Happy Father's Day.
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