Habemus Papam: Benedict XVI!

Viva il Papa Benedict XVI! Papa JPII must have very powerful prayers. :) His right hand man is now Pope, and the Flock will follow behind him as loyally as ever.
If anyone wants to be thoroughly shocked, check out the prophecies of St. Malachy. (Link to follow.)
Fr. Matthew, as a Benedictine, will be happy tonight. The Church as a whole rejoices!

Watch the Smoke

The conclave has convened. Watch the smoke!

I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

Look. I love Fr. Matthew. He's my favorite priest/monk of all-time minus the saints. I have images of walking through the woods with him, he in his long black habit and long walking stick, me laughing, "You love us Father! We're your children!" I have images of him teasing me about practically everything and then accepting my constant taunts back at him (or did I start it?) I have visions of him lecturing for hours about Canon Law and Doctrine and actually quoting verbatim various codes and encyclicals. He's a wonderful priest. I would do anything for him. I'd take a bullet for him. But there's one thing I wouldn't do, as I found out yesterday. After liturgy he came and got two of us and brought us out of the church with a conspiratorial grin on his face. "What are you doing Thursday?" he asked. I said, "Nothing Father. Why?" I was looking forward already to doing whatever he mentioned. My hopes were dashed as he mentioned there was a hiking trip that he and a parishoner were going on. It turned out he needed at least one other person to come (a priest alone with a girl? Can't happen, especially these days. That's where I came in.) Well, I'm no professional hiker but my dad raised me competant enough to handle a decent amount of walking, or even managing some slopes. So, although I was disappointed, knowing hiking was not my strength, I still figured I could go. Good thing I asked how long the trek was. "12 miles," he said offhandedly, as if it was no big deal. "12 miles!?" I shrieked at him (I'm always shrieking at him. This was, by the way, after he called my shoes 'bowling shoes' just to mock me. So he asks for this treatment.) Then Barbara (coordinator) comes in and starts assuring me I could do it. Father is certain as well. I hum and haw then say I'll call Barbara that day to confirm. I feel strange about it walking out, so in the car I call my dad. He would know what I could do. Anything nature-like I've ever done I've done with him, pretty much. "Dad, could I do a 12 mile hike?" "12 miles!? Does it have to be 12 miles?" he demands. "Um, yeah. The Ukie priest is taking us." "No, no, you can't do 12 miles. You could do 6 miles." "That's it? Didn't we walk from--" "That wasn't 12 miles!" "It wasn't?" It had felt like it. Good thing I called Dad. I called Barbara right back and laid the chips out on the table for her. Look, I'll do anything for my love of Fr. Matthew and my Ukie church, but NOT THAT!

This Little Light of Mine

This little light of mine
I'm going to let it shine
Oh, this little light of mine
I'm going to let it shine
Hallelujah
This little light of mine
I'm going to let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine
Ev'ry where I go
I'm going to let it shine
Oh, ev'ry where I go
I'm going to let it shine
Hallelujah
Ev'ry where I go
I'm going to let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine
All in my house
I'm going to let it shine
Oh, all in my house
I'm going to let it shine
Hallelujah
All in my house
I'm going to let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine
I'm not going to make it shine
I'm just going to let it shine
I'm not going to make it shine
I'm just going to let it shine
Hallelujah
I'm not going to make it shine
I'm just going to let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine
Out in the dark
I'm going to let it shine
Oh, out in the dark
I'm going to let it shine
Hallelujah
Out in the dark
I'm going to let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

-Old Negro Spiritual

Eliotian

Me: I wrote this thing about Macon.
Him: Really? Wow. Hey I know someone who wrote something. Are you published?
Me: ...No, not yet. See, I have this dilemma. I write about the South, but I'm not from the South. I'm from New York. I don't know what to do.
Him: That's not a problem. Why is that a problem?
Me: Because what am I? A Southern author? Is this Southern literature?
Him: Of course it is. Anything about the South is Southern literature.
Me: I don't know. This latest thing. It's about Macon.
Him: Tell me about it.
Me: It takes place on the Ocmulgee. And in the Rose Hill Cemetery.
Him: Wow. I know all about those places.
Me: It's really weird though. It starts revolving around TS Eliot. You know him?
Him: Yeah. Well, I mean, I don't really like Eliot.
Me: Have you read him?
Him: Not really, but....
Me: Well, I love him. So in the book I quote him a lot, the characters dig him, and at the end the whole thing gets really Eliotian, into this--what?
Him: What's that you said?
Me: What?
Him: That word? What was it?
Me: Eliotian?
Him: Eliotian?
Me: Right. Pertaining to Eliot.
Him: That's a real word?
Me: ....yessss.
Him: Eliotian.

Fr. Matthew

Seems Fr. Matthew is not at all convinced of the visionary we saw the other night. I love Fr. Matthew. He's one of my people, pretty young, and very orthodox. But not Orthodox with a big O. Last night he proved that and I breathed a big sigh of relief. See, in the Eastern Churches there is a lot of Orthodox sympathy. Then there are the Uniates, like me, who are completely obeidiant to Papa. The Orthodox call the Uniates "traitors" and basically resent us for reuniting with Rome 500 years ago. I was scared maybe Fr. Matthew was Orthodox minded but he's not. He proved it to me last night. He's not, however, very keen on the Latin Catholics either so, he's exactly a Ukrainian Catholic. I can dig that, even if I am basically just as Latin as I am Ukrainian.
Chris Matthews on Hardball (who has two aunts who are nuns) told everyone to take their priest to dinner. There are a lot of lonely priests. So now Fr. Matthew is going out with us on Thursday. Awesome. I thought we'd have to cajole him into it but he actually seemed quite pleased. Fr. Matthew isn't only awesome, but he looks awesome. He's taken Benedictine monk vows, so he's a monk (I guess?) as well as a parish priest. He wears this huge black hat and this cool black cassock under his vestments. His parish is HUGE, since his is the only Ukrainian church in the region. When asked where his parish stretches, he'll stop and think and then say, "My parish stretches from, hmmm, Alabama to Florida, to the Carolinas, all of Georgia....etc." It's awesome. It's funny, and he knows it, because obviously though his territory is that immense, those people can't drive all that way. So every Sunday his tiny chapel is still not full, while the Latin parish down the street is packed. What a great priest.

Visionary

We went to see a visionary last night which was very cool to say the least. I'm almost convinced of him. He sees Mary every day. He saw Mary while we were there in church. Anyways, on the way back we were going 45 (thank God not any faster) and this white van pulls out in front of us. We were going to hit it head-on. We had no time to check behind or in the next lane, we just hammered the brakes and swerved into the next lane. It was obvious we were going to hit the van. What was a toss-up was whether we'd it it head on or not. If we it it head-on, well, there'd be some busy people at the nearest hospital. So we brake and swerve and we don't even HIT the van. We don't even HIT it! Everyone's perfectly fine, except maybe the road has some tire marks. We just look at each other, comment on how miraculous that is, and then go: "A Rosary in thanksgiving to Mary. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. I believe in God...."
The strangest part was that I wasn't even scared as we were driving into the side of the van. Maybe it was because he had just been laughing at a joke. But really, it was like I just knew we wouldn't die. I thought we'd certainly be in an accident, but die? Nah.

Santo Subito!

The Pope's funeral has just ended. I'm struck by how simple it was. Other than the Mass, there seemed to be very little that went on. It was shorter than I assumed it would be, and not much different than I would expect for any Catholic. Of course there was the choir, and the Cardinals, and the massive (did I say massive?) international crowd. But I mean the actual program of events. There was the procession wherein the Pope's coffin was brought out in front of the altar, and a book of the Gospels placed on top. The wind blew the pages and then finally in an act of symbolism, closed the book. Then the funeral Mass began, and after it was ended the Litany of the Saints was sung--but not before a long stretch of time that had to be allotted for the crowd, who began chanting "Giovanni Paulo!" and "Santo!" Banners reading "Santo Subito!" (Saint soon!) were huge and waving all over the place. Then the Cardinals gathered around the coffin and there were sung prayers by the Eastern Church Cardinals. Then an acolyte picked the Gospels up off the coffin rather curtly, and the pall bearers moved in. They headed towards the basillica, but in an act of mercy for the crowd, they turned around once more and paused for a second, letting everyone see the beloved Pontiff one last time (before the resurrection.)
A large bell in the square was tolling louding, solemnly, and then the coffin was gone, the Cardinals were gone, the dignitaries were gone, and it was over.
The Cardinals have gathered underground in the crypt to say more prayers for the Pope before the actual burial; but as far as the public is concerned, we'll never see Pope John Paul II again, not in this lifetime. Well, as far as I and millions of others are concerned: Pope St. John Paul the Great.

Edison and Renee Out West

Lucy, Eddy and I are obviously ready to go to Texas now. :)
http://photobucket.com/albums/y138/eddyandrenee/
Sonar, I invited Chuksy into our photo romp as well for the moment so people can see what this fabled African warrior looks like. He shan't remain long.

Amen

Of course news reports and rumors are flying at the moment, but according to several stories, these things occured in the final hours before Papa's death:
Addressing those closest to him, in his room, he said: "I am happy; be it so unto you."
Outside his window, a large group of young people were loudly praying the Rosary. He said several times, over and over, addressing them: "I have searched for you. Now you have come to me. And I thank you."
Then, as the young people, whom he had shown so much love towards and received so much love from over the years, finished the Rosary, Papa struggled with all his remaining strength to make a faint blessing with his hand towards the window, and said, "Amen." It was his final word, and then he was in the hands of Mary.

As a side note, a couple days ago when I added to the book of petitions at the back of the Catholic Center, I saw that a child had written: "good luck to the Pope in heaven."

Meet Pope John Paul II

Watch this with the sound on.... http://www.daughtersofstpaul.com/johnpaulpapacy/index.html

The Pope is dead
Yet he lives on
I hear him still
Though he is gone
And Easter joy
Flows in my heart
For from my love
He'll never part
Just as our Savior
Bright and True
Rose from the tomb
So he will too
And one day I
As well will rise
And gaze into my Papa's eyes.
Amen, JP2, "Amen."

Viva il Papa!

I love you, Papa. I once was praying for you. Now I am praying to you.

John Paul Two We Love You

I called Anu but couldn't get an answer so I caleld Ikenna (imagine that.) He was in a great mood but obviously not very happy when I told him about Papa. He and his friend Bobby promised to pray and also call the rest of the family. I felt bad about calling so late but they were just eating dinner and Ikenna kept thanking me for calling. We talked about his conference in Portland with the Catholic Medical Association (impressive) and how we're going to meet up. I have no clue how FC is going to take this. Most likely he'll be as thrilled as I am. Of course we both wish it could be him with the solved visa issue. Mixed feelings.
I have no mixed feelings on Papa dying, however. Well, maybe I do. I feel happy for him but very concerned for the Church. Pray.

Welcome Back

Welcome back everyone! I was just complaining to Lucy that all my commenters have left me, but then you all returned. Awww...or maybe I just returned? Hmmm....
Rakesh made me come to a law school talent show at the 40 Watt yesterday...interesting to say the least. Most painful was this "comedian" who bombed, and apparently bombs every year but refuses to admit he's not funny. Sad. Then Rakesh told me Clay is thinking of going to law school...guess where? Possibly Regent! Ha ha ha! Seriously. But Rakesh claims Clay didn't know the lovely Sali was there until he told him. Don't worry, Sali, Clay wouldn't be getting there until after you graduated. :) In fashion news I bought a retro paisley poncho (I had to) and okayed it with Brent and Stevie (well, Steve wasn't convinced, but Brent said Wear it.) Now I have to find one of those Western cowgirl shirts. The cheapest one I could find was 30$.

In a turn of events, after we were all let out of the dark room (boy, was it dark) Dr. Brazil and those thugs tried acting like it was all a treatment we'd signed up for! After the peyote and everything. So we got out of there but Cletus stayed like we assumed and Patrick said to expect a lawyer. Ouch. We got home and Paul calls to say Paisley Sky's doing well (very well) and the legalities really need to be sorted out. So he takes a lawyer back to Sedona to straighten it out with Brazil and Cletus, but meanwhile Tony and I run to ATL to give Mickey (who's managing Kenny Dowel) a swift kick in the behind for getting Cletus started on those sentences.
We sit in the front row and BAM! There's Mickey predictably ordering everyone around from the stage before Kenny gets on and we start laughing and he hears us so he comes over and he's shocked. I mean I just fired him a week ago. He pulls us backstage and we tell him what's up and WOOWEE he knows nothing of it. He says Brazil's a fraud (we knew THAT) and dangerous for Cletus and claims he never told Cletus to sign his life over to Brazil. He's as shocked as we are. I hug him (never thought I'd say that huh?) and we reconcile cuz he decides to go to Sedona with John on a plan and get Cletus OUT. Then Tony and I put on these bizarre t-shirts the whole Mickey crew is wearing (I'M THE MICKEY DOWNS) and everything seems hopeful. I can't believe I don't hate that kid anymore. Charlatan or not, he's gonna save my Cletus.