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𝔽𝕒π•₯𝕙𝕖𝕣 β„•π•šπ•”π•œ 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕙𝕒
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Landlocked castaway priest in the Age of Disintegration

Estoy sentado

en el suelo

de una habitaciΓ³n desocupada,

el retrato de una joven

no deja de mirarme

mientras una vela se consume

dando vida a la estancia.

Ignoro el tiempo transcurrido,

menosprecio el que vendrΓ‘.

Es fΓ‘cil sentir cerca la muerte

admirando el pΓ‘bilo doblegado

especulando de manera vaga

cuando reinarΓ‘ la noche.

(Javier SolΓ©, poema β€œEstancia en penumbra”

Del libro de poemas β€œLas hilanderas”)

#espaΓ±ol #poesia #poemas #catolico

GM. Here’s some Rudyard Kipling to start the day. Drink some #coffeechain and enjoy something from a different time.

The King and the Sea

After His Realms and States were moved

To bare their hearts to the King they loved,

Tendering themselves in homage and devotion,

The Tide Wave up the Channel spoke

To all those eager, exultant folk:β€”

β€œHear now what Man was given you by the Ocean!

β€œThere was no thought of Orb or Crown

When the single wooden chest went down

To the steering-flat, and the careless Gunroom haled him

To learn by ancient and bitter use,

How neither Favour nor Excuse,

Nor aught save his sheer self henceforth availed him.

β€œThere was no talk of birth or rank

By the slung hammock or scrubbed plank

In the steel-grated prisons where I cast him;

But niggard hours and a narrow space

For restβ€”and the naked light on his faceβ€”

While the ship’s traffic flowed, unceasing, past him.

β€œThus I schooled him to go and comeβ€”

To speak at the wordβ€”at a sign be dumb;

To stand to his task, not seeking others to aid him;

To share in honour what praise might fall

For the task accomplished, andβ€”over allβ€”

To swallow rebuke in silence. Thus I made him.

β€œI loosened every mood of the deep

On him, a child and sick for sleep,

Through the long watches that no time can measure,

When I drove him, deafened and choked and blind,

At the wave-tops cut and spun by the wind;

Lashing him, face and eyes, with my displeasure.

β€œI opened him all the guile of the seasβ€”

Their sullen, swift-sprung treacheries,

To be fought, or forestalled, or dared, or dismissed with laughter.

I showed him Worth by Folly concealed,

And the flaw in the soul that a chance revealed

(Lessons rememberedβ€”to bear fruit thereafter).

β€œI dealt him Power beneath his hand,

For trial and proof, with his first Commandβ€”

Himself alone, and no man to gainsay him.

On him the End, the Means, and the Word,

And the harsher judgment if he erred,

Andβ€”outboardβ€”Ocean waiting to betray him.

β€œWherefore, when he came to be crowned,

Strength in Duty held him bound,

So that not Power misled nor ease ensnared him

Who had spared himself no more than his seas had spared him!”

* * * *

After His Lieges, in all His Lands,

Had laid their hands between His hands,

And His ships thundered service and devotion,

The Tide Wave, ranging the Planet, spoke

On all Our foreshores as it broke:β€”

β€œKnow now what Man I gave youβ€”I, the Ocean!”

Wish I could zap this

Perhaps Jesus was not actually concerned about his followers being so impenetrably thick that they couldn’t tell the difference between a weak human being born to die, and the β€œimmortal invisible God only wise”… I would suggest that using words like β€œholy father” in analogous senses about two such radically different orders of being is so commonplace as to not require comment or defense, and certainly creates no confusion on the part of anyone older than the age of three.

I get called Jesus and God all the time … by three year olds. Everyone else just chuckles.

I also work regularly with evangelical, Bible-only Christians who want nothing to do with calling me Father. I explain to them that it’s more a reminder to me that I am called to lay down my life, as fathers must, rather than to demand blind obedience from God’s flock. My parishioners certainly don’t obey me blindly. I invite the Sola Scriptura Christians to use the title, in that sense, as an act of charity. They always decline, so there are a few terms I suggest as alternatives. In the end, if they call me Nick, I’m not worried about it, but I pray for an increase in brotherly love on the part of my fellow believers. πŸ˜‰

On the phone with the police to file a report for theft on the property. Officer ends the call with "Have a better day"

I will man, I will.

How to not binge watch a series:

Never try to tear yourself away at the END of an episode. They have you on tenterhooks. Roll with it... and then pick some B roll a third of the way through the episode. Way easier to walk away. #lifehack #plebchain #grownostr

A PIECE OF THE PUZZLE - homily for the 22nd Sunday

(Still looking for a better way to embed podcasts than Spotify. Open to suggestions.)

A PIECE OF THE PUZZLE - Homily for the 22nd Sunday

https://breez.link/p?feedURL=https%3A%2F%2Fanchor.fm%2Fs%2F72b0fc8%2Fpodcast%2Frss&episodeID=4cdfec51-3cb8-41bc-bd5e-acbb9df0bf41

#ivf #catholic #sundaysermon

I enjoyed listening to Michael Palin’s Erebus, about the polar explorations conducted by the ship of that name, and its companion ship HMS Terror. They were bomb ships created at the end of the Napoleonic era, present at the shelling of Baltimore (?) during the war of 1812. Whatever battle the Star-Spangled Banner commemorates.

They were retired from naval service not long after being launched, almost being obsolete as soon as they were built, but their reinforced hulls were ideal for plowing through sea ice. Incredibly, they did so under sail alone. HMS Erebus was discovered in the Arctic in 2016 or so and HMS Terror not long after. Their voyages all sound harrowing but particularly the last, of course. Conrad mentions them in Heart of Darkness. There are all sorts of lively characters and of course the usual preening superiority towards past attitudes and practices.

I think one of the favorable qualities of the historical books I most enjoy is that they do not allow a contemporary perspective to intervene and attempt to demonstrate β€œour” superiority to the people of the past. The author's voice is totally subsumed into the characters’. I find the interjection of authorial voice so irritating as to cause me to stop reading the second I detect it. I tried listening to Erik Larsen’s new book on the start of the civil war but made the mistake of starting with the Introduction and had to return it.

A new rule I’m considering putting into place is to never, ever, ever read introductions, and perhaps even avoid books that contain them entirely.