The Anchoress

If you’ve never read the remarkable book The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton, you really should consider it. It’s not just for Catholics; it is a tremendously readable autobiography of a brilliant man on spiritual sojourn. One of those books you pick up and have difficulty putting down. I quote some of the book - and share how it made me think.

Here is a video about Merton and the evolution of the book

Icon of St. Benedict, New Clairvaux Abbey, Vina, California
Written by a nun of St. Cecilia’s Abbey, Ryde, UK

I’ve long admired the website for the Benedictine Nuns at St. Cecilia’s Abbey in the Isle of Wight, UK, but it’s nice to see it highlighted and discover a lovely website in the bargain. Fr. Ray Blake quotes the Benedictines as to why they still chant the Liturgy of the Hours in Latin:

We made a deliberate choice to keep the rest in Latin for several reasons. First, the Gregorian Chant which we use for all our liturgy was composed for Latin texts. The melodies weren’t written first and then the words fitted to them; the melodies were made for the existing texts (almost all quotations from Scripture). We couldn’t use the same melodies for English words, and they’re so subtle and beautiful that to adapt them would be to spoil them. These chants evolved from the music of the synagogues which the first Christians adopted, and developed over more than a thousand years. There’s often a theology in the melody itself - for example, as it becomes more elaborate at the important words or phrases. Then, all the great monastic figures in the western Church wrote in Latin and it’s good to keep in touch with them. Often we’re singing chants which they would have known and prayed with just as we do. While Vatican II allowed the use of modern languages and modern music in the liturgy, it also insisted on the value of the Latin language and Gregorian Chant, and subsequent Popes have stressed that Benedictine monasteries have a particular duty and privilege to cherish and draw life from this wonderful spiritual heritage.

Near Ryde, which houses St. Cecilia, there is a monastery of monastic men, Quarr Abbey.

Beautiful pictures of both houses of prayer.

Hillary Clinton says she doesn’t like all of this individualism stuff - the rugged individuality which is the very definition of America does not appeal to her very much. She prefers the socialist collective. Resistance is futile.

“I prefer a ‘we’re all in it together’ society,” she said. “I believe our government can once again work for all Americans. It can promote the great American tradition of opportunity for all and special privileges for none.”
[…]
That means pairing growth with fairness, she said, to ensure that the middle-class succeeds in the global economy, not just corporate CEOs.

“There is no greater force for economic growth than free markets. But markets work best with rules that promote our values, protect our workers and give all people a chance to succeed,” she said. “Fairness doesn’t just happen. It requires the right government policies.”

We’ll skip over the fact that the middle class is doing very well in America and acknowledge that St. Benedict - whose Monastic Rule has stood for 1400 years as a perfect guideline for communal living, family building and even corporate management - would agree with Hillary that fairness requires some guidelines and policies.

I (and perhaps Benedict) would part ways from Hillary at the suggestion that “government policies” are the road to parity. The thing is, communism works in very small enclaves, in monasteries, for example, where everyone involved is entering willingly, is voluntarily looking to be denuded, is eager to “give stuff up” in an effort to attain something quite different from worldy “stuff.” Communism does not work, though, in a large-scale national situation whereby people are expected to sublimate themselves, their instincts and their ambitions for the good of the party. Socialism does not work.

There is an enormous difference between a few dozen people voluntarily giving up their worldly goods for communal living, and forcing people to participate in such a society against their will. The first brings freedom for those who choose it. The second, historically, has brought tyranny, poverty, slaughter and the gulag. When Hillary said, a few years ago,

“Many of you are well enough off that [President Bush’s] tax cuts may have helped you. We’re saying that for America to get back on track, we’re probably going to cut that short and not give it to you. We’re going to take things away from you on behalf of the common good.”

I and many others (and I am not a particularly materialistic person, mind you) felt that old chill wind Tim Robbins keeps warning us about blow and blow.

That quote, by the way, comes from one of the rapidly-disappearing-from-search-engines articles one can no longer find except on a few blogs who noted it, and not all of those blogs come up, either. I remember scores of blogs commenting on that remark, but in a search, today, only a few come up - mostly because of bloggers listing quotes in a book. Apparently that remark of Hillary’s is going to be taken away from us for our common good. We’re in for an interesting election year. But I digress…

Special privileges for none: A humorous note, when it peels forth from the lips of a woman who has had nothing but special privileges thrust her way for all of her life, and who is unlikely to stop living with them anytime soon…but we’ll simply smile and put that aside for a moment.

Even St. Benedict - who knew a little more about communal living than does Hillary Clinton - understood that “special privileges for none” did not work in a real world. He understood that a community, no matter how dedicated to anonymity and commonality, was still made up of individuals, that a successful monastery was built by taking into account and using each monk or nun’s individual gifts.

Rumer Godden explains it well in In This House of Brede:

“Dame Agnes, a scholar and writer, might need twenty books, while dear Dame Perpetua might need only one or, as she might say herself, none at all.”

As Benedict writes it:

Let him who hath need of less thank God and not give way to sadness, but let him who hath need of more, humble himself for his infirmity, and not be elated for the indulgence shown him; and thus all the members will be at peace.

Perhaps instead of simply lecturing the rest of us, Hillary might do well to read this commencement address from the Valedictorian of Notre Dame’s class of 2007:

The life of someone like Fr. Tom Streit, a biologist and Holy Cross priest who works in Haiti to eliminate the spread of elephantiasis, illustrates the continued need for direct service to the world’s poor…there are Notre Dame alumni in the business world who use their skills and passion to mentor nonprofit organizations. The University also sponsors the GLOBES program, which brings together a wide array of leaders to tackle environmental problems and has expanded my idea of how one can serve the world. Such diverse possibilities represent but a few among many ways to continue what has already been started in us. Just as this University’s mission doesn’t stop with who we are at this point, we have been formed – our lives have been complicated – to embark upon a lifetime of action.

Fellow graduates, as we leave this university, many of us have the enormous privilege of being able to live relatively comfortable lives when compared to the majority of the world’s population. At the same time, whether or not we live materially comfortable lives, we are ultimately called to live complicated lives. Respecting the principles of Catholic social teaching means that the lives of millions killed around the world by treatable diseases matter, just as the economic, social, and spiritual poverty that exists in our own neighborhoods deserves our attention. Such realities necessitate concern, sympathy, and action. Though the answers to these problems are not always obvious, turning the page of the newspaper and failing to ask “why” would betray what this place, with its Catholic foundation, stands for.

Imagine that! Individual people - not “the goverment” - making a difference!

Noble behavior ennobles everyone as a rising tide lifts all boats. Restrictive behavior…simply restricts.

We are in this together, that’s true. But we are each created as individuals, each endowed with gifts meant to serve and enhance the One Body. Sublimation of the self to a secular government entity does not sound like the gig to me. As I wrote here, we are in this together, outside of time. Meaning…in God.

People often ask me why Catholics find it necessary to keep the Crucifix before them. “The victory was in the resurrection, not the death…Catholics focus on the wrong thing - the cross should be empty…”

Well, yes. The victory is the resurrection, but its gotten to through the rest of it.

While the empty cross brings us hope and promise, we are still humans living human lives with all of the pain and frailty and questions and hurt that implies…and when one looks at the Crucifix, one finds not a morbid and bloody corpse, but The God Who Knows, not because he is conveniently all-knowing, but because He actually submitted to life, lived it, endured it, went through it all, just as we do.

Jesus lost his own beloved step-father, Joseph, he knows what we know. When we look at the Crucifix we see that there is no human situation that Jesus did not come to know. Feel betrayed? Feel humiliated? Feel abandoned? Feel unjustly hurt? Feel loss? There, on that crucifix is the God who has known every one of those feelings, and has submitted to them - in order to save us, but also in order to draw us near, to gather us into a consolation, a consoling embrace that says…“I know what you’re feeling…I know what you’re thinking…we are actually all in this together, and quite outside of time.”

It’s hard to remember all that. The Crucifix is the reminder.

Meanwhile, a helpful reader finds the tough-to-find piece.

In the post below I wrote imprecisely at one point, causing a commenter to launch a very minor (and I know not malicious) molotov meant to illustrate the disparity between the “haves” and “have-nots” in America.

Then I read Dick Meyer’s column and found that he was musing some on the moral question of ostantatious ownership:

My wife has taken to counting Bentleys. She spotted three of these $200,000-and-up money wagons two weekends ago and five more since. She’s appalled. I am, too…We have sermonized to our children against what we consider aggressive ostentation and wastefulness.

Show of hands, please: how many of you read that and thought, “where do you live/work that you see 8 Bentley’s in two weeks time?”

:::Anchoress shows her hand, too:::

See that? That is the instinctive human awareness that not all neighborhoods are equal. It is most emphatically not an assertion that all neighborhoods should be equal, though.

Meyer writes later: I didn’t know what really bugged me about grotesque displays of wealth until I had lunch with a close friend recently…among the wealthier people I know well…He also has one great competitive passion that he can now indulge more.

There are two important ideas here

You’ll have to go over and read Meyer to get his two important ideas, and you may or may not agree with them. I thought it was an intriguing column, and you know I always have to share my thoughts, as though they matter:

I’m not a class warrior, myself - I frankly think class warfare is cheap, easy, too cynical and too often promoted by trust-fund babies and elitist uber-riche who moved from middle-class to staggering wealth but believe they still have the common touch, that they still know what’s best for everyone else. There are too many very rich people out there who - now that they’ve got theirs - think what’s best for the rest of us is to limit our potentials. They may mean well, but when they propose that “everyone else” put aside their dreams and their potentials for “the common good,” they get in the way of too many others - and they have no business thwarting anyone’s dreams.

The belief that someone was born for a reason and that he can overcome obstacles to fulfill that birthright is never helped by sourpusses who wag their fingers from their thrones and tell people that it is crass or immoral to want as much as they can have.

I have a cousin who is a priest. He has worked in some absolute hellholes and he’s also rubbed elbows with the very privileged. He notes that it’s only the very rich who want to strip down churches into bare halls, or who want to serve Communion in wicker baskets because “that honors the poor.” The poor don’t really appreciate the wealthier folks deciding what “honors” them, he tells me. Condescension, for example, doesn’t do it.

My cousin says that truly poor folks he has ministered to are the ones who want beautiful churches, and they recoil at the idea of serving Communion - the banquet of the Lord - in baskets instead of something finer. The “something finer” used at mass is not the “insult to the poor” the rich believe - rather it’s a promise of hope, a promise that everyone is in the game, not just some, that nothing is withheld from anyone. It is a reason to work, to become educated, to pursue the thing for which one senses one has been born, which is never “simply to be a nothing.”

Meyer writes briefly about the “rudeness” of “not caring what others think.” That CAN be a rudeness, if it is aggressive and in-your-face, but paradoxically, such an attitude is a simple testament that you do, in fact, care what people think - so much so that you must announce that you don’t care, and make a big deal of it.

But there is another side of that, which is true detachment, and that has nothing to do with aggressiveness or rudeness, and everything to do with being other-directed.

The first is the self-conscious part of the whole universal crying out of “I’m good! I’m good” which brings us so much misery as we humans try to convince the world and ourselves that we matter.

The second is already convinced that all matter matters but because there is so much matter, one need only figure out what is not illusory and focus on that. It understands, then, that too much concern for what others think distorts one’s focus, and it holds to a sort of Atticus Finch-ian “polite detachment,” which I think is pretty healthy.

A large part of the urge toward materialism is rooted in self-consciousness, in caring about what other people think. If one truly doesn’t care what others think, one’s material possessions reflect that, usually in a quieter way.

I think what’s at the heart of Meyer’s piece is the matter of that intangible that everyone believes they have, but so few do: Class, itself. Some think they can buy their way into it, or that their wealth confers it upon them. Some believe their anti-elitist snobbism defines it.

But Class has absolutely nothing to do with riches and everything to do with how one regards and treats others from within their own sphere. Meyer’s friend exhibits class. He is respectful of the fact that others do not have it as easy as he does, and so he honors that by forcing himself to do what is inconvenient. In his sphere, he is as humble, then, as any working fella running to catch the A train to Broad Channel.

To cite To Kill A Mocking Bird again, Calpurnia, housekeeper to the Finch family, raised up the children of her so-called “betters” and kept her dignity in the face of a thousand injustices - she had Class. The more privileged ladies at the Missionary tea, eating Atticus Finch’s food while denigrating his work, did not. Money and possessions had absolutely nothing to do with which people were more noble and which less - it had to do with how they regarded others and responded to the world, in general. No matter what your sphere, Class tells.

And perhaps if more people had Class, were raised with the mindset of respectfulness and manners and to the “golden rule” mentality that fell out of favor 30-40 years ago for the preferred victim/resentment mentality of our era, then “class warfare” would be dropped as a means of movement, because it is very destructive; it drags everyone down and elevates no one.

It muddies up the truth that riches do not create happiness, that contentment has more to do with being with and for those you love - and who love you - than in having the latest pair of anything. It also muddies up the other - less convenient, for some - truth, which is that the rich and have their place in the scheme of things. Joseph of Arimethia a rich man with access to people of influence, played his part in the pageant of Salvation just as surely as the widow who gave her last mite.

Rich or poor, what matters is how you deal with and respond to the rest of the world. Beyond that is illusion, distraction and meaninglessness.

Radley Balko has an example of rich elitism that lacks class.
Maggies Farm looks at who is poor in America

The Anchoress’ own lovely statue of St. Benedict

…You ought to use the greatest caution, even in doing good things. For it may be that, in carrying out some good works, you are seeking only the favor and good graces of men: or the desire of praise may overtake you, and what is done for outward effect, fail in its inward reward.
- Pope St. Gregory the Great (Homily 12 on the Gospels)

“Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizes it, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may be disguised”
- Tolstoy

I think most of us have generous hearts, and the things we do - the volunteer work we take on, or the advocacy we engage in - we begin with pure intentions and little thought for what personal gain our doings may reap. We take on a cause because we really want to help and then perhaps find ourselves the recipient of some public recognition, gushes, little plaques noting our willingness to share time and talent…perhaps sometimes gifts come our way….(I once helped someone out and was very surprised to receive two tickets to the Philharmonic for my very small, barely thought about, effort) - and because it feels kind of nice to be stroked and feted, we begin to lose sight of why we began a thing in the first place. We continue to do the work, because we still believe in it, but when the strokes stop coming because people begin to take your participation for granted (and that always happens) it is not unusual for someone to step up their committment, make themselves more visible, seem more tireless and passionate, in order to keep the praise and applause coming.

And that is when things risk becoming out-of-balance and distorted. That is when we opened ourselves up to allowing our good works to become less about the work and more about us.

And when that happens…well…then it’s easy to fall into a “do as I say, not as I do,” mentality, which is an out-of-balance mentality.

I’m a priest; my consecration is now so ordinary to me that I don’t think about the scandal if I am using foul language in conversation.

I love Jesus and am so protective of Him that I don’t realize that sometimes I come off like a Proud Pharisee and not a Penitant Publican.

I’m an environmentalist and I’ve done so much to raise awareness that I don’t really have to worry about the mines on my property, or flying my private jets because - thanks to me and my advocacy - a million little people will do their part to make up for that pollution.

I’m a political leader who throws so much money at foundations and charities that it doesn’t matter if I am a Destructor of Others Personal Lives.

I’m a teacher, and I’m committed to educating young minds, but that doesn’t extend to allowing them to think outside my parameters.

I’m a journalist who went into the craft because I wanted tell true stories…but these are complex times with relative truths, and so I can completely bury stories of progress in Iraq while sobbing about a lack of progress in Kosovo because it’s for a greater good, as informed by my worldview.

We all have something about which we are hypocritical at least sometimes. My husband is an uber-volunteer for church and many organizations, but sometimes he’s just a grouchy, distracted pain in the patoot. I’m a Christian woman who has been told on more than one occasion that she writes like “an intelligent, erudite caveman. With club.”

None of us cover ourselves in glory all the time. Some of us, yer Anchoress included, routinely yell at others about the shovels in their yards while hitting ourselves in the face with our rakes. None are perfect, save Christ.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to nurture enough of an interior life - a habit of honest occasional introspection, if not prayer - to at least ask ourselves, “how am I doing, here? Am I still doing this because I believe in it and want to serve it, or because it has begun to serve ME well? Am I balanced about what I am taking and receiving? Am I enjoying the praise a little too much and losing touch with the fact that deep down, I’m still a bit of a dork, and that I know it, even if no one else seems to?

I think we’re all frauds now and again. Perhaps how deeply fraudulent we are may be measured by how willing or unwilling we are to laugh at ourselves, or to admit mistakes and failings.

When I was a little girl we Catholics were taught to spend some time before bed each night in an “examination of conscience,” which may be plainly thought of as a review of our day in light of the Ten Commandments, but of course can go much deeper than that. People talk of “Catholic guilt,” but I think of it as “Catholic consciousness” - of a way for us to remain “in balance,” and to maintain our grasp, however lightly we may, on the fact that we all have moments when we are complete asshats.

That self-awareness may be the thing that can keep us humble, so that we don’t fall so easily into the scandalous sin of hypocrisy, which never helps any cause.

Perhaps the ability to balance our work with some sort of interior life is why The Rule of St. Benedict has been practiced for 1500 years by monastic communities (and lately in business and at home) - because it teaches one to be mindful of balance.

Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.
- Thomas Merton, Trappist Monk (Under the Rule of St. Benedict)

UPDATE: Into Great Silence is finally playing in limited release around the country. Even The NY Times gave it a rave. If you can get a chance, maybe try to see it now, during Lent! And see Ambivablog’s fascinating link on this film!

Also, go check out Gerald’s lovely photographs which may spur you on to a bit of meditation!

Siggy sent this my way, and I thought it was more than worth sharing:

In 1935 (to pick a date), the most common pattern in our country was for a local boy to meet and marry a local girl and to settle down and raise their children in the community in which they themselves were born, with relatives and friends forming a network of relationships that surrounded and nurtured (or harrassed) them. Divorce rates and crime rates were relatively low in most places. Stable communities tend to have stable families. The network of relationships promotes this. Human beings have lived in these relatively stable forms for most of human history.

In 2007 (to pick another date), the more common pattern is for a boy to meet a girl in college or later - he is from Virginia (say) and she is from Ohio (say). They marry, move to Oregon and begin their careers, or they met there and married. Family is the stuff you negotiate as in “whose parents do we visit at Thanksgiving this year, etc.” The network of friends is often his friends from work and her friends from work, and frequently not much more.

This is a subject that is really ripe for plucking - the instability of the family and the community affects everything. I’m often struck by how until the baby boomers, family and community continuance was the norm. But then I’m often struck by how in the space of a generation, thousands of years of ideas, traditions and norms were torn down and “deconstructed.” Because boomers always knew better than anything that ever came before them.

Hmmmm…getting myself all annoyed and tense over here, and I don’t want that. This might help.

A few days ago, while writing about Will Smith’s new film The Pursuit of Happyness, I also found myself talking about the classic, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” starring James Stewart.

My L’il Bro Thom added his thoughts, and I wanted to share them:

It’s a very deceptive movie – froth and cream on top, but bitter and full of bile underneath. I know now why people were so upset when it was colorized in the 80s – it needs to be told in black and white. The scene when George Bailey returns to his house and sees it in ruins is devastating – and it’s made eerier and more upsetting when the cop shines his searchlight onto the building and the shadows loom darker and deeper.

And the final lesson is not really about the inherent goodness of man, despite the tinkling bells and tearful singing. It’s a stark post-war fable: no man is an island. For better or worse, life has consequences. When the movie came out, we were just entering the atomic age and the Cold War, and I have to wonder how many people dabbing at their eyes at the end really grasped the point.

We live none of us to ourselves, and everything we do, even if we are not “thinking” about it, not acting consciously, has a ripple effect, it reaches out and touches other lives, sometimes imperceptibly. Nature uses everything. So does the Holy Spirit. We think we’re going along in our own little spheres and that nothing we do matters…for good, or for evil…but it all matters, and the Holy Spirit takes everything we put out there and uses it.

I hurt my L’il Bro yesterday. I didn’t mean to, it was wholly unintentional…but it was insensitive and because it was insensitive it was needlessly cruel. I was needlessly cruel. I hate that. And who knows how far my cruelty will ripple, and extend the hurt?

That does seem to be the theme of my Advent musings, but some lessons I wish I could learn in other ways. The lesson is that I am still sometimes unthinking or inconsiderate or too aggressive, too full of my own Irish head of steam (and the pride that goes with it) and because all of that is true, I am still more of a destructor than anything else. The other lesson is that God still has an awful lot of work to do on me, and I must let Him. And that no matter how much we seek to improve ourselves, it’s a lost cause without the help of grace. Some of us need more help than others. I need a lot.

That is not me being picturesque. My neediness before God is not evidence of His favor but of all I am lacking. In the Rule of St. Benedict, the wise founder of Western Monasticism writes, “Let him who hath need of less thank God and not give way to sadness, but let him who hath need of more, humble himself for his infirmity, and not be elated for the indulgence shown him; and thus all the members will be at peace.”

Yesterday at Vespers we prayed in psalm 123:
Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy.
We are filled with contempt.
Indeed all too full is our soul
with the scorn of the rich,
with the proud man’s disdain.

Some interpret the line to mean “we are tired of the rich and the proud hating us and beating us down…”

I’ve always read it as “we are too filled with contempt for others, our souls are full of scorn for others who may have more - we have within us the disdain that comes from pride…”

I’m probably reading it wrong, but that’s how it speaks to me…and today I have lived it and proved it. Most pathetically.

I have so much to learn.

The Dominican nuns of Summit, New Jersey have made a video of vespers for tonight. Not perfect (they’re very apologetic about that) but perfectly lovely, and I hope they share more of this with us. They sounded like angels to me as they sang the second of what are known as the O Antiphons, which we chant in the last week of Advent, as the antiphon just prior to the chanting of the Magnificat. These antiphons are especially beautiful. They started yesterday with the O Sapientia: “O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.” Today is O Adonai.

After you’ve checked out the ladies in black and white, if you feel inclined to pray Evening Prayer - or Vespers - here’s how it goes. I prayed it earlier at Adoration, but somewhere in the world, it’s still time for Vespers! Enjoy!

O God come to my assistance
O Lord, Make haste to help me
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen. Alleluia.

Hymn of the season

Psalmody
Antiphon 1: The Lord, the ruler over the kings of the earth, will come; blessed are they who are ready to go and welcome him.

Psalm 123
To you I have lifted up my eyes,
you who dwell in the heavens:
my eyes, like the eyes of slaves
on the hand of their lords.

Like the eyes of a servant
on the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes are on the Lord our God
till he show us his mercy

Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy.
We are filled with contempt.
Indeed all too full is our soul
with the scorn of the rich,
with the proud man’s disdain.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen.

Psalm prayer: Father in heaven, we lift our eyes to you and pray: confound the scorn of the proud and graciously show us your mercy.

Antiphon 2: Sing a new song to the Lord; proclaim his praises to the ends of the earth.

Psalm 124
“If the Lord had not been on our side,”
this is Israel’s song.
“If the Lord had not been on our side
when men rose against us
then would they have swallowed us alive
when their anger was kindled.

Then would the waters have engulfed us,
the torrent gone over us;
over our head would have swept
the raging waters.”

Blessed be the Lord who did not give us
a prey to their teeth!
Our life, like a bird, has escaped
from the snare of the fowler.

Indeed, the snare has been broken
and we have escaped.
Our help is in the name of the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen.

Psalm-prayer: Lord Jesus, you foretold that your disciples would be despised on account of your name, but that not a hair on their heads is ever forgotten. In times of persecution, defend and revive us by the power and comfort of the Holy Spirit, so that we can be freed from our enemies and praise your saving help.

Antiphon 3: When the Son of Man comes to earth do you think he will find faith in men’s hearts?

Canticle - Ephesians 1:3-10
Praised be the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who has bestowed upon us in Christ
every spiritual blessing in the heavens.

God chose us in him
before the world began
to be holy
and blameless in his sight.

HE predestined us
to be his adopted sons and daughters through Jesus Christ,
such was his will and pleasure
that all might praise the glorious favor
he has bestowed on us in his beloved.

In him and through his blood, we have bee
redeemed
and our sins forgiven,
so immeasurably generous is God’s favor to us.

God has given us the wisdom
to understand fully the mystery,
the plan he was pleased
to decree in Christ.

A plan to be carried out
in Christ, in the fullness of time,
to bring all things into one in him,
in the heavens and on earth.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen.

Reading - Philippians 4:4-7:
Rejoice in the Lord always! I say it again. Rejoice! Everyone should see how unselfish you are. The Lord is near. Dismiss all anxiety from your minds. Present your needs to God in every form of prayer and in petitions full of gratitude. Then God’s own peace, which is beyond all understanding, will stand guard over your hearts and minds, in Christ Jesus.

Responsory
Lord, show us your mercy and love
- Lord show us your mercy and love
And grant us your salvation
- your mercy and love
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen.

Antiphon:
O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush, who gave him the holy law on Sinai mountain: come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free

Magnificat - Luke 1:46-55

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.

He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.

He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children forever.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, Amen.

Intercessory Prayer

The Lord’s Prayer

Prayer
All-powerful God,
renew us by the coming feast of your Son
and free us from our slavery to sin.
Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
on God, forever and ever. Amen.

May the Lord bless us,
protect us from all evil
and bring us to everlasting life. Amen.

Lots of Glory Be’s in there, eh? There’s a joke the Benedictines like to tell: Once there was a monk who died and went to heaven and saw Christ. He said to Jesus, “am I dead?” Jesus said, “yep. You’re dead. This is heaven.” The monk said, “well, what to do do now?” Jesus shrugged and smiled and said, “go to choir, I guess!”

The job of the monastics in praying the Diviine Office, the Opus Dei, is to unite our praise on earth to the heavenly praises of the angels and the elect in heaven. The “Work of God,” absolutely.

:::UPDATED:::Scroll down for original post:::
Bizzy Blog has some very interesting information (confirmed by phone, it must be said) up at his blog. The AP apparently doesn’t know 5 victim names. This on top of the “4 burning mosques” seeming to be only 1. (H/T Larwyn)
:::END UPDATE:::

Yes, I did! As Red Skelton would say, “I dood it!” I finished the stupid book today (it’s dun-diddley-done) and will do one more proofread and ship it out.

Working on it nonstop as I have, I don’t even want to look at or touch the thing for a while, but I have to. Deadline, etc.

But finally I have been able to raise my head and look around a bit, so here’s a round-up of things Iraqy-and-Murky and Pope-y but Perky. And some other stuff, too.

Let’s start with the Pope, because I missed all the tv coverage.

I am in love with this picture of Benedict disembarking from his plane, which Sissy Willis captured. He looks like The Man in White (even White Hair!) Come to Dodge City! I like the fact that the picture is a little fuzzy and the face is indistinct. I like the way it emphasizes that the man, Joseph Ratzinger, is not the focus here and not recognizable…all that is recognizable is “The Vicar of Christ.” Sissy also points out that Benedict is now encouraging Turkey’s admission into the EU, which - like Sissy - I think is a good thing and long overdue.

Gerald over at Closed Cafeteria (who is having one of those weeks where he just has one great post after another) points out that while the Pope faced East while he prayed (why not? I always try to, when I can) there was no Koran-kissin’ going on, which is as it should be.

I always thought JPII, who for all that he was a holy man was also trained in theater, sometimes got a little carried away with the theatrical aspects of a moment, and I think that’s what happened when he kissed a Koran so long ago. Papa Ratzi is not inclined to drama. He put on some comfy clean socks, respected where he was at, but kept his lips to himself.

The pictures of the mosque show some beautiful arcitecture. The pictures from Hagia Sophia should be remarkable, too.

Benedict seems to be getting some thoughtful and nice coverage in the secular press and in the Turkish press. Since I have not seen televised coverage, I have no idea if they are reflecting any of the substance of what Benedict is saying - images are so much more powerful for broadcasters, than words. I like this story about his celebrating Mass at a Marian Shrine in Ephesus.

Rocco has gorgeous photos and excellent excerpts of remarks by both Pope Benedict and Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I that are really good reads.

Jim Geraghty is updating his running commentary on the pope and takes issue with an Oliphant cartoon. Yes, Oliphant is being an adolescent again. Still. Perpetually.

American Papist has yet another great picture. I got an email from someone who, watching the pope on EWTN was very moved by the singing and reverence of the Turkish Christians. Wish I’d seen it.

The pope may not be everyone’s cuppa tea, but he’s a great theologian…or at least he’s better than this fellow, who says Christians should give up some of the stuff they believe, so the Muslims will like them better. Yes, he’s a “Christian theologian.” And, apparently a pretty confused one. H/T Dr. Melissa Clothier, who points to some amusing news about a nativity set up.

The Murk in Iraq:

It wouldn’t have to be so murky if the press was differently inclined, I guess, but bloggers are following up on this story about the dubious sources involved in the “burned alive” story. The press is even starting to pay heed and ask (careful) questions.

The AP is digging in, of course, and insisting that one un-named source and a fellow that can’t be found is plenty convincing to them! Curt at Flopping Aces is not backing down, either.

While Gaius rightly notes that the AP is refusing to retract or correct their story, Seedubya is noticing that the AP is amending it a little. They’re probably hoping a little amendment will make Curt and everyone else go away. I don’t think that’s going to happen.

And as ever, Michelle Malkin is breathtaking in her ability to roundup and update on a story. She follows through and picks up some interesting and thought-provoking tid-bits from many sources.

Classical Values rips the press, while Ace sums up the AP’s position in a sentence and credits Michael Fumento with creating a new buzzword: Virtual Reporting.

A soldier accuses the press of fanning the flames, and Democracy Project is starting a letter-writing campaign.

Ed Driscoll is wondering why, allasudden, the press seems to be enthusiastically reporting that Iran is -gasp- training terrorists for Iraq and might not be trustworthy. I’m wondering why, too. I do not suspect altruism or a burning desire to report truth, truth, truth.

Gateway, meanwhile, points out that AP sources also told them about a 60-mile trench, and the AP believed that, too!

Rusty Shackleford brings us an important arrest in Iraq which you probably missed. The other day I wrote:

If she continues to fight, America will continue to weaken AlQaeda. If that weakness can be sustained while Middle Eastern liberty is allowed to gain a foothold, it will eventually break AlQ and de-glamorize terrorism as a means of movement. If America folds, if she “stops” the war, because the NY Times and NBC don’t like it, what do you think will happen next? Think hard. The answer is important.

We are weakening AlQaeda.

On other topics:
Jules Crittenden points our attention to a heroic little girl.

Laura Lee writes about another, long ago, little girl.

And Newton writes of a little girl waiting to be born. Egad, Newt, it feels like you’ve been pregnant forever! What is the name gonna be, already???

Dr. Sanity points to and expounds upon this insightful piece by Selwyn Duke on how we will lose our freedom of speech. A must-read.

There isn’t much free speech on college campuses lately, that’s for sure. And those are bastions of liberalism, right?

Finally, Siggy says someone has found the Holy Grail. Well, the someone is Gagdad Bob and the Grail is another psychologist. But it’s like the same thing, right?

Oh! And the very excellent Richard Miniter has joined Pajamas Media - here is a multi-parter on the Flying Imams and it’s really good.

In my opinion CBS’ Dick Meyer does some of his best writing when he is zeroing in on cognitive dissonance and the sociological themes no one else writes about. He’s got something to say and I’m grateful he says it, and that he does not focus exclusively on politics and policy the way too many do.

I love this piece by Meyer over at the CBS site, and I think St. Benedict - who cautions us in his Rule not to get caught up in ownership - would have loved it, too.

Meyer finds himself engaged by an article in a magazine whose whole purpose is supposedly to help one simplify one’s life:

I’ll embarrassingly confess to having a real bad Real Simple moment. I randomly picked up the magazine off a table one day and was immersed in April’s expose, “Clean By The Clock: Easy steps to tackle any room — no matter how much (or how little) time you have.”

When I got excited about the microfiber towels, I realized I had gone off the deep end. What did I care about any of this nonsense? Would my family be better off in any way if we used Windex instead of the recommend Oxi Miracle Foam Spray? This is diseased thinking.

He’s quite right, and our society is increasingly caught up in the idea that as long as one has the “right” stuff, one is the “right” sort of person.

He continues: We have been brainwashed into believing or acting as if the most minute consumer decisions should be both optimal and expressions of our individuality and taste. Marketers have infiltrated status, brand worship and lust for “the best” into the most trivial corners our lives. There is a Real Simple for almost everything you can imagine: computers, home entertainment technology, clothes, shoes, gardening, sports equipment, travel and, absurdly, even storage.

In Kathleen Norris’ lyrical book, The Cloister Walk (which I can’t believe I haven’t yet put in The Bookshelf; it’s a classic!) she writes of a Benedictine Abbot who expresses his frustration with the increasing number of cereal choices appearing in the abbey refectory: (paraphrased) “How many sorts of cereal do we need to select from in order to maintain our basic bodily health and assuage our need for individuality?”

I know I am less and less inclined to go into those big “super stores” because I am exhausted and sometimes befuddled by the excesses of choice. I don’t want to live in a world where I have no choices…but I find it almost oppressive to try to pick out my humble toothpaste from a 7 foot, 5-row display of toothpastes of every variation imaginable. In fact, I wonder if some of that excess is not part of why we Americans are trending toward social isolation. Perhaps we are simply overwhelmed, our synapses are fried.

Writes Meyer: Some choice is good; too much creates anxiety and frustration. Eight types of sponge is too much choice.

It’s a good piece - entertainingly written, a little dry and caustic but with a serious message at its core.

Yes, I am still working on my project.

No, you cannot know about it. There be dragons!