Well, its Sunday March 9, 2008. Once again, more time has passed than I have been aware of. The last date that I remember remembering was February 26 – my brother’s birthday, the day that I got to see George Clinton and Parliament/Funkadellic – and the first day after my last night in Richmond.
It amazes me how quickly everything can change, I don’t know why. Its not like this is the first time that all has been tossed up in the air and landed all topsy-turby here in my life. St. Theresa of Avila, the great Spanish Mystic and Carmelite reformer, says that “God alone remains the same”; but no matter how well my intellect grasps such concepts, my nature still finds a way to be baffled that once again all of my plans have fallen back into the potency of matter [yes, I realize that that is not the 100% accurate usage of the term “Potency of Matter” – I officially calme artistic license on that one].
Oh bother, St. Louis Marie De Montford says that we must always resign our self to Gods will in all things – so much so that even if everything we do falls to ruin we must not feel anxious or angry, as it is God’s will. Detachment, I think that’s what’s necessary – detachment from your own will. . . from self.
So really, those things in mind, I clearly have no idea why I am waisting time being baffled that in a rather abrupt matter I have just packed up and relocated five years of living. Apparently, things like these are too be expected when you strive to be a saint.
In other News, I attempted to go to the local parish church, Our Lady of Mount Carmel, for Mass today. Didn’t really work out. I realized today that I am going to have to fight for my faith out here. In Richmond it far to easy to take the Mass for granted – it was right across the street every day. I know I took the sacraments for granted, the last couple of years, but now – I have a feeling – I am going to start to understand that I took the sacraments for granted.
Normally, when I am visiting in Elmsford, I attend the Latin Mass at Immaculate Conception church in Sleepy Hollow. Its really quite a lovely mass, and from what I have seen it is relatively well attended for the area. Its only about 15 minutes away from the place where I stay when I am in town – and I will admit that it is quite convenient that Mass starts at 3. But this week – this week, my car is unsafe to drive. So instead of coping out on Mass all together, and going to a St. Patrick's Day parade with some friends, I decided that I would check out the 11:30 Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel right up the street from where I stay.
I’ve been inside of our Lady of Mount Carmel a few times – twice for funerals, which I didn’t really attend – I was afraid that I would become aware of something displeasing to our Lord in the Mass and have to walk out, which would look incredibly disrespectful to the dearly departed. In the case of both funerals I did my best to sneak in at the last moment undetected.
I got to the church this morning around 11:15 to say some prayers before the Mass started. While I tried to make my morning offering, the faithful began to assemble, and greet each other in the middle of the church, while the king of Heaven reposed off to the side, in a quite corner to be forgotten. Its true, it breaks my heart to think of our Lord so over looked, but its not the first time I have seen our Lord forgotten. As it got closer to the time for the Holy Sacrifice, I noticed people setting up music and guitar stands. I assessed the situation for a few moments and realized I couldn’t stay for Mass.
I don’t do very well at the English Mass. I’d even go so far as to say that I do badly at English Masses – so badly, that it may even boarder on fault on my part. I get angry – too angry. The thing about it is that I become out raged at the offences being done to our Lord by others and in the church – but I do not get nearly as outraged at myself for the many times that I have offended our Lord. If I was a saint, I would be so troubled by my sins that I would not have time to succumb to temptations to be troubled by other’s. Alas, just another thing that I can understand but have yet to obtain.
My blood boils at irreverent English Masses, actually that’s how I know that there’s Irish somewhere in my blood line. I normally do not get fired up and angry over anything, but disrespect for God makes me go blind with anger, It takes a lot to restrain myself from doing something quite un-virtuous. A few years ago I decided that it was an occasion of sin for me to attend any new mass that will make me that angry. I hope that’s not a cop out, but at this point I feel as though I have enough information to back up my decision, and as I constantly try to put my trust in the Sacred Heart, all I can do is pray that I don’t do anything stupid, and that when I inevitably do do something stupid, that I’ll get the grace to get back to where our Lord and Lady want me.
So as I walked away from Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Elmsofrd New York before the Mass even started, I began to realize some of the things that this new life out side of Richmond may entail – the fighting has just begun.
It amazes me how quickly everything can change, I don’t know why. Its not like this is the first time that all has been tossed up in the air and landed all topsy-turby here in my life. St. Theresa of Avila, the great Spanish Mystic and Carmelite reformer, says that “God alone remains the same”; but no matter how well my intellect grasps such concepts, my nature still finds a way to be baffled that once again all of my plans have fallen back into the potency of matter [yes, I realize that that is not the 100% accurate usage of the term “Potency of Matter” – I officially calme artistic license on that one].
Oh bother, St. Louis Marie De Montford says that we must always resign our self to Gods will in all things – so much so that even if everything we do falls to ruin we must not feel anxious or angry, as it is God’s will. Detachment, I think that’s what’s necessary – detachment from your own will. . . from self.
So really, those things in mind, I clearly have no idea why I am waisting time being baffled that in a rather abrupt matter I have just packed up and relocated five years of living. Apparently, things like these are too be expected when you strive to be a saint.
In other News, I attempted to go to the local parish church, Our Lady of Mount Carmel, for Mass today. Didn’t really work out. I realized today that I am going to have to fight for my faith out here. In Richmond it far to easy to take the Mass for granted – it was right across the street every day. I know I took the sacraments for granted, the last couple of years, but now – I have a feeling – I am going to start to understand that I took the sacraments for granted.
Normally, when I am visiting in Elmsford, I attend the Latin Mass at Immaculate Conception church in Sleepy Hollow. Its really quite a lovely mass, and from what I have seen it is relatively well attended for the area. Its only about 15 minutes away from the place where I stay when I am in town – and I will admit that it is quite convenient that Mass starts at 3. But this week – this week, my car is unsafe to drive. So instead of coping out on Mass all together, and going to a St. Patrick's Day parade with some friends, I decided that I would check out the 11:30 Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel right up the street from where I stay.
I’ve been inside of our Lady of Mount Carmel a few times – twice for funerals, which I didn’t really attend – I was afraid that I would become aware of something displeasing to our Lord in the Mass and have to walk out, which would look incredibly disrespectful to the dearly departed. In the case of both funerals I did my best to sneak in at the last moment undetected.
I got to the church this morning around 11:15 to say some prayers before the Mass started. While I tried to make my morning offering, the faithful began to assemble, and greet each other in the middle of the church, while the king of Heaven reposed off to the side, in a quite corner to be forgotten. Its true, it breaks my heart to think of our Lord so over looked, but its not the first time I have seen our Lord forgotten. As it got closer to the time for the Holy Sacrifice, I noticed people setting up music and guitar stands. I assessed the situation for a few moments and realized I couldn’t stay for Mass.
I don’t do very well at the English Mass. I’d even go so far as to say that I do badly at English Masses – so badly, that it may even boarder on fault on my part. I get angry – too angry. The thing about it is that I become out raged at the offences being done to our Lord by others and in the church – but I do not get nearly as outraged at myself for the many times that I have offended our Lord. If I was a saint, I would be so troubled by my sins that I would not have time to succumb to temptations to be troubled by other’s. Alas, just another thing that I can understand but have yet to obtain.
My blood boils at irreverent English Masses, actually that’s how I know that there’s Irish somewhere in my blood line. I normally do not get fired up and angry over anything, but disrespect for God makes me go blind with anger, It takes a lot to restrain myself from doing something quite un-virtuous. A few years ago I decided that it was an occasion of sin for me to attend any new mass that will make me that angry. I hope that’s not a cop out, but at this point I feel as though I have enough information to back up my decision, and as I constantly try to put my trust in the Sacred Heart, all I can do is pray that I don’t do anything stupid, and that when I inevitably do do something stupid, that I’ll get the grace to get back to where our Lord and Lady want me.
So as I walked away from Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Elmsofrd New York before the Mass even started, I began to realize some of the things that this new life out side of Richmond may entail – the fighting has just begun.
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