"Oh right, you like the Latin Mass..."

Translation: "You think you're better than everyone because you like the 'Latin Mass.'"

Of course.

While you're at it, know that I'm also really proud of my humility, never gave up in my quest for perfect perseverance, and never judge those evil sinners who think so lowly of me, wretched creatures that they are. To quote an underappreciated president: "Believe me."

Or believe another truth: I prefer the Latin Mass because I think it is, in fact, superior. I also vote Conservative because I much prefer them to Trudeau's libs, will always choose my own garden produce to store bought veggies, and buy Adidas underwear because of its well-crafted thread work, comfortable feel, and affordable cost. And for what matters most in life, the Mass, I think the Latin Mass to be superior.

Honestly. If you go to a Novus Ordo Mass then I would hope the heck that you think it is superior to a Latin Mass. Why on earth would you go otherwise? The two are not the same. Not unless you are blind, deaf, numb to smell, and all-together incapable of observing any differences. They are quite different. Jesus is Jesus and the Mass is Mass aside. They are very different. So go to the Novus Ordo. But if you do, I would hope you think it is superior. Because the alternative is that you haven't thought of this at all. The world has enough mindless Catholics. Catholics that weaken daily. Choose the Novus Ordo Mass, ridiculous abuses aside, because you think the simplicity and spoken parts are to be preferred. Or, perhaps, because you just don't get the Latin Mass. "What on earth could be so appealing? What is being said? Why all the kneeling and incense? And they surely all hate Pope Francis too!"

Indeed, think of your best arguments pro-Novus Ordo, anti-Usus Antiquior. Though I would recommend you read Peter Kwasniewski's book Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness. He'll state all of your thoughts and concerns clearly for you. He'll get to the heart of each argument you are trying to enunciate. Just be warned that he will then take said argument and utterly rip it apart, smash it, jump on it, and more or less annihilate the objections with a sed contra and respondeo which will leave the objection holder with the mere reply of, "Yeah, well... maybe it's not!"

I say this perhaps too brashly, though I hope it is seen more of a conviction of belief in something. That the world needs beauty, not whitewashed walls and folk worship. That Latin is both a unifying and extraordinary mode of speaking heavenly realities. That worship should be set apart from, not conforming to, the world. That Eucharistic Prayers from the 1960s are not actually how the early Church prayed, but rather that we need continuity with tradition, both small and large T. And perhaps above all else the conviction that we need to stop being so lazy when it comes to the most important thing we will do each week, or each day: attending Mass.

We need to study our faith. We need to think through our faith. Now is not the time for mere doing what everybody else is doing and essentially weakening our own resolve, convictions, and desire for what elevates. Life will not get any easier, at least for the faithful. The faithful must stand firm in what they believe. I believe the Latin Mass is superior. This is intellectual. This is also experienced. You won't hear me say: "Oh, you think you're better than me because you go to the Novus Ordo Mass." So don't think the same of me. Think about what you worship. And may God lead us all closer to Him. Life won't get easier. But, as a certain singer once said, it's a good life, if you don't weaken.

My Thoughts Exactly

Catchy title? My thoughts exactly.


Pentecost

Happy 1985th birthday to the Church. Give or take a few years based on mistakes with the calendar. Pentecost was always a favourite Sunday around here for the theologically-ghetto post-Conciliar get-back-to-the-garden Mass destructionists. A few innovations that come to mind which we had to endure in Nipawin:

a) Wear Holy Spirit Colours!
That's right. Come to Mass in red. Or orange. Fire! Lots of fire colours. We are Church. We set the world ablaze, for we have the Spirit. But hey, it still beats pink shirt anti-bullying day. Though don't give that idea to anyone at church.

b) The Fan.
Ok, picture this, the reader proclaims the account of Pentecost from the Acts of the Apostles. When he comes to the part about a great wind descending upon the apostles, someone in a back room cranks up the fans in the church, creating a great rush of wind upon the people in the pews. No doubt the congregation is greatly excited and inspired by this, and once again the Church of Us sheds its horrible traditional roots and becomes a new Pentecost for the benefit of the world.

c) The Tongues

I've spoken on this before. Perhaps the weirdest of all, and still ongoing. Picture this. It's time to recite the Our Father. And the priest pipes up: "I invite everyone to say the Our Father in a different language if they know one." You say babble, I say Babel. Let's just call the whole thing off. The fruits being that we decrease the numbers of the Church by thousands.


Royal Wedding

There was no point in checking the news yesterday. Everything centered around this royal wedding. Are they still married? I never cared much for the royals, one way or the other. However, since the British tragedy of killing little Alfie Evans, with only the sound of crickets coming from Buckingham palace, or wherever it is they live, I now absolutely can't stand these people. And that goes for the Queen as well. Though I'm not quite up to SCTV's infamous Queen Haters band.


Sadness

Emilie was acting up. I sent her to the corner. My heart...

Riders

Roughrider training camp begins today. That's exciting. I predict we host a home playoff game this year.


Playoffs

The NHL playoffs are still on. It's safe to say, "NHL, you've lost me." Yes the Jets are still in, but I just don't have the will to sit around and watch teams from Tampa Bay, or even Vegas, anymore.


28

28 more days of school (30 days of work) until summer vacation begins. We do not know what to do this summer. Life works best when we fill up summer with projects and activities. Otherwise the kids follow us around the house in sheer boredom. Some possible ideas we/I have: Landscaping our yard a little nicer. Building some items such as a TV stand, shelves, etc. Taking a trip to Edmonton and Jasper (the price of ga$ may make this difficult, but if not this year, when?). Either way, I absolutely love the feeling of walking out of the school at 1pm on June 30th of each year. It is a feeling of accomplishment, excitement, and relief. And then I remember that I won't get another paycheck for 3 months...


Pegasus

I'll end with a quote. Joseph was reading a book on the couch.

Joseph: "Hey, this story has a flying horse in it!"

Dad: "That's called a Pegasus."

John Paul: "No, it's called a horsefly!"

Regina Caeli

The Regina Caeli. Sung from Easter until Pentecost. There is a tradition that St. Gregory the Great, on his way to visit St. Luke's painting of the Blessed Virgin one Easter morning in Rome, heard some angels singing the first three lines. Thus inspired, he added the fourth line. Believe this story if you wish. I'm certain it is far more beautiful than any story of how Dan Schutte wrote his songs (I think that's what they are called).

I miss singing the Regina Caeli once the Easter season ends. Catholicism has a way about it. It cycles from season to season with just the right amount of time appropriated. Each season, then, is both familiar and new. "Behold I make all things new" is undoubtedly applicable to the liturgical life.

Though our time is fleeting, the "New" Millette Choir continues to sing. And then, like packing away our Christmas tree and manger, we will sadly store this treasure until next year. In the meantime, there are many ever new "old" chants to be learned and cherished.

Fools, said I, you do not know...

The end is near. Surely it must be! I'll guess many thought so during Russian communism, Robespierre's reign of terror, or perhaps even during the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Somehow the world, as we know it, remains. The world did not end. They were wrong. Surely I must not be.

The signs of the end times are a puzzle, but I gather the desperate attempt to discombobulate the Divine will factor in significantly. The anti-Christ will employ anti-Christian tenets. For instance, the family is the foundation of society, and the treasure of which God Himself chose to employ in salvation history. The world presents the anti-family. There is no limit to the distortion currently seen. Some think that how could this not be the end times? Another anti-Christ tactic involves truth. Truth is God Himself. We currently are enslaved in the dictatorship of relativism, as Pope Benedict so aptly describes. Why, even high ranking Vatican officials teach that 2+2=5.

I could go on and on. But there is one aspect of which I think must be attacked in an even greater fashion before this world, and its glory, must pass away. In the Pentateuch God began the fulfillment of the deepest desire of the Israelites by teaching them how to worship. In the Triduum Christ fulfilled this work. Man cannot live without true worship. Therefore, there must be an anti-worship.

Anti-worship. Post Vatican II shenanigans aside, including the kicking to the curb of the Mass of the Ages (which is NOT going away, and will continue to preserve an important sacrificial necessity of the Church), anti-worship is a possibility I shudder to consider. And let me also say Black-Masses aside as well. I am looking at a mainstream anti-worship. One the "masses" will follow. Msgr. Benson, in Lord of the World, recognized such a possibility for secular anti-worship. And even Simon and Garfunkel admitted as much, for "the people bowed and prayed, to the neon god they made."

Yet I am not convinced we have come even close to the fullness of what an anti-worship could resemble. I happily cannot contrive what terrors hell might unleash. Though earlier in the week dare I say I was shown a glimpse of a world beginning to claw at the idea. I speak of, and refuse to show pictures of, the hideous Church themed MET Gala. The world's chosen, dressing the part of the godless, world kissing and embracing the Church. And the Church, for its part under Cardinal Dolan and company, kissing and embracing the godless world.

The world knows it needs worship. It needs to "dress up" and organically create and join in unison and commune and praise and even, as a terrifying climax, sacrifice. The world is clawing at a need for anti-worship. Perhaps when said and done, as with the family, we will be amazed at the destruction caused by distorting worship.

In some ways the end is near. In other ways, we have a long way to go. "Fools, said I, you do not know..."

Spring Adventures: Rafts, Water & Bugs

I promised some pictures of our spring adventures. 

The boys (and sometimes Emilie) have been very busy making bows and arrows, digging trenches for water, siphoning water, building and using a raft, making home-made fishing rods, and digging tunnels in the last of the snow.

Grandma Bear visited us for a week in April. The timing was perfect for us! And perfect for digging snow and mud:

 

The kids read so many books with Grandma that I had to inform them when she left that I  wasn't going to be reading 50 books a day...

Earlier this week, the kids went ladybug hunting in the backyard. Emilie loves watching them, but isn't so sure about having them crawl all over her. Joseph is an expert at catching and keeping them contained. John Paul is the exuberant, jumping celebrant of new finds!!

By the time they were finished catching as many as they felt like, there were ladybugs everywhere climbing all over each other. This only shows about half the final capture:

We spent two days last weekend in Nipawin, soaking in the sun, the acreage life, and... water. The back field floods every year. By the time we visited, the water had gone down a lot, but was still too high to cross in boots, so the boys just had to go boating.

An old horse barrel did the trick...

 

Joseph was very adept with the bucket and paddle. Me? Not so much. Too heavy and unbalanced.

Grandpa helped matters. He had leftover Styrofoam just begging to be used. He and the boys built a raft. Everyone tried it. Joseph even ferried Emma (the dog) back and forth and Grandpa across, but I didn't have the camera (Grandpa wadded through the trees in his bare feet to get back... so, maybe he wasn't so sure about Joseph's skill?).
 

Even Emilie tried it out... briefly. She was the only one just not feeling it.

A Sad Place

Last Friday, on our way to Nipawin, we stopped at the Armley Corner to say a prayer. I just snapped a few pictures so you could see what it is like. There are many mementos, crosses, and hockey sticks present. One of the more striking items left that I noticed was a game ticket for the Friday of the crash.

It is a very sad place to visit. But we're glad we did.

 

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let Thy perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of 
the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.