Michael the Defender; Satan the Accuser

Today's Feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael (the only three angels given personal names in the Bible) brings the optional first reading from Revelation 12: the story of the fall of the angels, led by "huge dragon, the ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world."

It doesn't take much to imagine this mortal enemy of ours "prowling through the world, seeking the ruin of souls" in particular through ill-conceived media productions that continue to mislead, deceive and entrap the unwary or the careless. But there is another way that the enemy entraps us, and it is very, very clever.

Satan gets us to do his own work. He, "the accuser of the brethren," foments judgment, blame, accusation. This ploy works especially well with people who are concerned about doing good. It makes their own lives the measure of righteousness, so that whatever seems to diverge from that norm comes under suspicion. 

That "hermeneutic of suspicion" produces a trail of unlovely thoughts and resentful feelings. It may express itself in cool and cutting commentary or in sincere but ill-begotten fraternal correction. It doesn't matter where the truth lies: for Satan, what counts is keeping his victims looking outward, accusing one another. If this is done by means of social media with its capacity for exponential diffusion, all the better.

I assume that today many people will encounter the traditional Prayer to St Michael ("defend us in battle!"). Here's a prayer you may not have encountered before, to St Gabriel, the patron of audio-visual media. (It is, you may have guessed, by Blessed James Alberione, founder of the Pauline Family!):

To St. Gabriel the Archangel

         Father in heaven, I thank you for having chosen St. Gabriel from among the angels to bear the message of the Incarnation and Redemption of humanity. Mary accepted the tidings with faith, and your Son became incarnate and, by dying on the cross, redeemed all people.

         But the majority of people still have not received the message of salvation.

         St. Gabriel, patron of audio-visual media, implore Jesus Master that the Church may use these powerful means to preach the divine truth to be believed, to indicate the way to be followed.

         May these gifts of God serve to uplift and save everyone.

         May they never be employed for the spread or error or the ruin of anyone!

         May everyone openly receive the message of Jesus Christ.

         St. Gabriel, pray for us and for the apostolate of communications. Amen.

Pages from the Past: the Meaning of Life

From 2014?

Mystery: we are here to learn how to love. That’s all. All our “works” are really ordered to that end alone. Any other end is only a means to that, or it is a waste of time and energy at the least, besides being a detour or distraction.
Paul's “This will all work out for the spread of the Gospel” = “This can yield new occasions to make the love of Christ present and operative…” This also suggests that the scale by which I determine where to focus my energy is not one of mathematical efficiency, but of the sincere gift of self. It is the “complete gift of self” that makes “the surpassing love of Christ” present in the world in a new way.
This can make any eventuality meaningful.





"Pages from the Past" are randomish excerpts from my old journals. I process things in writing, so there were a lot of volumes, but here and there I found notes that were still pertinent or helpful. I got rid of the books (hello, shredder!) and typed up the things I wanted to save, whether for myself (mostly) or to share.

Rest in Peace, "Toodie"

It's pronounced "2-D" (accent on the 2), and when my godmother Toodie made little notecards, she drew a little 2-D logo on the back of each one. Toodie (her given name was Irma) was Mom's eldest sister and my godmother. Yesterday afternoon at her home in New Orleans Toodie died. At the time, all of my sisters (two of whom had been very involved in caring for Toodie over the past year) were in Boston's Logan Airport, waiting for their return flights after a long weekend visit with me. They received word of Toodie's death before their flights boarded. (Actually, one of the flights wouldn't even take off for another three hours, but that's a different story.)

As the eldest of seven children, Toodie was a take-charge sort of person. That quality served her well in her 50+ years at WDSU, the NBC affiliate in New Orleans. I remember many visits to Toodie's workplace, then located in the French Quarter's Brulatour House (now being restored and renovated as a museum). That media connection in her professional life means that Toodie has an automatic claim to Pauline prayers until Jesus comes again.

For me, Toodie was an ideal godmother. Faith came first in her life, and daily Mass came first in her morning. When we kids would spend the night at our grandparents' house (which we called "Toodie's house" since she was the most kid-engaged person who lived there), we knew that the morning would bring an early Mass followed by breakfast with fluffy orange juice, a real favorite. (Recipe: in blender, combine frozen OJ concentrate and water. Run blender until foamy. Serve.) Evenings with Toodie involved Scrabble or card games (Old Maid was a favorite). Sometimes we went through her abundant stocks of remnant fabrics and trim, making doll clothes while Toodie made dresses for us. She made my eighth grade graduation dress as well as the blue velvet dress I wore to a winter prom in high school. (The prom dress had a matching choker, that being the 70's.) She served the men of the family with her barbering skills, and no special occasion ever ended without the family being documented in a photograph taken with her trusty Canon.

Toodie traveled the world, even bringing a niece or two along. She stayed in correspondence for years with the people she met in places like Paris, Rome, London, Munich. Sometimes our visits to Toodie's house found us pulling shoe boxes out of the antique armoire in her room, each box filled with souvenirs that we could beg for.

I didn't manage to go to any exotic destinations with her, but a month before I entered the convent, Toodie and her best friend ("Dimpsy") led me, my cousin Lynn and my sister Jane on a trip to the Smoky Mountains. We bought my convent trousseau linens in the factory stores of North Carolina's mills and prayed the rosary each day in the car. (See what I meant about her being a real godmother?)

This was taken in 1952, but
I remember that coat. It's
probably still in the closet.

Hurricane Katrina brought many material losses to Toodie's neighborhood (near Tulane University), but it also brought a big surprise. In my grandfather's soaked ground floor workshop, Toodie found a box of papers: her father's memoirs. Long since retired, she marshaled her secretarial experience in a labor of love and filial devotion, carefully typing and editing the papers and having them published in book form.

She remained active and on the run until last year when she (somewhat reluctantly) surrendered her car keys at age 95. "I knew this day would come," she said, "I just didn't think it would be so soon." Her loss of independence was magnified just two months later, when in October a broken hip led to her (first?) hospitalization. The ten months since that were a long Purgatory for a woman who had never had a major illness. That Purgatory ended yesterday. The convent Mass was offered for her (and the father one a novice) this morning, hopefully ending any other Purgatory she may have needed.

+ + + 

I think Toodie was in her eighties when Mom expressed concern about Jane's not having yet married (Hurricane Katrina later took care of that). Mom may have said something along the lines of "she might end up like Toodie." Which Toodie definitely heard. She looked up indignantly. "I've had a wonderful life!"

Rest in peace, dear Toodie!

Pages from the Past: Ask and You Will Receive

“Ask and you shall receive” is not a conditional phrase: It is a promise. 
Jesus doesn’t say we will get what we asked for, but what we will receive is what promote our full joy (and ultimately Heaven: to be God—pure joy—by participation, which we were made for).
“Ask and you will receive,” so be open to it.



"Pages from the Past" are randomish excerpts from my old journals. I process things in writing, so there were a lot of volumes, but here and there I found notes that were still pertinent or helpful. I got rid of the books (hello, shredder!) and typed up the things I wanted to save, whether for myself (mostly) or to share.