Calm?

I have faults too numerous even to reckon.

That said, I generally have it in me to maintain a placid disposition.

Boring, pedantic, obtuse, insensitive…Yes, all these and more. But people count on me to remain calm. I do not agitate easily. I am a steady man. Not perturbed. Cool, calm, collected.

EXCEPT WHEN THE ORIOLES AND THE NATS BOTH GO TO GAME FIVE ON THE SAME DAY!!!

And the whole MARC-train World Series dream hangs in the balance of a single October evening.

Come on, Fates! O, wheel-spinning Fortuna, can you be serious? How in the world is anyone supposed to concentrate today?

Wait a Minute: Brewers Edition

When former-Washington National Nyjer Morgan hit the “walk-off” game-winner on Friday night, sending the Milwaukee Brewers to what they now call the NLCS, a sleeping dog awoke in my mind…

N.L.C.S.…I may not know the science of rockets, but I wholeheartedly believe that this acronym refers to what we used to call the National League Pennant series.

Now, in order for the Milwaukee Brewers to square-off against the venerable St. Louis Cardinals for the National League pennant–all joking aside–it would seem to be necessary for the Brewers actually to belong to the National League.

BUT, my dear friends, the Milwaukee Brewers played the Cardinals in the 1982 World Series. If you are from another country, allow me to explain: The World Series pits the winners of the respective pennants–one from the American Leauge, one from the National League–against each other in a seven-game series. In 1982, by a fluke, the New York Yankees did not appear in the World Series.

So I found myself utterly confused. What in the world is going on here?

Guess what? The Milwaukee Brewers transferred to the National League some fourteen years ago!

I did not know that you could, so to speak, do that. But, apparently, when a) major-league baseball decides to add teams in states with lots of retirees, and b) a year passes with no World Series, owing to a strike, then circumstances ripen, and the Milwaukee Brewers acquire just such a changeling aptitude.

Gosh. Under what rock have I been living?

Keats Sonnet in Honor of Derrick Rose

The Bulls trounced the Heat this evening, filling me with such euphoria that this John Keats sonnet came to mind…

“On first looking into Chapman’s Homer”

Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne:
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific—and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise—
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

[George Chapman was a contemporary of Shakespeare’s. Chapman was the first to translate Homer’s works into English. Chapman’s iambic-pentameter Homer had been supplanted by later, more precise translations, which were the standard fare at Keats’ time. Apollo directs the divine Muses, to whom Homer appealed for aid. Darien is a province of Panama.]

Toughest Dip in the Drink

How did I make out in my Lazarus-Saturday swim up Mill Mountain and around Ro’noke? I did okay.

Generally, I oppose full-immersion baptisms. But when the good Lord does it to you over the course of a 13-mile run, I’m into it.

The Blue Ridge Marathon provides the BEST runner experience. What do they hand you at the finish line for a replenisher? Yes. —>

Once I dry off, I will tally the donations and let you know how much we raised for ProLife Across America.

..Now, bring on April and May Madness!

Tough

Here is a question:

Altars, Pagan and Christian

First of all, let me say this: To see LeBron get sat-down was…SWEET!

…At Holy Mass, after Communion, when the deacon or priest cleanses the chalice, he says this prayer quietly to himself:

Quod ore sumpsimus, Domine, pura mente capiamus: et de munera temporali fiat nobis remedium sempiternum.

The translation of this Latin sentence which appears in the current English Sacramentary is an utter mush.

But soon we will have a new English-language Missal! This is how the prayer will be translated:

What has passed our lips as food, O Lord, may we possess in purity of heart, that what has been given to us in time may be our healing for eternity.

Beautifully put. Speaking of well-written sentences: I have seen Hamlet many times. I have seen all the movies, and I have seen it on stage probably a half-dozen times.

The other night I saw the best Hamlet I have ever seen. At the Folger Shakespeare Library. (Not the Folger Shakespeare Theatre Company downtown, which is to be avoided like a noxious cesspool.)

The Hamlet at the Library was great. Seeing it restored my faith in the art of Thespis. Ophelia stole the show. The play made sense to me in a new way–as the story of ruined love. Do whatever you can to get a ticket.

…Here is a short Ascension Day homily:

Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by hands, but heaven itself, that He might now appear before God on our behalf. (Hebrews 9:24)

St. Paul traveled the world to teach the Good News. When he went to the pagan city of Athens, he observed the many shrines to the many pagan gods. This moved him to explain the difference between pagan worship and Christian worship.

Looking for a Cheerful Thought?

…If so, you have come to the wrong place.

Do we live on “in memory” after we die?

When I visit my dear father’s grave, I also visit the graves of my great-great grandparents. They are buried next to my father. Their graves are well over a century old.

They were dead before my father was even born. I never knew them. I can say without the slightest doubt that there is not a soul on earth who remembers anything about my great-great grandparents. I may be the only one who ever gives them a thought, which I do when I see their grave markers, and I pray that they will rest in peace.

Someday, a century or two from now, no one on earth will remember any of us.

A century or two after that, our graves themselves will be forgotten, their markers destroyed by some force of man or nature. All memory of us will be wiped off the face of the earth.

Shall we not, therefore, hope in Christ?

What other hope do we have?

Either we hope to live forever in Him, or we accept the inevitable darkness of utter oblivion.

I choose Christ.

Also–I root for the Caps!

Another Banner Day

Beautiful pro-life billboard–right here in my humble ‘hood! Thank you Prolife Across America! (On display at 9th and G Streets, N.E.)

…How fired-up are we for the Caps?

…Call me obtuse, but I have always found this parable difficult to understand:

No one pours new wine into old wineskins.

Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins, and it will be spilled, and the skins will be ruined. Rather, new wine must be poured into fresh wineskins.

And no one who has been drinking old wine desires new, for he says, ‘The old is good.’ (Luke 5:37-39)

The parable seems clear enough:

Christ has inaugurated the New Covenant. The New Covenant requires a complete renovation of religion. The ancient observances of the Old Covenant had to be changed. Those who were accustomed to the old way had a hard time accepting the Christian way of life, even though it is sweeter and better than Judaism.

Fair enough.

BUT:

The fact is that the taste of wine improves with time, up to the point when it reaches its peak. The ancient Palestinians used inside-out animal skins as wine bottles (until the Prohibition of Mohammed deprived them of the joy of the vine).

Skins were used for transporting wine on camel-back. The wine would ferment a second time in the skins, under the hot sun.

So, while it is true that pouring wine into old, dried-out skins would never be wise, neither would it be wise to drink wine that you had just poured into a wineskin. Better to take your journey, then drink it later.

So the “newness” interpretation doesn’t do full justice to the parable.

Today I finally found the perfect explanation. In order fully to grasp the parable, we have to understand it as applying to the Holy Mass:

The wine of Christ’s blood, drawn from the many grapes of the vineyard that He had planted, is extracted in the winepress of the cross. When men receive it with believing hearts, like capacious wineskins, it ferments within them by its own power. (St. Gaudentius of Brescia)

Prognostication Club

Look, I am not trying to gloat when I point this out:

I predicted that the Magic would beat the Cavaliers back on April 16 (scroll down if you click through)!

I am not gloating. I am simply joining ranks with my man Charles Barkley. Last week, he also predicted the dethronement of King James.

As you can see below, my fellow prognosticator took a lot of abuse. He was humble and understated. He stuck to his guns:

Pass the Twinkies, brother! We are one game away from utter vindication!

May 24

Opened on May 24

On May 24, 1883, the Brooklyn Bridge opened.

On May 24, 2003, a certain knucklehead entered the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception a deacon. He left the building a priest.

Six years. Domine, non sum dignus. But You said the word…

…Last night, LeBron got his revenge. He beat the clock.

The man IS amazing.