You would think I would have learned by now


Laudetur Iesus Christus!
Nunc et in aeternum! Amen.

Sunday of the Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Before I get into what one would have thought I would have learned by now, let me vent for a moment.

For all you practical Catholics, this Sunday (today) has one of those “controversial” readings at Mass.  It’s so “controversial” *rolls eyes* that the bishops took it upon themselves to give a shortened version of the reading in case some pastor does not want to seem insensitive or backwards.

Of course, you know I am talking about Saint Paul’s “Wives be subordinate to your husbands” spiel in his Letter to the Ephesians.

Here’s the “Long form” (aka the “not-so-PC” form):

Brothers and sisters:
Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ.
Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord. [Oh noes! Here is the chauvinistic Church rearing *her* ugly head again.]
For the husband is head of his wife [How insensitive and backwards!!!] [The sad thing is that some people usually stop listening here when all the beauty flows from hence.]
just as Christ is head of the church,
he himself the savior of the body.
As the church is subordinate to Christ,
so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything. [“Subordinate” does not mean the “slave of,” people.  Quit thinking with the mind of the world.  The world tends to get it wrong.  Case in point.]
Husbands, love your wives,
even as Christ loved the church
and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, [Sacrificial love for the other.  Positively archaic and oppressive.]
cleansing her by the bath of water with the word,
that he might present to himself the church in splendor,
without spot or wrinkle or any such thing,
that she might be holy and without blemish. [All man/God wants to do is put down womyn.  That’s why h/He’s willing to give h/Himself over for her growth in grace and perfection.  Makes total sense. *facepalm*]
So also husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.
He who loves his wife loves himself.
For no one hates his own flesh
but rather nourishes and cherishes it,
even as Christ does the church,
because we are members of his body.
For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother
and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.
This is a great mystery,
but I speak in reference to Christ and the church.
(Ephesians 15:21-32)

This is the “sanitized” or “short form” of the reading:

Brothers and sisters:
Live in love, as Christ loved us.
Husbands, love your wives,
even as Christ loved the church
and handed himself over for her to sanctify her,
cleansing her by the bath of water with the word,
that he might present to himself the church in splendor,
without spot or wrinkle or any such thing,
that she might be holy and without blemish.
So also husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.
He who loves his wife loves himself.
For no one hates his own flesh
but rather nourishes and cherishes it,
even as Christ does the church,
because we are members of his body.
For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother
and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.
This is a great mystery,
but I speak in reference to Christ and the church.
(Ephesians 5:2a, 25-32)

Seriously, people? Are we that sensitive? Are we that dense that we cannot see the beautiful imagery here without getting caught up the the verbage/semantics which would make a feminist choke on her hormonal birth control pill (because nothing is more liberating than modifying negatively how your body naturally works).

Sitting at Mass this morning I looked at the readings for the day and thought, “Oh geez, it’s that week again. *rolls eyes* (I do that a lot)  I can only guess which reading will be used.”

Mind you, my pastor is usually one to do the long forms of the readings because he’s boss like that (canonically and figuratively).  So when the short form is used, there’s a reason.  He doesn’t just change it up willy-nilly.  He tends to “say the black, do the red.”

I hate it when I am right.  The lector read the short form.  I had to roll my eyes to myself.  If I were reading, I would have just done the long form but I am a rebel like that.

Since when has Truth been concerned about political-correctness?  Please.  Tell me when.  Truth is Truth is Truth no matter when it is proclaimed, where it is proclaimed, or how it is proclaimed.  When you start to tweak it to make it more “palatable,” it seems to me like you are really doing not just yourself and the Truth a disservice but also a disservice to those to whom the Truth is being proclaimed.

Christ never said that standing up for the Truth would be easy or openly accepted by all.  Heck, this is where one could pull the “I came to save the many.” schtick if it so  pleased you.  Some are going to reject the Truth.  Some are not going to be able to stomach it.  We may as well tell it like it is and show people the whole Truth without all the watering-down and unnecessary modifications.  It’s like adding sugar to an already perfect Shirley Temple (you can never have too many maraschino cherries.  Kinda like you can never have too much Latin in the Liturgy.); you only end up messing it up and leaving a bad taste in people’s mouths and giving them a sugar coma from your saccharine banter.

I mean, even the Lord Himself says it in today’s Gospel.

Many of Jesus’ disciples who were listening said,
“This saying is hard; who can accept it?”
Since Jesus knew that his disciples were murmuring about this,
he said to them, “Does this shock you? [MOTO, Lord, MOTO. (Master of the Obvious.)]
What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending
to where he was before?
It is the spirit that gives life,
while the flesh is of no avail.
The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life.
But there are some of you who do not believe.
Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe
and the one who would betray him. [Being omniscient has its perks.]
And he said,
“For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me
unless it is granted him by my Father.”

As a result of this,
many of his disciples returned to their former way of life
and no longer accompanied him.
Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
We have come to believe
and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.” [Amen!]
(Saint John 6:60-69)

See, right from the mouth of the Lord Himself!

In other news, the priest had a delightful homily that touched on descending Christology (God became Man.  Divinity humbled Himself and became man.) that brought back memories of my four hour long Christology classes in college.  “Ms. Accardo, I do hope you have the Summa written on the inside of your eyelids.”  In my defense, I did pretty well in that class and also Christology went from 6:30pm-10:30pm and it was on a day when I already had three or four classes.  I loved that class.  It got most of the Christological heretic out of me.  “Ms. Accardo, I say you are a heretic!  Tell me why and how you can save yourself from damnation by means of amending your heterodoxy” or something like that.  No pressure.

So yeah, that got on my nerves.

*gets off soapbox*

So what would you think I would have learned?

Never have a coffee drink after eight o’clock in the evening.  You will have a helluva time trying to fall asleep.

In my defense, I was driving back to Detroit from Okemos (about an hour or so drive) and I wanted to be awake … not that I was falling asleep.  If I were, I would not have driven.

’twas the first time I drove on the highway in a while.  And the first time I have driven on the freeway at night.

Save for a few issues that can be amended with further practice, I did well.  My mother told me I did pretty well and made good time.

I now know why my sister HATES driving at night.

Those bloody bright headlights that singe one’s retinas are like Lucifer’s glare.  Those suckers reflecting off my rearview mirrors did a number on my eyes because they were constantly adjusting and hurting from the rapid changes in light environment.

I just need to work on my confidence and keep practicing.

Every time things got kinda fishy (people are crazy), I would pray mentally, “Saint Michael and all my patrons, help me.” and they would help me to maneuver through the confusion.

Then when I started to get a bit “bleh,” I would hear this in my head.  Seriously. It happens often.  Yes, I take my meds.  This must be God’s way of appealing to me on my level of … whatever I am.

My sister and I sing it every time it comes up on her iPod while we’re driving somewhere (usually to Patridge Creek to go shopping at a couple of our favorite stores. Especially when Victoria’s Secret sends me coupons for free stuff and other girly things. I love my girly stuff.) Hard to believe I used to hate that movie. Now I have the soundtrack on my iPod.

While I am on this minor “The Sound of Music” thing, here’s a song the sisters and my co-workers at the parish would sing when I would be up to no good.

“How do you solve a problem like Ms. Allie?” was what the co-workers would sing. “How do you solve a problem like Allison?” was what the sisters would sing. I loved it. Most of the time, it was done with joking love.  Yep.  That was me, scampering to chapel a few minutes before common prayer but always early for supper.  Only I could be impish while holding a toothbrush and bottles of Silvo and Murphy Oil Soap.  lolz.

When I start classes in January, Imma try my best to stick with day/early evening classes and take night classes only when necessary.  I will show up at the Seminary at 8am and stay until 8pm if I have to to keep from being out too late.  Besides, one of my priest-friends already told me some good places to catch a good nap.  Reminded me of my days taking power naps sitting up in front of Aloysius I (I am on Aloysius II), earbuds playing Mozart or some Gregorian chant, in between classes since I didn’t feel like making the quarter mile trek back to the convent to take a nap in my nice warm bed and with my teddy bear named … Aloysius (after the teddy bear in Brideshead Revisited).  College is nothing but a glorified (and exponentially more expensive) Kindergarten.

The thing about the whole driving schtick today that caught me off guard was the fact that it was quite random.  My father stated as we were driving up to Okemos, “Allie, you’re driving home.”  He doesn’t usually tell me.  I usually have to say I want to drive.

Here’s where I want to pick up my Infant of Prague and smother His divinely cute self with kisses of gratitude.  I did when I finished Compline when I got home.  I can’t wear the paint off of Him.  Though I think that would be like wearing down the feet of a crucifix from constant kissing and touching (my crucifix around my neck has smooth feet now from all the “Help me, Lord!” prayers I have expressed through kisses and touches.).  Kinda like how the feet of that statue of Saint Peter at  his basilica in Rome are worn down from centuries of pilgrims touching them.

Saint Peter's foot

See how though both of his feet appear worn, the one on the left is totally smooth.
Imagine the prayers “attached” to all that devout wear.

Before I received Communion today, after I named all the people for whom I usually offer my Communions (I have a few people and intentions … I tell Him a lot because I know He can handle anything I give Him), I asked Him, “Lord, give me more opportunities to practice driving so I can take and pass my test in time for grad school and TLM awesomeness!”


Far be it from me to say that the Lord does not answer every prayer.  And He does.  He might not do it the way we want or in the time frame we think is ideal but He does.

I tell you, since I have grown in my devotion to the Infant of Prague, anything I have asked Him has been answered or is in the process of being answered.  Seriously.  Hence the header of the blog being changed to an image of the original Infant which is enshrined at the Church of Our Lady of Victory in Prague.  I did the same to my Facebook page.

There was one prayer that He answered recently that made me so happy that I picked him up and hugged Him.  There was another time when things got rough because of something happening (I’ll spare you the details) that I held Him in my arms and rocked Him gently as if He were not a plaster statue but really a small child.

Some find that kind of stuff saccharine pious.  In fact, if I was a bit more cynical than I am, I probably would think that but Deo gratias that I am not.  While I have a tendency to “live in my head” a lot and be very logical and systematic (to a fault), I try to maintain a bit of a childlike-ness when it comes to faith.  Hence all the affectionate treatment I show my Infant statue and my other “holy reminders” as Mother Angelica is apt to call them.

Every time I hold my dear Infant, I don’t want to let Him go.  When I hold Him with my eyes closed and praying, I feel a warmth come over me that is so profound that it imbues me completely.  I swear I am not crazy.  I am just calling it as I experience it.

Besides the whole “The first chance I get after I get my license, Imma go to TLM and offer it in thanksgiving for prayers answered and graces given” thing, I think Imma make my Infant a new vestment.  I think I have enough material for a rose vestment (Goodwill/SVdP thrift stores are a great place to find material … silky nighties for five bucks or less!) for Him.  My classmate gave me the pattern she used for the green vestment she made for my birthday because she knew I didn’t have a green vestment.  Every time I vest Him with it, I pray for her.  She’s a first-year novice now.  Please pray for her perseverance.  She was novice-d a couple weeks ago and she will do smashingly in the convent with God’s grace.  She also looks beautiful in her habit with her novice veil.  God willing, it will turn black in two years at her first profession.

I also have some pretty pearls and such I can used to decorate it and make it fancy and such.  I have to find some lace trim so that I can have some sense of cohesiveness to His vestment collection.

After the rose vestment, I want to make Him a gold one and a black one but that will come later.  I really want to make Him a rose vestment so He will have one to wear for Gaudete Sunday (Third Sunday of Advent)and Laetare Sunday (Fourth Sunday of Lent).

All right.  My end has been accomplished.  My eyes are getting heavy.  Besides reading a meaty Theology book or my Code of Canon Law, blogging can help me fall asleep.  So yeah, if there are some messed up sentences, I will try to fix them tomorrow when I get back from Mass in the morning.

Until next time, have a nice night!



About Ms. Allie

I am a Catholic young woman who works as a Theology teacher at a Catholic high school in the Archdiocese of the Detroit. In Spring of 2015, I graduated with an MA in Theology with a concentration in Systematic Theology. My MA thesis was titled: "Mary as Woman of the Eucharist in the Theology of Pope Saint John Paul II." I also hold a BA in Theology (with a dabbling in Philosophy) and is a member of Theta Alpha Kappa (θΑΚ), the National Theology/Religious Studies Honor Society. Prayers are appreciated.
This entry was posted in Church Lady Stuff, Contemplations, Devotion to the Angels, Guardian Angels, Liturgy and Prayer, Musings, Rant with a purpose, Saint Michael, Saints, The Divine Child/Infant of Prague, Trad Catholicism and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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