A Street Called Parallel
When I was a girl, in small-town America, /
There was a street called Parallel, /
Where we Protestants ran alongside the /
Catholics – an historical microcosm of /
Our ancestral nations.
When I was a girl, in small-town America, /
There was a street called Parallel, /
Where we Protestants ran alongside the /
Catholics – an historical microcosm of /
Our ancestral nations.
Saint Agnes was a Roman martyr from the times of the early persecutions of the Church whose exact time period is unknown, though she may have died in 304. While her exact story is also unclear, tradition holds that Agnes professed herself to be married to Jesus and would accept no other husband.
Read MoreYes, the day we have assigned to be New Year’s Day may be arbitrary, but what it represents is not. There is a reason why new beginnings, fresh starts, and—yes—resolutions dominate our minds as each year draws to a close…
Read MoreIf there must be time capsules buried beneath /
Statues of bold men wearing uniforms /
As a remembrance of man’s noblest ideals /
Let us have one for dear ol’ Sergeant Schultz
Contrary to popular belief amongst credo-baptists, paedobaptism (infant baptism) is found in Holy Writ…
Read MoreLittle indeed is known for sure about the magi who visited the child Jesus, bringing Him gold, frankincense and myrrh. Matthew is the only Gospel writer to mention them, detailing their visit in the second chapter of his gospel. Matthew does not call them kings, but ‘magi’ or ‘wise men’.
Read More‘Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. That would be me, the sleeping creature. Everyone else was stirring. Anyway, the sound of my cell phone going to town interrupted my slumber.
Read MoreJanus faces both ways, and so do we /
A last, lingering look at the year that was /
And then a turn to the year we must meet /
Marching to it through Janus Pater’s doors
Angels of God, oh glorious host /
Protect those who need you most /
Guide and teach us ever this day /
And keep all of our temptations at bay.
During the octave of the birth of Jesus, I think it is fitting that we look at His mother, particularly today, on the eve of one of her feasts in the Catholic Church. Today, let’s simply take a look at the Gospels.
Read MoreChildhood Christmases are often the metaphorical benchmark for our present Christmases, and that won’t do. The magic of opening a package under the tree on Christmas morning is for little children; it won’t work for us and it’s not meant to.
Read MoreThat star that led us to a stable long ago /
And now bathes our souls with its silver glow
We pray that this Christmas Day
Brings you peace,
Hope,
Love for God and Man,
#FaithfulFriday
While little is known of Joseph’s life, we do know that he was a man of high moral character. He would have to be in order to be the foster father of our Lord, Jesus. The Gospels tell us…
The clip-clop of horse hooves filled the air as carriages trotted along on cobblestone streets littered with patches of slowly melting snow. Cab drivers were bundled up in layers of blankets while wisps of white clouds came out of their noses. Snow had begun falling, making everyone want to rush home to cozy fireplaces and familiar faces. Stalls lined this particular street with vendors calling out their wares.
Read MoreWe bring our gifts to Mary’s fair-born Child: /
A pen, a broom, a book, a welding rod, /
A wrench, a mop, some papers neatly filed – /
Our daily labors offered up to God /
“Alright everybody, listen up!” an old tontu announced. “We only have ten days until Christmas! Time to get things moving faster if we want our two month break! We were able to finish on time for December sixth and thirteenth. Great job everyone!”
Read MoreSt. Olympias was born to a wealthy Roman family with many ties to nobility in the 360s AD. At a young age, she married Nebridius, Prefect of Constantinople. One of the invitees was St. Gregory of Nazianzus, though he was unable to attend.
Read MoreDown the old logging road we hiked, hoping it might take us back to where we’d parked the truck. After a while of walking, I don’t know how long, a woman approached us walking down the muddy road. I would’ve thought this suspicious under different circumstances, but she enchanted me as soon as I looked into her clear blue eyes.
Read MoreA collection of poems by Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall (Rated G) A Cargo Cult Conversations are about packagesPackages considered, packages orderedPackages delivered and packages stolenPackages as the cosmic medium of exchange Conversations are about packagesPackages that give meaning to our livesPackages pinched by plundering porch piratesPackages snatched by maskers in masks What is it […]
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