This is a rare time for me to attend Saturday Mass.
This Mass was conducted by a retired priest. I wasn’t able to catch his name but I gathered that he was familiar to long-time Staug parishioners. He did a good job of it I thought, quoting Pope Benedict and Mother Teresa. We don’t worship a thing, said the priest, but a person: Jesus Christ.
I was driven here by shuttle car. The KK Sportage is being serviced.
The court always has a lineup at the TH’s.
A table of old local yokels is discussing things.
People of all races can be seen.
I read a couple of poems. Now, I’m reading Lord of the World on the second hand IPad I bought. LotW was written by Robert Hugh Benson. I wonder if any of the literary RC’s I know have read it.
As we were dropped off, we saw that there had been a collision at the intersection on 18th street where there is the Canadian Tire, the BSM parking lot, and the Brandon Cemetery. Three cars were involved in the accident including a taxi. Curiosity caused us to walk toward the intersection to get a better looky-Lou-look. We passed a man and I had sensed he had the seen the accident. Turned out, he was in the taxi. I immediately told him that I hoped he hadn’t been hurt. Someone had run a red light…
Earlier today, I talked to someone living near Lisbon. They have cole slaw in Europe I determined.
A student asked for the translation of tubería. In context, I knew he meant pipes.
Humanity longs to free itself from poverty, from toil, from war — from everything which few escape without degrading themselves.
Below is my view from the pew.
I find I prefer going to weekday masses. Too many distractions at the Sunday masses like people arriving late. This Mass, at least 10 parties arrived late.
Be that as it may, it forces me to be tolerant and understanding and merciful.
In today’s homily, Father John mentioned the latest Spider-Man movie and driving a Tesla.
Someone thanked me for my kneeling to accept communion.
I’m sitting closer to the front this time.
I posted this before the Mass has started. They are still filing in, and will be, for the next twenty minutes.
Tired with a wandering mind, I attended the Sunday evening Mass at Saint Augustine’s. Receiving the Eucharist made it very worthwhile.
It was also very providential (I pray I am using this word correctly) that I attended the last Mass presided by Father Oliver at Saint Augustine. He will still be in the SW MB area but my chances of seeing him will be considerably reduced. When he mentioned it was his last Mass at Staug, I had to take a selfie with him afterwards.
The gentleman in the center is Patrick. A gentleman I with whom I have made acquaintance at Staug.
My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy.
Lord Jesus hanging on the Cross, I raise sorrowful and shameful eyes to you. You have granted me untold blessings and I have repaid you by contributing to your Passion and death. My hands took part in your scourging, my voice was among those who denied you and called for your death, my thoughts brought about your crowning with thorns, my sins drove the nails into your hands and feet, the lance into your side.
Dear Lord, forgive me for all these sins. You are great, glorious, and infinitely good; I am insignificant, selfish, and hopelessly sinful. But I am sorry for all my sins, and by the Blood shed in your Passion, I beg for forgiveness and for a share in your love and grace.
If you lose the supernatural meaning of your life, your charity will be philanthropy; your purity, decency; your mortification, stupidity; your discipline, a whip; and all your works, fruitless.
I just had a class with a man from Ávila Spain, famous on account of its Saint Teresa.
Father John who presided over the Mass.
That Tony came to the Mass shows that the Lord works in mysterious ways. It was a strange set of circumstances, which I can’t and won’t get into that compelled Tony to come.
And then an even more miraculous thing happened. After Mass, Father John saw Tony, knew Tony was my son, and recalled having seen him over ten months ago. Tony was astounded that Father John remembered him, as was I.
Yesterday, I was outside for the morning and it was cold.
I purchased a World Cup package from TSN.
I had a student cancel a class this morning. So, I have an extra hour. I am using it to journalize. I will use it to read Trollope and Guardini and NGD and Escriva:
Bitterness has sharpened your tongue. Be quiet!
Leaving the church, I ran into a student who was in an EAL class I was sub-teaching. I fist pumped the young gentleman and in turn his father.
I saw this in the Church Bulletin:
Can you see it? I have an Intention Mass this upcoming Friday.
Today’s Mass celebrated Pentecost. Just before Mass started, a lady asked Mass attendees to say something in a different language. I ascertained her request, however, only after it was done. Sometimes, I can’t hear what people are saying from the pews.
