|The red buds were in glorious profusion this Spring as we headed to Texas.|
Blog readers may not know that I put out a quarterly print newsletter. Well...it's usually quarterly. I combined the Spring and Summer issue this year because of coming down with COVID in March and then my husband having COVID and surgery (and another surgery on the calendar for early August). It's been a challenging few months. Toss in a few wonderful events like a trip to visit our son and his family in Texas and our big 4th of July bash and it's been a busy-busy time.
I give thanks for it -- yes, thanks for both the good and for the not-so-good. COVID was actually an unexpected answer to prayer. I won't explain, you'll have to take my word for it. As sick as I was, God brought some great blessings out of it. He definitely has a sense of humor and often answers prayers in unusual ways. So be careful what you ask for.
At any rate, the newsletter is at the printer. Sometimes I post articles from the newsletter on the blog, but often I don't. If you'd like to check out my newsletter website, the current issue will go online about two weeks after publication. The printer operates on Woodstock time, which often means two or three weeks until it's printed and mailed, but I rarely have time-sensitive information in the newsletter so I just shrug and practice patience. This year I think I got it in early enough to avoid all the printing associated with the country fair, so it shouldn't take too long. Besides, they're probably embarrassed. They took so long last time they gave me 15% discount.
So if you want to check out the newsletter, here's the link to the Les Femmes website where all the newsletters since 2005 (I think) are posted. One column, The Twilight Zone, is easy to fill with all the nutty things going on in the Church and the culture. Here's one item from the winter issue:
***The Silence of the Bishops Calls Out to Heaven! Dante’s Inferno reserved the hottest places in hell for those who, in times of moral crisis, remained silent. In legal terms, silence indicates consent. In theological terms it represents a sin of omission if those being silent have an obligation to speak. The 2020 government shutdown of religious services met almost universal silence from the American bishops who sent the flock a graphic message that Dr. Fauci, not God, is the master over life and death. At a time when preaching about faith and trust was desperately needed, the bishops indulged in handwringing and fear. Despite the fact that liquor stores and abortion businesses were open, churches closed almost everywhere. A handful of clergy offered outside Masses, but most of the faithful had no alternative but virtual Masses on TV. Think of the capacity of a cathedral like the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, one of the largest in the world. The upper church measures over 77,000 square feet. Rector Fr. Walter Rossi, at Caesar’s diktat closed the church “until further notice” on March 17, 2020. When it reopened three months later, Caesar allowed only 50 worshipers to pray in the cavernous upper church. The Archdiocese of D.C. under Wilton Gregory did nothing until mid-December when the archdiocese finally sued D.C. mayor Muriel Bowser. (Was it concern for the flock or the Christmas collection?) Even now, only 250 may “by registration” attend Mass at the shrine which every year filled the upper church with at least 10,000 for the annual Mass preceding the March for Life.
The Shrine is finally open again. This from the website: "Face coverings are optional for fully vaccinated persons while inside the Basilica." To see our shepherds joining in the holy mask ritual is truly pathetic. But then Wilton Gregory made it perfectly clear during the shutdown that he is more concerned about the sheep's bodies than their souls. He continues to demonstrate that fact by letting all know that he will never refuse Communion to an unrepentant heretic like Joe Biden who attends Holy Trinity in Georgetown, a parish we've featured in the newsletter more than once.I never thought when I started a watchdog newsletter to put the skids on some diocesan scandals (Call to Action was meeting in our parishes.) that I'd still be publishing 25 years later. I told the Blessed Mother I'd keep at it as long as she provided the money for printing and postage. She has. Sometimes I wish she'd stop so I could put the last issue to bed and close this chapter of my life. I can't imagine doing it on my deathbed, but who knows. Maybe that's part of God's sense of humor.