I signed the petition. Have you?

Don't let this horrible scandal get swept under the rug. Pray, first and foremost. But also act. There needs to be, at the very least, a full independent investigation. Not creepy silence. Sign the petition HERE.

August: swimming lessons, cousins {photos}

 

Joseph and John Paul LOVED swimming lessons and made great progress. We did lessons the very last week of summer and the last week the pool was open. The 'fun day' Friday turned out to be a chilly, windy day with parents bundled up in sweaters and jackets. But the kids had a blast and it didn't stop them from trying out the slide, diving board, and diving platform (check out Joseph doing a 'dive' from the platform PFD and all, above). 

We spent an overnight in Humboldt to round off the last week of summer. While the dads/grandpa poured concrete in the garage (and then golfed in the cold the following morning), the kids and moms had a blast hanging out and playing. Dress-up, Lego, babies, ice cream parlour... it was tons of fun! The highlight was watching a big badger saunter across the acreage front lawn and disappear into the cut wheat field. When the boys thought a mound of dirt was the trespassing badger still hanging around, Aunty Rocky had to go with her stick to 'kill the badger' (aka. prove them wrong!).

Taylor Marshall and the Devil Hates Latin

First off, here is a video posted by Dr. Taylor Marshall yesterday which I found to be extremely helpful in providing context with our current Church crisis. Not pleasant, mind you, but definitely helpful. You need to watch it.

Without losing one's head, some key points must be considered. If Pope Francis did indeed reinstate Cardinal McCarrick, then this couldn't have possibly been a simple: "Whoops, I thought he was a nice guy. I was just being merciful and full of accompaniment..." No, it would definitely signal the beginning of the end for Pope Francis. It would clearly mean that, well... I'm not really ready to get into talk like that yet. I have a thousand possible scenarios playing out in my mind about what is going on, and has been going on for some time, but they must remain unspoken.


One thought that returns to me frequently is the book which I read nearly one year ago: The Devil Hates Latin. The authour uses a pen name to avoid recognition. I remember the horrible details of abuse, power, and cover up (think professional hit teams, leaders targeting seminarians, drug money, and so forth) in this "fictional" story. It was apparent that the author knew things in the Vatican. But to see many such details in this book come to fruition in real life, right before our eyes? Chilling.

The book also provides a solution to these extreme events. The Church itself. The Mass, particularly the sacrificial cleansing offered in the Latin Mass, as well as the systematic expulsion of the demonic via the Church's Latin prayers,  works, and exorcisms. In other words, if the problem is rooted in demonic activity, it must be uprooted seriously, in the proper form.

We will continue to pray for all those directly involved in this mess. Also, I hope Archbishop Vigano is living somewhere safe and hidden right now...

Summer Projects 2018 - The easiest summer to date

I write with fear and trepidation that I must officially return to work in less than two days. As I say every year, I'm not sure where the summer went. While the highlight of the summer was definitely our trip to Jasper, there was some work that needed tending to at home. And thus I bring you the latest edition of summer projects, the easiest summer to date.

First, immediately before and after our trip to the mountains, I worked on updating our fence. I called it the lipstick on a pig project.



The old girl was, to quote Vanilla Ice, "dated and hated," and "hurtin' for certain." We scraped excess paint, which took quite a while. Then the painting occurred, which took even more than quite a while. You know you've made it in life when you can dedicate countless hours to repainting a rotting fence. Oh well, I just want to get a few more years out of this fence (i.e. move before someone discovers its true character).

The result:









There was a little too much white going on, so the boys and I built a little wood rack attached to the shed. I also made a little black maple leaf. I insisted on black for a colour because our country is in mourning as long as we have Trudeau as prime minister.

And just like that, my biggest project of the summer was over. Lame a bit?

Our water cooler in the kitchen was gross. I tried cleaning it but these coolers are designed so complicated that they don't clean very well. So eventually we chucked it and bought a basin for our water jugs. Simple. I built a little stand to go with it. I mainly just wanted to try galvanized pipes in a project.

Becca told me to clean up my tools in the basement laundry room. I needed just a bit more storage (and some work space) so I took the map top from an old desk we had and built some legs and shelves.

The tiling work is what Joseph did, all on his own, back when he was four. This little space actually is now one of my favourite parts of the house. I've spent many hours standing there working on little items. It's quiet and peaceful.

We needed a new TV stand, and a nicer book shelf/ storage spot in our living room. So here we go:

This project I originally did with grey tops. But Becca really really wanted the brown tops (i.e. "change them or else..."). So I whipped up some brown baskets for them. 

I had some grey tops and baskets left over, which I designed into a mini-sewing shelf. Whether it actually gets used as such I can't say. But at least it could be used for such a purpose.

In theory you can get a little table out of it. I just need to find some new castors that can lock into place (sigh, Tisdale doesn't sell any).

A side project has taken place on my parent's acreage in Nipawin. My dad has been bringing home scrap wood that has been left for rot, de-nailing them, and helping the boys with a fun project: a treehouse!

Hammering nails:

We put up some railings and balusters the other day. I think eventually we'll build a little roof shelter over part of it. Anyway, the boys already have water guns left in place to defend their fort. They also love being given ice cream and other snacks to take up to the fort to eat.

In truth, the main project all summer has been our garden in Nipawin. It's a lot more difficult when you have to travel 40 plus minutes to work on it. Ideally you'd do a little bit everyday. But we are extremely thankful for a plot of earth at the acreage to grow food to feed our family. It's good to get one's hands dirty. The harvest has been very plentiful thus far.

The remainder of the garden, along with all our canning work, will need to be done late at night during school days. The motivation of eating good fruit and veggies in the winter will (hopefully) carry us through on those upcoming long days.

Thus ends Summer Projects 2018: The easiest summer to date.

Rustic as a Search for the Divine

Frequently I take jabs from others for my "rustic" style. "Yeah, you just build shabby stuff and call it rustic. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to Ikea now... how divinely modern and inspired!" Just remember that when you point at me there are three fingers pointing back at yourself. Not too shabby of a comeback. However, not to make this too serious of a topic, I would like to argue today that young people who seek the rustic look in their homes are simply, in a way, seeking the Divine. There, nothing too deep or anything.

Rustic is from the Latin rusticus, or rus, meaning from the countryside. The rustic look is characterized by such items as barnwood, farmhouse décor, and just about anything that reminds someone of country life. "So... old stuff that looks beaten and shabby... right?"

Rustic is quite desirable these days. People, often younger, spend great amounts of money on items that are manufactured to look rustic. Wood is distressed. Metal frames are scratched up. Tractor seats are made into island bar stools. Some of these elements are simply ridiculous *cough* HomeSense *cough*. Others, particularly authentic pieces, do hint at a deeper yearning.

Take wood, for instance. There is a fascination with old wood. Many young people love the idea of wood that shows age and wear, yet has stood the test of time. There is a permanence, charm, and strength-filled structure to such material. Better still when the wood tells a story. Be it a piece from an old barn, to a piece from Grandma's old house, wood, as a rustic piece, can tell a story. I am certainly guilty of such sentiment.

I made a treehouse when I was younger. I was rather proud of it. As the years went by the tree house eventually collapsed under the weight of snow. I know I know, not exactly "strength-filled structure." Nevermind, I was maybe ten at the time. A couple of years ago I salvaged a piece from the old ladder I had built for the treehouse and made it into a chalk board frame. This chalk board rests in our dining area.

Or consider my old hockey rink. Countless hours were spent out in the backyard. Forty below or not. I swiped some boards to make a picture frame and towel rack. The towel rack still has black rubber puck marks on it. "How shabby." Perhaps. Though not to me.

Picture painted by Nancy Garez as a wedding present for Becca and I.

An old sliding door in our basement made from wood from our old horse lean-to. Yes, it's not new looking. It looks old and country-esque. It brings the country into the home.

Alas, let me return to my original thought, that being rustic as a yearning for God. I think of the Tridentine Mass. It is old. It has stood the test of time. Its perceived imperfections ("why does the priest cross himself so many times?.." tell a theological story. They speak a way of life that we too soon forget. That priest who crosses himself various times recalls aspects of the Christian life. The five wounds of Christ, the three Persons in the Trinity, and so on. The rustic style recalls a foundational life. One of farming, of settling a land, of hard work and virtue. Of permanence, strength, and Divine transcendence. Young people may not know anything about such history, yet they are attracted to this old, perhaps shabby looking, wood which yet seems so new and unique. So grounded. So beautiful. Though it is difficult to explain. Martin Mosebach, in The Heresy of Formlessness, does give a certain explanation:

"Artists in the great productive periods never concerned themselves with the problem of originality. It was when they believed they were venerating and lovingly cultivating an inherited great form that they created something new, something unique, something that had never been seen before. What is new, really new - not some cobbled-together experiment - comes unconsciously when an individual breathes new life into what is old. So it is in art" (p. 71).

 So the next time you wish to call someone's rustic touch "shabby junk," try to resist. There may be an unconscious search on the part the individual, and possibly some recognition, for Divine permanence. For what is true and beautiful.

And so, if you promise not to call my style shabby, I won't call you an Ikean iconoclast. Deal?

Assumption: Up in Cloud of Smoke

August 15th is a turning point in the summer. It is one last joyous feast day before the omni-present nudging of school must cease to be ignored. To make this great feast of Our Lady memorable, this year we undertook a mini-pilgrimage and camping trip. As you can imagine, we totally nailed this trip.

We excitedly packed our camping gear in the van that fine sunny morning. As we packed, memories of Jasper flooded our minds. A touch of the transcendent God. Surely we could recreate it. We decided to stay open to camping multiple nights. And so, we turned onto the highway heading West. "Rather smoky, hey?" "Yeah, you don't notice it until you get out on the highway..."

A moose passed right in front of us at one point. The main animal we didn't see on our earlier vacation. Surely a sign of God's benediction on us.

The smoke started to cloud our optimism on the day, but onward we pressed. Eventually, after a couple of hours of driving, we arrived at the shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes (St. Laurent). From there we took the kids for a tour and to say some special prayers to Our Lady.

After the longish drive and touring for roughly five minutes John Paul offered the following: "Can we go now?"

As we finished the prayers we looked up and noticed that the sky was an ominous yellow. At this point it was undeniable that we had headaches and sore throats caused by the smoke. To camp would be dangerous. To even continue on outside would be unhealthy.

We decided, after all the packing, driving, and hopeful expectations, to give our friends a call and say we wouldn't meet them for a cookout supper. We decided to head to Saskatoon for a quick bit of shopping before, gulp, going home.

Emilie screamed, not cried but screamed, the entire drive from the shrine to Saskatoon. Once in Saskatoon we did a quick Costco trip before going to Cabella's to return a tent. I don't know if you've ever returned a tent at Cabella's before. It is the most awkward experience you can imagine. Picture a guy bringing his new girlfriend to meet his parents for the first time. They are sitting around the supper table making light conversation about weather, gardens, and upcoming museum events. Then the dad turns to the girl and says: "So, what are your intentions? Are you two getting married?"

Awkward silence. Broken only by the choking of the son.

At Cabella's they surround you with a team of people. They take out the tent right in front of you to inspect. One of the team members takes you, nay your whole family, aside to discuss life. How kids must smile. How moose can have mohawks. How memories are made. Meanwhile I am sure the remainder of the team is doing a full criminal record check on my past, including looking for any facebook posts involving the tent. Nevermind that the salaries paid to the interrogation team during this time far outweigh the price of the actual tent. It's the principle of the matter. Finally we are released. We run to the vehicle. I sweat nervously as I drive away. I am sure I will be chased by a vehicle with shiny "Cabella's" written all over the front and side. Maye even some flashing lights on it. I nervously joke that this is "intense." But no, we are away. Clearly I can never return to the store.

One last stop at a mall. The kids are going nuts. Vehicles and shopping is not camping. We decide to eat a scrumptious meal at the food court before sadly driving way. The Chinese food instantly makes my stomach scream in pain. But the real screaming is from Emilie. She screams for an hour straight once we hit the road. Our nerves our shot. "Lord, may I never make a pilgrimage again." Finally she falls into a whimpering sleep for the final hour. Which means, of course, she stays up late at night once we get home. With our van packed bursting with unused camping gear in the back, we finally arrive home. Everyone is rather miserable. I vaguely promise the boys a movie night the next night (words which I will later regret... think Veggie Tales pirates...).

The Feast of the Assumption. Never assume you can create the perfect memory. Because when you assume you make an...

Oh well, totus tuus Maria. Even this.

Rosica's Spiritual Rain

This past weekend at a talk by Dr. Charles Robertson I was, with great delight, presented with one of my favourite passages from the unparalleled Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. The passage concerns a man, if you can call him that, named Rex Mottram. Rex is a sellout. He desires to be a legendary politician. He cares only for himself and his career. Rex would step on his own grandma if it merited media attention. In short, Rex is the ultimate modern man. As he prepares to marry the fallen away Catholic Julia Flyte, Rex simply wishes to get whatever Catholic paperwork done with in order to satisfy his utilitarian goal. The priest, Fr. Mowbray, is quite flabbergasted by Rex:

"Yesterday I asked him whether Our Lord had more than one nature. He said: 'Just as many as you say, Father.'

Then again I asked him: 'Supposing the Pope looked up and saw a cloud and said 'It's going to rain', would that be bound to happen?' 'Oh, yes, Father.' 'But supposing it didn't?' He thought a moment and said, "I suppose it would be sort of raining spiritually, only we were too sinful to see it.'" 

Yes, Rex Mottram is a one of a kind imbecile. Many years later, once his marriage is proved invalid, Julia comments: 

"You know Father Mowbray hit on the truth about Rex at once, that it took me a year of marriage to see. He simply wasn’t all there. He wasn’t a complete human being at all. He was a tiny bit of one, unnaturally developed: something in a bottle, an organ kept alive in a laboratory. I thought he was a sort of primitive savage, but he was something absolutely modern and up-to-date that only this ghastly age could produce. A tiny bit of a man pretending he was whole.

I believe I saw a snippet of Rex Mottram in a recent interview by the, er, unparalleled Fr. Thomas Rosica. Rosica explains in Zenit (I would link it, but mysteriously since Zenit pulled the paper trail):

"Pope Francis breaks Catholic traditions whenever he wants, because he is 'free from disordered attachments.' Our Church has indeed entered a new phase: with the advent of this first Jesuit pope, it is openly ruled by an individual rather than by the authority of Scripture alone or even its own dictates of tradition plus Scripture. Pope Francis has brought to the Petrine office a Jesuit intellectualism."

What kind of a man believes as such? That the pope is so free from disordered attachments as to break Catholic traditions... Perhaps Pope Francis can use such powers to call upon new spiritual rain to nurture the pure faithful? While us common sinners, attached disorderly to such dictates of tradition plus Scripture, remain arid.

Or perhaps the writer of such dribble is, rather, a "tiny bit of a man pretending he was whole."

Conference Notes: The Garden, The Desk, The Village

This past weekend the Rebuilding Catholic Culture group in Saskatoon put on a mini-conference featuring well-known Catholic professor Dr. Ryan Topping, as well as local academics Dr. Celene Sidloski (organizer) and Dr. Charles Robertson.

Although Becca and I had to miss the Friday talk by Ryan Topping, which we heard was excellent ("Oh man, his talk yesterday was like... um... I can't even begin to describe how it was... he talked about jabberwockies and... it was so good..."), we were very fortunate to leave the kids at home with their visiting Ontario grandparents on Saturday morning and make the early morning trek to Saskatoon for the main day event.

And so, arriving at the event we immediately noticed a lady and several kids who looked familiar. "What in the world... no way..."

We were brought back to visions of this:

That was at the Whistlers' park while camping by Jasper. Our last night at the park a couple of families showed up. Becca and I immediately decided they must be Catholic. They were dressed rather classily (a little too much for camping?... or maybe they had just been at an event...). The ladies in skirts. The boys had comfortable collared shirts. The kids were playing at the park. I called to my oldest boy Joseph, and immediately one of the other boys perked up as if I was calling him. There were other names... Catherine... I think John Paul... you get the idea. And scapulars hanging around necks. They seemed very happy and full of life. Becca and I commented about them later that night:

"Ohhhhh they were Catholic! Big time! Did you see the scapulars! And they sure gushed over their little sister! Just like we do with Emilie."

"I wanted to introduce myself... but they were talking with others!"

"I guess we'll never have Catholic friends... poor us. God's just quoting the Ten Commandments (movie): 'Did you think I showed you them as a sign of what you will get? No, I showed you them to let you know what you'll be missing...'"

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the conference! So we walked in and, of course, there was the family we saw in Jasper. Yep. That was the Topping family. They were visiting another family that night in Jasper. I was kicking myself. I'm a bad Catholic. While I've read much of what Topping writes, including books and blog posts, I've only ever seen tiny pictures of him. In other words, I didn't recognize him in Jasper. Blah.

So we made sure to introduce ourselves to him and his wife. "Hi Dr. Topping! Pleased to finally meet you! You know, we've been following you around all summer!" We told them the story, of which they laughed in a creeped out sort of way. Interestingly, after many boys (six I think), the Toppings finally had a little girl (Catherine). The boys apparently were initially unsure of how to handle a girl. "Mom!... what if she wants to wear a bikini when she's older?! What'll we do?!" Clearly they love having their little baby sister.

- - -

Now for the talks. I will give points that I gleaned from each talk.

The first was by Dr. Topping on homeschooling as a means to restore Catholic Culture.

- To renew culture you must fortify the family. Hence socialism/Marxism loves to split up and control families. For Marx the family was the original cell of slavery. For instance, that women would have babies makes them unequal to men. They then must leave jobs (productivity) to raise the babies. Marx would approve of universal daycare as a means to fight this inequality.

- Homeschooling is a chief work of one's marriage. However, families are not to be isolated islands. Islands are meant to be populated. In other words, having large families and homeschooling them will attract others. I couldn't help but think of how we first saw the Toppings in Jasper. There was something different about them. Something attractive, in a transcendental way as if the goodness of God was present. I see this in other large families as well. Openness to life by its very nature produces an openness and attractiveness to others.

- Topping gave a longish definition from Gaudium et Spes on culture (par. 53) but then said it could be easily shortened to: "Catholic culture is a community which makes it easy to be good." Culture is to be everything whereby man improves himself. In other words, culture must always point to our eternal end. This can be seen in the ends of homeschooling versus what end a public Catholic school might have. Topping did not say that homeschooling is always better (though statistically, it blows any other schooling out of the water), but the end of homeschooling usually keeps the eternal in mind.

- A comparison was made between the four marks of the Church and, in a sense, the four marks of the family. Families are One by the sacrament of Marriage. They are Holy, that is set apart, in that families do things others can't, such as have babies. A family can be an island of holiness within a corrupted world. Holiness is the key though. A family cannot be Catholic (universal) and Apostolic without first being holy. One can't give what one doesn't have.

- The talk was excellent. Topping provided many startling statistics to back up his points. There's a reason why he is so highly regarded in the world of Catholic education.

- - -

The next talk was by Dr. Celene Sidloski on imagination and literature. Well now, this lady is brilliant, engaging, humble, and a treat to listen to.

- Imagination is one of our most potent powers, and forms images of what is not present, what will come, or simply creates images.

- The root of imagination is the Latin imago, or imitare - to imitate. In other words, imagination is to be rooted in something (the Divine).

- To the world there is no downfall to imagination because there is no moral context (no God). It is an iconoclasm of the past. The post-modern world says to not build imagination on what has been. Hence most literature university students, when writing stories, write terrible fantasy stories. The students have no basis for writing (not to mention terrible grammar - Sidloski pointed out). Only to create drab worlds with no morality. She even sang a bit from John Lennon's "Imagine". This song leaves us with only sky, just living for today, in some sort of brotherhood of man. Marx would be proud. What a drab existence. How ironic that the world's unbridled imagination is so deficient.

- Plato - images are intermediary. They are only put to use, for better or for worse. Think of the allegory of the cave.

- Saint Thomas Aquinas - All virtues require prudence. But prudence requires memoria, that is, memory that is true to being. Memory must be true before we can have prudence. We must discipline our memory. Sidloski did a great job of illustrating how a person can have a distorted sense of the past. So many people have a sense of injustice about that past. That, say, their childhood was terrible. This is often not the case (just ask siblings, she said). An undisciplined memory makes people live in the past.

- She spoke on how four o'clock in the afternoon, in May, with the smell of bread, makes her overcome with happy memories. It triggers memories of her getting off the bus as a child and having her mom's fresh buns. So often we try to recreate memories. This is wrong. Instead we must recognize the transcendence of the memory. That the goodness we remember was the good Lord present. Don't trust the memory. It is the transcendence we must instead long for. Ultimately though we are created in the image of God (immaterial), we cannot imagine heaven. Our Christian imagination must draw us upwards. And here, then, is the crucial point: Imagination must reveal meaning, not create it. The difference between Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter is startling. One reveals the transcendence. The other distorts what is real.

- Imagination is a garden which must be tended (referring to literature). You reap what you sow in a child. It cannot die, but only be maimed or distorted. So tend the garden of your child's imagination well, and they will recognize the transcendence of God.

- - -

The final talk by Dr. Charles Robertson was more of a technical, Thomistic overview of what was learned.

- Wisdom requires order according to Aristotle. And Aquinas adds that true wisdom is ultimately ordered to our eternal end.

- The modern utilitarian world considers speculative knowledge, wisdom, as worthless. Wisdom is priceless.

- Children must first be ordered in the wonder of God's creation (nature). The home must be an extension of the Holy Church.

- - -

Some final notes:

Book recommendations that I have read included Lord of the Rings, The Great Gatsby, Brideshead Revisited, The Republic, Nicomachean Ethics, Summa Theologica. Some books I need to get my hands on: Dicken's Hard Times, C.S. Lewis' The Weight of Glory and Abolition of Man, Pius XI's Divini illius Magistri, and even Michael O'Brien's Landscape of Dragons.

- Sidloski explained how Golem of the Hobbit/LOTR is a word used in Jewish languages referring to matter without form. Thus since Golem becomes a creature separated from what he is supposed to be, he is void of goodness.

- Overall the mini-conference was excellent and reinvigorating. We cannot wait to have more like this!