​"Oh Beauty, ever ancient, ever new!" Thus Saint Augustine eloquently wrote, addressing Our Lord upon his conversion from paganism. "Late have I loved thee!" Late, meaning he was in his thirties, and a good twenty-five years of sins were weighing heavily upon his soul when finally, through the unceasing, heroic prayers of his saintly mother,  Monica, and the spiritual paternity of Saint Ambrose, he saw the truth for what it was, and more importantly, for Who it was: Jesus Christ. 

Most people have an innate appreciation for beauty, particularly when it's discovered unexpectedly, especially when it's both ancient and new, as Saint Augustine proclaimed. The Grand Canyon is undeniably a very old formation, but if you haven't seen it before, it's new to you. Even old-timers who've seen it several times will declare that the Canyon looks different, varying in shades and hues with the time of day, time of year, and the way the sun happens to be shining on that particular day. Ever ancient, ever new. 

Since the 1960s Church experts have been debating the value of towering vaulted Gothic cathedrals with capacious stained-glass windows versus homey, carpeted octagonal-shaped buildings with comfortable chairs that look more like Holiday Inns than Catholic churches. Here at Clear Creek Abbey, where the above photo was taken, the monks are taking the classical view that goodness, truth, and beauty lead souls to Christ, the source and perfect personification of goodness, truth, and beauty and the perfect fulfillment of the ultimate desires of man, even though he may not consciously be aware of it.

And let's face it. Most of us are on auto-pilot most of the time and aren't consciously aware of much of anything except maybe our general surroundings and where our cell phones are. 

A Surprising Appearance

But then, one day, a surprisingly beautiful thing appears. Even here in the northeast corner of Oklahoma, where nothing but rock and scrub oak has stood for countless generations, one may come upon a striking limestone carving depicting the history of salvation beginning with Adam and Eve and traveling all the way through the Apocalypse, and over it all the Lord of History, the King of the Universe, ruling benignantly from his holy throne. One cannot help but stand and stare. And hopefully, pray.

The Abbey itself is still a work in progress. The construction workers are building another dormitory to house the endless procession of devout, self-sacrificing young men who are drawn here like bees to heavenly honey. While the construction workers toil, the Abbey bell will be ringing at the appointed hours all the blessed day long, calling the monks and the faithful to prayer. And Christ the King atop the Grand Portal will be over it all.  Right across from the long construction trailer, just yards from the church entrance, they will see the Abbey Grand Portal that took George Carpenter seven years to carve, laboring in the steamy, dusty heat, not just to create something that looks pretty or dramatic or artistic, but to create real, lasting beauty--beauty that draws the mind and heart of a man, beauty to open his eyes to the God who is "ever ancient, ever new," beauty to touch his weary spirit and, most importantly, to save his immortal soul. 

The Essential Things

And I thank God that he did. Because at the end of the day, Facebook memes and YouTube videos and Netflix movies, entertaining though they may be, aren't going to save the world. They will not inspire us to acts of heroic virtue or compel us to change our bad habits. They will not forcefully remind us of the invisible realm of grace from which we came and to which we may one day return if we are fortunate enough to succeed in disentangling ourselves from the powerful snares of the devil, through the forgiveness of sins obtained by Christ on the Cross and dispensed to us poor sinners through the seven sacraments in His holy Catholic Church. All they will do is divert and monopolize our attention and keep us from doing the one thing, the only thing that will achieve all of the truly essential things mentioned above: praying.

That is the role of sacred art and architecture--to remind us of the essential things. To remind us that God is real and that no matter how late the hour may be, He eagerly awaits our love and invites us to pray. 

I'd like to think that's what the man in the photo is doing. 

There is quite possibly no other subject of vast import so mysterious and all-encompassing, elusive yet indefinable, and essential but often disregarded, as the holy Love of God. And yet, that is what the Church presents to us this weekend with the Vigil on Saturday and the Feast of Pentecost on Sunday, continuing for eight days (an octave). As we come to the end of the Easter cycle, the Church in her wisdom (i.e., Christ), knows we need more than just one day to contemplate the third Person of the Holy Trinity, whose name is Love. 

[If you'd like a little musical inspiration while you read, go here to listen to a gorgeous recording of the sublime hymn of Pentecost: Veni Creator Spiritus (Come Holy Spirit) sung in traditional Gregorian chant. There are English versions, but I prefer the Latin. The musical notations are shown, along with the Latin verses. An English translation is given in the notes.]

On this, the third most holy feast of the Catholic liturgical year (Easter being first, and Christmas second), the long-awaited culmination of the mission given by Jesus Christ to the twelve apostles returns again to fire our hearts anew with "tongues of flame" in that most spectacular manifestation of the Holy Spirit, sent by Jesus and God the Father nine days after Christ's Ascension into Heaven. It is the birthday of the Church. Fittingly preceded by nine days spent in desperate yet trusting prayer by the twelve, accompanied by Our Lady, spouse of the Holy Spirit, they awaited the promise of the Father, given by Jesus as recorded by Saint Luke in the Acts of the Apostles, 2.1-11 (cf. Gospel of Saint John 14, 16) that He would send another Paraclete, and that in fact it was good for them that He leave them so that He could do so. 

Many devout Catholics have been praying these past nine days since Ascension Thursday, some in formal novenas to the Holy Spirit (formerly known as the Holy Ghost, a perhaps more apt term given His mysterious tendency to appear and disappear or, rather, to descend without warning) asking for His seven gifts and His twelve fruits, or for specific gifts or charisms; e.g., truth, joy, fortitude, preaching, etc. --whatever one might feel most in need of. Others may be praying in a general way for the Church itself, threatened by schism and heresy from within and indifference and hostility from without. As in times past, we remain in great need of Divine intervention. But He forces Himself on no one. We have to ask. Let us open our hearts to Him and beg for a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit in the Church and in souls who are disposed to receive Him.

"Come, Holy Spirit! Fill the hearts of Thy faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of Thy love. Send forth Thy Spirit, and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth."

I invite you to peruse Father Abbot Philip Anderson's homily from Pentecost (also known as Whitsunday) 2020. Given just as the pandemic was exploding, it is still relevant today. 

To learn more about the painting above, see this Catholic Digest article from May 2018 by Geoffrey LaForce.

May the Indwelling of the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, remain in our souls forever, and may we always return Them love for Love.  Amen.

Here at Clear Creek, we are blessed to celebrate the Feast of the Ascension, a holy day of obligation, as it traditionally was for hundreds of years: on the fortieth day after the Resurrection (Easter). It is truly impoverishing that in most dioceses, the Feast of the Ascension of Our Lord is now delayed until Sunday so as not to inconvenience the faithful, who apparently, so they believe, have better things to do than commemorate the rising of Our Lord into His Heavenly Kingdom on a Thursday. (Whether or not the faithful, given the chance to keep the feast in its rightful place or not, would choose to do so, is another question.) Suffice it to say that in the opinion of traditional-minded Catholics, it destroys the true timeline of events when instead of spending nine days in prayer in the Upper Room (from Ascension Thursday to Pentecost Sunday), the Church celebrates feast of the Holy Spirit just seven days later. But here at Clear Creek, all is well in the liturgical world, for which I am extremely thankful. 

Traditional Catholic parishes and monasteries enthusiastically celebrate all of Eastertide, meaning for us the Easter bunny doesn't come and go on Sunday morning and that is the end of it. No. We have been celebrating, to a greater or lesser extent, since April 4th, singing "alleluias" in the Divine Office and nibbling chocolate eggs for the past forty days (a sacred number for Biblical people). In the Liturgy, Jesus has been appearing all over the place to His, shall we say, skeptical disciples, starting with Saint Thomas, who had to place his finger in the Holy Wounds in order to believe. Even today, at the last possible moment, just as Jesus is about to depart from Earth, Jesus verbally chastises them for their "incredulity and hardness of heart, because they did not believe them who had seen Him after He was risen again." (Mark 16:14) My missal says "He upbraided them." Perhaps a more modern word would be "scold."

Poor, dear apostles. It makes me love them all the more, knowing they were ordinary men, hardworking, level-headed, blue-collar types, not religious fanatics that believed every report of the latest apparition or prophecy that oozed over the Temple grapevine. But Our Lord set them straight. And then to seal the deal, so to speak, to make sure they really believed He was who He said He was, He performed one more miracle, rising dramatically before their unbelieving eyes. Their mouths agape, their hearts pounding excitedly, they watched Him go higher and higher, until "a cloud received Him out of their sight." (Acts 1:9) 

Before He did so, though, they got their marching orders. "Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature." And they did. The previously doubtful Saint Thomas, it is said, went all the way to India, where the Church today is thriving to the point that they are sending surplus priests and nuns to America. And that is why, if you believe in Jesus Christ, and you make it to Heaven one fine day, you should seek them out, bow profoundly and say "thank you!!" Thank the Apostles for loving Jesus so much they would sacrifice their livelihoods, their families, and ultimately their own lives, just so that people like you and me can receive Our Lord's Body and Blood at Holy Mass on Sundays. And sometimes even on Thursdays.

If you are presently among those suffering Catholics who are unable to go to Holy Mass frequently (or at all) due to Covid restrictions, pray to the Holy Apostles and beg them to intercede for you that the bishops and pastors will have the courage to open up the churches once again. And of course, remember you always have recourse to Our Lady, who Tradition teaches was there at the Ascension as well (see artwork above.) That's another person you should thank, by the way. And take great comfort from the fact that like her, one day we too will follow Christ into Heaven, spiritually at first, but then corporally at the Resurrection, body and soul. If this seems too good to be true, remember this is an article of our Faith. We say it every time we pray the Creed.

On Ascension Day, A.D. 33, Jesus gave us a glorious preview of our future destiny. On Easter Sunday, 2021, Father Abbot Philip Anderson, OSB did something similar. With his characteristic hope and conviction born of a deep faith, he sums up the Paschal mystery, of which this day is a part, far more eloquently than anyone else possibly could.

When all is said and done, when the story of our lives has run its wild and winding course, when all the dramas have been lived out and all the consequences of our acts told and every debt paid, when history shall have played itself out to the end through the seasons of the heart and mind of man, with all the wreckage and ruin, when every Apocalypse shall have spent its fury and its mystery, the enemy having been definitively trodden underfoot, what will remain is—very simply—life, Divine life, eternal life, the very being of one God in Three Persons, shared with those who will be saved, all of us here as we hope, through the Incarnation, Passion, and Paschal victory of Our Lord, the Prince of Life. And then there will be nothing left to say but “Alleluia.” Amen.

Amen, indeed.
​
If you would like to read all of Father Abbot's Easter homily, click here.
​

Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God: that we, who believe Thine only-begotten Son, our Redeemer, to have ascended on this day into heaven, may also ourselves dwell in mind amid heavenly things. 

​1962 Roman Missal, Collect for The Ascension of Our Lord

One of the most beautiful Catholic customs is the annual May Crowning. Herewith a lovely video of Catholic school girls in diverse times and parishes placing wreaths of flowers on statues of Our Lady, crowning the Mother of our Redeemer with lovely ribbons and roses. "How dark without Mary life's journey would be!"

By saying "yes" to God, she gave us Jesus, and there is no greater gift possible for us mortals. Let us honor her in a particular way in this month dedicated to mothers and all those women who have helped us grow in our faith. Lyrics are in the show notes, but I am posting them here as well for all to sing along.

Happy Mother's Day to all our mothers, those still with us and those who have passed away, and to our heavenly Mother, Mary most holy, the perfect model of all mothers! 

"Queen of the May"
author unknown

Bring flowers of the fairest
Bring flowers of the rarest
From garden and woodland
And hillside and vale
Our full hearts are swelling
Our Glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest Rose of the vale

(chorus)
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May
Our voices ascending, In harmony blending
Oh! Thus may our hearts turn Dear Mother, to thee
Oh! Thus shall we prove thee
How truly we love thee
How dark without Mary Life's journey would be!

(chorus)

O Virgin most tender
Our homage we render
Thy love and protection Sweet Mother, to win
In danger defend us
In sorrow befriend us
And shield our hearts
From contagion and sin

(chorus) 

Of Mothers the dearest
Oh, wilt thou be nearest
When life with temptation Is darkly replete
Forsake us, O never
Our hearts be they ever
As Pure as the lilies
We lay at thy feet! 

O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May
​

A few days ago, I resolved to stop writing negative blog posts in favor of positive, spiritual ones. The number of the antichrist may be 666, but this evening for me it is 369. (I guess that means things are only going to get worse.) On a positive note, if you can call it that, I may have discovered a new psychological disorder: T.I.I. I challenge any cleric or religious to come up with a good Scriptural passage apropos to the problem at hand: technology-induced insanity. 

When William Wordsworth wrote the famous lines, "the world is too much with us," he had no clue. None whatsoever. Whatever world was with Mr. Wordsworth in 1802 was a tiny grain of industrial grit compared to the massive dust storm of tech overload that is suffocating many of us today.

The photo I have posted above seems innocent enough, but it represents the hour and a half I spent on the phone with a technical support specialist in Boston this evening, trying to fix my Firefox browser, which mysteriously ceased to function after I tried to install and uninstall what was touted as an award-winning encrypted email system used by corporate clients and others in the know called PreVeil. After many valiant attempts at uninstalling their email system and reinstalling my browser, he seemed to have it fixed, but it failed again shortly after we hung up. 

I spent the next hour and a half searching for and installing another highly recommended privacy-oriented browser, Epic. After I installed it, my computer prompted me to select apps to open automatically for various tasks. Seemed like a simple, routine process. When it came to choosing an app  to manage my photos, however, the available selections weren't to my liking, so I opened the Microsoft Store app to choose a different one.

Obligingly the Microsoft Store app opened in another window with icons of all the photo apps one could choose from. I wasn't sure which one to get, so I began scrolling. And scrolling. And....and I nearly LOST it. To my increasing horror, there seemed to be no end to the cute little icons, and no way to discriminate between the good, the bad, and the hopelessly complex.

For a perfectionist like me, having too many choices means I can't select the most perfect one, and anxiety ensues. To regain a minor sense of control, I decided to count the apps so I could tell the world. My anxiety would serve a purpose. I went to the bottom of the page, relieved to find that there actually was one, and began counting as I scrolled my way back up. There were.... THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-NINE of the little beasts. Truly "The world is too much with us" no longer reflects with any real accuracy the current state of things. Rather, any poet worth his salt should now say, or perhaps even scream with eyes a-bulge, THE WORLD IS OUT TO DRIVE US INSANE. 

In the end I chose Gimp, only because I remembered seeing it on a top-ten list of the best free photo software a couple of years ago. Most of the rest I had never even heard of. I chose Gimp somewhat unwillingly, because to me "gimp" is a negative word, implying something that limps along. God help me. 

I suppose all this goes to show is that I am more human, flawed, and emotionally unstable than I care to admit. While I would have preferred to make this blog a fountain of living water in the deserts of modern life, and still intend to do so, apparently a large portion of my writing is something I need to do in order to vent. And while I would have preferred to swear off all technology and retreat to my little cottage in peace, I pigheadedly refuse to quit. Tidal waves of technology can carry off the most stalwart souls, but when used with prudence, it can reach millions. To quote our beloved Mother Angelica, the foundress of EWTN, the largest Catholic radio and t.v. enterprise on Earth, "We are all called to be great saints. Don't miss the opportunity!" 

In the end, the new browser I downloaded is much more privacy-oriented than even Firefox was and comes with a cadre of helpful software like Dashlane to manage all your passwords (no more sticky notes!) Is there a cure for TII? Yes. 1) Landline phones; 2) real books; 3) real friends; and 4) God's creation. Thankfully, I have all four. 

God bless you all, and illegitimi non corborundum!