Abbey-Roads2

The “Drive Time Divas” on 107 FM, Lori and Julia, daily at 3-6PM.

Yeah, I listen to the show - I discovered it by accident while driving home one night about a year ago. Lori sounded to me like the “Cat Lady” from a bit on KQ. I listened because it was like overhearing women’s conversation in a powder room. I was curious - is that really what women talk about? (Men often want to know, since they usually can’t figure out what they just said.) Sometimes it’s pretty funny - LOL funny.

Niether woman is very intelligent - probably good business women, but they are not that bright. They continually mispronounce and misuse words, that are obviously “too big for them”. Lori really does believe she is a diva, sort of a fashion expert. I don’t know if it was Lori or Julia who sold shoes at Dayton’s in Downtown St. Paul, always one of the “B” stores of the corporation. St. Paul has never been remarkable for many fashionable divas as far as I can remember. The girls are indeed very “St. Paul” so that could be another tag line for them after the John Gielgud quote. (Actually Lori is from the Duluth-Superior area - and she does like to bowl, in fact she is on a league.)

Anyway, last evening they were at “Uber Baby”, a maternity store not far from my house in South Minneapolis. Lori said she was wearing a pregnant styrofoam stomach. The jokes came around to Halloween, she said she was going as a pregnant nun and Julia could be the priest who got her pregnant. The jokes got worse, as is usual. Lori’s been married about 4 times before and obviously has been a pretty sexually active chick. Their conversation always devolves into the type of sexual conversation that one would be more apt to hear amongst adolescents in a locker room. I flip the station when it gets that bad. (The evening before Lori was talking about big cucumbers.)

Lori and Julia seem to be rather typical of some modern working women - not the executives, rather more the office types in their cubicals - or at least their large audience may be tempted to think they typify these types; they are pro-choice, pro-gay, pro-promiscuous, self absorbed, narcissistic - gosh, what else? Julia is the Catholic one, she went to St. Gregory’s in St. Paul as a child, now however, I think she probably attends St. Ambrose in Woodbury. I’m fairly certain she does not know her faith all that well.

As you might have guessed, I’m growing weary of their mindless banter…but I’ll be back now and again for a laugh on the drive home.

The priest with the stigmata.

I painted this icon of Padre Pio several years ago, before he had been beatified. It now resides in the exquisite “Winter Chapel” attached to the Church of St. Louis, King of France in St. Paul, Minnesota. It hangs across from the confessional. It is a chapel filled with fine art and architectural detail, so I am honored that it was chosen for the space.

I painted it one day after a vivid dream the night before, a dream that seemed more like a vision. In the dream, I was in Moscow’s Red Square and entered the cathedral of St. Basil. When I looked up, the dome exploded off, and there was Padre, in the sky in this pose, blessing the world, the sky behind him all aflame, red and golden.

I never expected him to be canonized in my lifetime. It seemed only very traditional and pious Catholics continued to pay any attention to him after his death. I more or less hid my devotion lest I be considered one of these people. Priests and monks I knew were suspicious of Padre Pio, his charismata, his seemingly pre-Vatican II spirituality, as well as his chapel veiled followers. I never told anyone when I went to his tomb to venerate his relics, which was a great grace for me. Since my early childhood I had always hoped to visit him, but it was only after his death that I was able.

Then John Paul II declared this man a saint, the man other popes were suspicious of and who preferred silenced and out of the way, which his bishop and superiors did for a time. As a saint, held forth for the entire Church to venerate, he has become a figure open for all Christians to revere, with the example and witness of his life to instruct and guide the faithful in the way of holiness. He was something of a prophet, holding on to the solid traditions of the Roman Catholic faith, the very same sacred traditions being renewed in our day.

Pray for us St. Pio, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

[Prints of the icon may be obtained from Bridge Building Images.]

Photo edited/censored
for nudity.

Did anyone but me watch the PBS documentary by Ken Burns on Andy? What a trip…down memory lane.

I have always liked his art. From the illustrations of shoes for ads, to the silk screened images of celebrities, to the films. Once in a conversation, Fr. Welzbacher told me he felt Picasso was diabolical. I never asked him about Warhol.

Watching the piece on PBS I was struck how diabolical Andy’s life was. The decadence of the factory, his odd, voyeuristic sexuality, and the strange assortment of low-life personalities he gathered around him. To think I invited him to one of my parties - what does that say about me? (He told me on the phone that he couldn’t make it, but would send someone if I paid their expenses.  Someone did indeed show up as his rep, but I don’t know if he was the real thing.)

So what did I like about him? In the late ’60’s and early ’70’s he was iconic. He influenced marketing, art, and the ‘revolution’. I have always appreciated his innovation. I also often thought he was putting everyone on - playing with society and watching everyone make a fool of themselves. He was an observer. He was a documentarian. While seeming to be the antithesis of culture and high society, he craved to be a part of it, the superstar of it all - and of course he achieved that. In fact, he invented the term superstar.

Although he never did drugs, and remained pretty much asexual, the pop star sub-culture he created was steeped in it. He documented that - hence the attraction and strange validation his admirers and fans experienced. Looking back with this documentary I was impressed with how very sad and decadent the life of Andy was. I felt ‘dirty’ watching it.

Yet his work (and he was a hard and prodigious worker) holds a legitimate place in the history of art. He created - and through his creations, changed a culture - or at least, contributed to it’s change. He broke through barriers with an anarchist’s fervor. He documented our decline into depravity and amoral behavior. He reflected the narcissism and consumerism of the culture in his art. His art did nothing to elevate the human spirit, rather it denigrated it, or more precisely, brought the superficiality and decay of our society to our attention. In the end, he achieved what he set out to do, he became famous - not for 5 or 15 minutes, but forever - or as long as art exists. His work, in my opinion, is and remains art. I still like him for what was authentic in him and his work.

Did you realize he kept his mother in a house next door to his and attended Mass on an almost daily basis? He was very complex - a trait he exploited in himself and others.

Who knew about Our Lady of Lasjas in Colombia?

In Spanish las lajas means “the rocks.” This image was imprinted on the rocks of a gorge above the Guaitara River in Colombia near the border of Ecuador. It has the singular characteristic of having been painted by Angels. The image is situated inside a cave very high in the mountains, and was completely unknown until it was discovered in the mid-18th century by an Indian.

Our Lady of Las Lajas. The picture penetrates the rock miraculously. It is not painted, but mysteriously imprinted in the rock. The colors are not applied in a surface layer of paint or other material, but penetrate deep into the rock. No one knows how the work was done. Certainly it has no natural geological cause. I have never heard of any case where nature reproduced human faces with such perfection.

The image represents a noble Lady from an uncertain period, most probably 16th- or 17th- century Spain. How such a picture came to be in that cave unnoticed by anyone remains a mystery. These circumstances seem to indicate that it is an akeropita image – akeropita in Greek means not made by human hands, id est, painted by the Angels. How can the beauty of this image be described? I will comment on two aspects: the colors and the persons. (Read on here.)

The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Las Lajas was built high in mountains of Colombia. The Sanctuary entrance, which leads to the cave with the miraculous image of Our Lady of Las Lajas.

My all time favorite album, the anthem for my life, as it were - Abbey Road - hence the name of the blog. If you ever saw my painting of the same title and understood it with the ’soundtrack’ of Abbey Road - you would pretty much know me. Although you would also have to include cuts from other albums, such as Let It Be to understand it all. On second thought - you would be really confused.

At any rate, I am so busy at work that I’m not able to devote much time to blogging. I’m also in a “so what?” kind of mood. Hence “let it be” comes to mind. I’m on a break, so blogging will be light.

However, I’m having fun digging up stuff for our “Faithful Facts” spot on our new website at work. We need a new name for it because it will be more than just facts. Plus the new blog for Leaflet needs some design and I don’t know if our experts know that. The ‘Facts’ page should be good though - if they download it correctly.

Two people at work had comments about the Brother Roger post - they don’t understand why things developed as they did in his life while no one bothered to clarify his union with the Church. I thought, why does everything have to be a controversy? “So what?” I said. “Let it be.”

I’m kind of burnt.

Convert?

Brother Roger of Taize was murdered by an insane woman not long after Pope John Paul II’s death. A mild controversy arose at the Pope’s funeral when Brother Roger received Holy Communion at the funeral Mass from none other than Cardinal Ratzinger, now Benedict XVI. Though a public action, I assumed there must have been some understanding or dispensation to allow a Protestant monk to communicate. It later turned out, after Roger’s death, that he had, quite awhile back, come into union with the Roman Catholic Church.

That news was not surprising to me since the religious of Taize, though Protestant, seem to be very close to the Catholic Church, which is apparent by their embrace of monastic life. Brother Roger was undoubtedly a man of deep prayer and spirituality. After his death Pope Benedict spoke of him as being in heaven.

Catholic News has an article clarifying the nature of his entering into communion with the Catholic Church. His confreres at Taize insist it was not a conversion, but an entering into union with the Church, therefore he had no need of repudiating his Protestant heritage. Here is a portion of that article:

“The ecumenical Community of Taize issued a statement last week denying its founder, the late Brother Roger Schutz, underwent a “conversion” to the Catholic faith, saying instead he entered “progressively into a full communion with the faith of the Catholic Church without a ‘conversion’ that would imply a break with his origins.”

The statement denies a story in the French newspaper “Le Monde,” which the Taize Community said was based on a rumor spread “by Catholic traditionalist circles” and that “misrepresents his true intentions and defames his memory.”

The Taize leaders point out that the Bishop Emeritus of Autun, Raymond Seguy, has clarified his statements to Le Monde, telling France Presse: “I did not say that Brother Roger abjured Protestantism, but he showed that he subscribed fully to the Catholic faith.”

“From a Protestant background, Brother Roger undertook a step that was without precedent since the Reformation: entering progressively into a full communion with the faith of the Catholic Church without a ‘conversion’ that would imply a break with his origins,” the statement notes.

It goes on to explain that in 1972, “the bishop of Autun at the time, Armand Le Bourgeois, simply gave him Communion for the first time, without requiring any other profession of faith from him besides the creed recited during the Eucharist, which is held in common by all Christians. Several witnesses were present and can attest to this.” [snip] “Taize leaders deny “conversion” of Brother Roger to Catholic faith” CNA

This news in itself will renew the controversy surrounding Roger, yet it explains why the monk of Taize was able to receive Communion at the Holy Father’s funeral. His union with Rome may have been kept quiet for pastoral reasons, known only to those involved. It is my understanding that dispensations and special circumstances allow for many things in the Church, hence the union of Br. Roger of Taize with Rome may have been considered private. Despite the fact one’s profession of faith is a public witness. It’s another difficulty to understand, isn’t it? Then again, it could be his brothers at Taize were not pleased with Roger’s choice and seek to downplay the union with Rome thing. Perhaps it is better left to heaven to figure out.

Jesus asked his disciples this question, while it continues to reverberate throughout the ages and comes down to each individual soul to answer. Jesus knew what people thought of him, he knows what people think of him. He was calling forth a confession of faith, he was calling those who believed in him to be confessors. In the first reading for Mass this morning Paul discusses the various parts of the mystical body of Christ; Apostles, prophets, teachers, and so on. Ultimately all are called to be confessors.

Immediately upon waking this morning Our Lord’s words echoed in my heart, “Who do people say I am?” I recalled the words scrawled upon that defaced picture of Pope Benedict XVI calling Christ a “monkey upon a cross.” As a Catholic I felt a sharp pain in my soul, that Jesus is yet mocked and rejected. I think it was a grace I experienced, feeling perhaps the pain that love is not loved. I felt no anger, no need to retaliate, no desire for Catholics to riot and threaten extermination of Muslims, nor any desire to deface an image of Mohammad, not even the most remote desire to burn a mosque or spit upon the next Islamic women I see all wrapped up in a burka.

Neither did I feel any need or desire to dialogue or debate the tenets of opposing views of religious belief. Instead I silently gazed upon an image of the Holy Face this morning. It seems to me that the Church has long been experiencing the passion of it’s Master, and now she is mounting the hill of crucifixion, amidst the crowds clamoring for her execution. It is the terrifying and purifying dark night of the soul, or so it seems to me. It is almost overwhelmingly sad that love is not loved.

I don’t want the Holy Father to go to Turkey in November, but I suspect he will. Perhaps he will be safe, perhaps not. If he goes, I shall be reminded of St. Ignatius of Antioch, who, fearless of the martyrdom that awaited him in Rome, protested to those who would attempt to stop him and prevent his going, to leave him free to make the journey. He wrote, to paraphrase his own words, asking that they ‘not stand in the way of his martyrdom, that he might be ground by the teeth of lions, such as the wheat prepared for the Eucharist.’ (Another of my ‘free-base’ quotes.)

From now on, we all must be confessors of Jesus Christ. Pray for the Holy Father.

An approved apparition with spurious secrets…

There are supposedly secrets from this apparition that foretell incredible and apocalyptic scenarios of doom - that many conspiracy theorists believe to be true and currently developing in our times. None of these can be authenticated. Conspiracy theorists and apocalypse enthusiasts promulgate the unauthenticated secrets. The seers themselves have a morbid atmosphere surrounding their lives. There is little to attract me to these strange events.

Websites such as Michael Brown’s “Spirit Daily” often quote from the unofficial secrets. The entire event is obscured nowadays by unsubstantiated purported revelations concerning the original apparitions. The apparitions seemed to concern France in a particular manner, with an extension to the entire world.

Nevertheless the events at La Salette have been surrounded by controversy since, especially because of questions concerning the veracity and stability of one of the seers, Melanie. (It should be noted that a secret was given to Pius IX but it was never revealed to the public, although a secret has been retrieved from the Vatican archives in the past decade. That said, the older sensational version of the secret, reported as being the same one given to the Pope, carries no verifiable credence. Go here for an excerpt from that secret, it has been around for so many decades, many think it is official.)

Church approval of the apparitions has nonetheless been granted, as well as devotion to the Virgin of La Salette.

Go here and here for a factual account of the apparitions. Then go here for what seem to be official statements refuting the veracity of the later secret. Finally, go here for the text of the secret released by the Vatican archives and published by Rene Laurentin, once again it differs from the others in circulation. It is all very confusing to say the least.

The feast of St. Januarius.

Always a fun event in Naples - people flock there to see if the saint’s blood liquefies. It is hard for non-‘Napolidons’ to understand. If the blood liquefies miraculously, then no disasters are in the offing - if it does not liquefy, watch out.

Today it is more restrained in the Cathedral and people applaud when the ‘miraculo’ occurrs. In times past it could get rather dicey. St. John Joseph of the Cross once lost his cane in the crowd, but miraculously called it back across the Cathedral, to the great excitement of those gathered. (Eat your heart out Harry Potter!)

[A little anecdote, my friend's 'pazzi' mother, who was my brother's mother-in-law, used to tell people "va Napola!" when she was angry, this was a substitute for telling them to "go to hell". Matter of fact, my friend Roberto's parents said the same thing - I guess you didn't have to confess that. I even used it somewhat successfully when I was in the monastery. It's all in the vocal inflection, the tone, to totally devastate the person you're pissed at. At any rate, it just goes to show you Napoli is not exactly a paradise.]

You have to understand that people from this region of Italy are a little excitable. I grew up in an Italian neighborhood populated with people from Benevento. These are the Italians that are often stereotyped. They are very colorful.

It’s a fun day in Napoli, just watch your pocketbook if you visit.

Oh! And the Saint? Bishop and martyr - see, he was beheaded - not by Muslims though. (Brief biography on Wikipedia.)

Non-Catholics have trouble understanding relics of saints - I don’t at all - but I do wonder about the blood boiling thing. I really do believe it’s most likely a miracle, but I don’t grasp the point of it. I would have liked to see John Joseph’s cane floating over everyone’s head though. It just proves that Catholics are pretty fun people, and God has a sense of humor. Since He is supposedly the same God as Allah, maybe He will give Muslims a sense of humor for Christmas.