Join us as we explore the Corporal Works of Mercy. In these pages you will learn what the Seven Corporal Works of Mercy are, how having an open-door policy effects a family, what it’s like to be in need and overlooked, and what prison looks like from the inside. You will also find non-fiction, poetry, book and media recommendations, and puzzles, as well as our various views on war in Controversy Corner. We can’t wait to hear what you think!
The theme for the Winter 2021 issue is Corporal Works of Mercy. These are to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked, to give shelter to travelers, to visit the sick, to visit the imprisoned, and to bury the dead. We want to know – what do these ideas mean to you personally? How do you see them in your church, in your life and in the lives of others?
As we were finishing our meal and our catching-up, the restaurant manager walked by slowly with an elegant, elderly lady on his arm.
“This is my son,” the elegant lady said to us. “Don’t you think he is handsome?”
“The Oasis Within” can be read solely as a story, and it would be both diverting and useful, but the thinking reader will also consider the many questions about the meanings in one’s life and the nature of the good, the true, and the beautiful.
The darkness was what haunted Sera the most. The darkness of the witch’s castle and the horrid hissing voices of the wraiths she kept as her servants and pets. They whispered and taunted. “You’ll never see the sun again.” “No one will remember you.” “You can never go home.”
Saint John the Baptist, a man not shaken by the wind, a man not dressed in the finery of the palace, eater of locusts. Well, that last one doesn’t sound quite as impressive, but he did eat locusts as well as whatever he could find in the desert near the Jordan River. He lived the life God called him to live, and he lived it well, so he has a feast day in the Calendar of Saints….
The hell hole was vanishing. Suddenly, a black, hairy arm thrust out of the darkness and grabbed me by the vest, yanking me into the hole.
“WALTER!” Conrad cried as I fell into the darkness.
If today you find yourself in the company of Texas Rangers, no matter who you are, you know that truth and justice will prevail. But it was not always so, and that is the thesis of Doug J. Swanson’s disturbing but well-documented book, Cult of Glory: The Bold and Brutal History of the Texas Rangers.
“I want to fully partake in the experience that is being a Christian,” Nicanor 112 said.
“I thought you were already doing that. You’ve got your own Robo Church and everything.”
“I need the Lord’s Supper, Alexander.”
You still approach the Altar as a child
As you once were, and are, and will be forever
For God will have it so, will have you so –
Enchanted by His magic – a little boy
She comes back almost every morning to pray aloud and silently beneath the tree. Sometimes, I hear a few words of The Lord’s Prayer carried by the wind to my ears. This must be her sacred space.
Whenever I take my book to the front-yard oak
The squirrel stretched from the feeder to the trunk
Flees in a seed-strewn panic across the lawn
To a farther tree, free of human menace
Police chiefs are costumed as admirals these days
Or as generals, with medals and eagles and stars
Peaked caps and polished boots, more Patton than Patton
In stern command of parking-lot plywood lecterns
Life, death, rebirth. These themes are revisited every year when the flowers bloom again, filling the world with color, like a rainbow had walked through the melting snows. The image of a stone rolled away from the mouth of a cave circulates the web in honor of the Resurrection of the God-Made-Man. And it’s not just in the memes that circle around the world, it’s also in the tales that are such an important part of our libraries, and our imaginations.
The morning was fresh and cool and damp and still
I wheeled the tiller into the garden patch
Fresh gasoline, then primed the little bulb
And turned the red plastic lever just so
The Easter Bunny is hiding brightly-colored Easter Eggs for the children, a tradition brought to America from Dutch immigrants, though the now-famous bunny originally began as a fox. But what about other countries? Not everyone celebrates Easter the same way, because no two cultures are exactly the same. But that’s the fun of it.
“A man was found dead this morning, and…” the sheriff trailed off.
“We think it was a large canine,” said Julia.
“And you think I had something to do with it?” asked Walter.
“Well, there are some folks who are concerned, you being a werewolf and all,” said Sheriff Donne.
