Missing Passages

Part of the fun of following the scheduled mass readings is that you notice when passages are skipped over. For example, on January 18, the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time, the first reading was the call of Samuel the prophet. We heard how Samuel was sleeping in the temple when the Lord called him. At first, he thought it was Eli calling him, until Eli realized it was the Lord and told Samuel to answer, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” Samuel did so, and grew up with the Lord beside him. The verses that we heard were 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19.

When I see a verse callout like that, I usually wonder what happens in verses 11-18? In the missing verses, the Lord tells Samuel that Eli and his sons will be punished because Eli is not restraining his sons in their iniquity. The next morning Samuel reluctantly tells Eli everything.

I understand that, for Sunday readings, the first reading complements the Gospel, which on that day was the call of the disciples Andrew and Simon Peter. So in this case, it wasn’t so much that the passage about Eli and his sons was omitted as much as it was that the part about Samuel growing in the presence of the Lord after his prophetic call was added onto the end.

It’s not as clear regarding the weekday mass readings for the Third Week of Ordinary Time, from Hebrews chapter 10. That makes it a lot more interesting. The readings were verses 1-10 on Tuesday, 11-18 on Wednesday, 19-25 on Thursday, and 32-39 on Friday. Wait a second – what happened to 26-31? Let’s have a look:

For if we sin deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful prospect of judgment, and a fury of fire which will consume the adversaries. A man who has violated the law of Moses dies without mercy at the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment do you think will be deserved by the man who has spurned the Son of God, and profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

Wow! Yikes, even! That’s explosive. It’s only by placing this passage squarely within the rest of the canon of scripture that we can temper the apparent meaning. And I can only suppose that somebody concluded that there was a danger of misinterpreting the passage; therefore, it was not included in the schedule of mass readings.

The Catholic Church teaches that we should use three criteria when interpreting Sacred Scripture. First, we must "be especially attentive to the content and unity of the whole scripture." In other words, a single passage does not stand on its own. It is a part of the whole canon of scripture and must be interpreted in the light of the rest of canon. Second, we must "Read the Scripture within the living Tradition of the whole Church." If your interpretation of a passage leads you to disagree with the infallible teaching of the Magisterium of the Church, then you're not interpreting the passage correctly. This rule requires an understanding of both what the Church teaches and the degree of infallibility that a given teaching enjoys. Finally, when interpreting scripture, we must "be attentive to the analogy of faith." In other words, if two passages seem to contradict each other, you're not interpreting them correctly. See paragraphs 112-114 in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

I’d love to know if anybody’s every heard a good sermon or homily addressing Hebrews 10:26-31. I’m almost curious enough to buy the Ignatius Study Bible or the St. Josephs CD Set.

The Council, the Society, and the Pope

The big news out of Rome last week was the lifting of the excommunication of four bishops from the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX). I know that there are a couple of people (hi Mom) who actually read my blog, and they might not be aware of the history behind the excommunications or the SSPX.

In brief, there were a lot of Catholics who thought (with the aid of the press) that the Second Vatican Council represented a departure from traditional Catholic teachings. They took advantage of the chaos following the council to run amok, pushing a lot of changes that the Council documents never authorized. In the midst of this craziness, Pope Paul VI revised the rite of the mass. I was born in 1969. I don’t have any personal memory of any of this, but it was a painful time for a lot of faithful Catholics. Many of them had their faith damaged.

A group of French seminarians really didn’t like what they were seeing, and they gathered around Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre. They formed the Society of St. Pius X in 1970 and established their own seminary in Sweden Switzerland. By 1974, Lefebvre was challenging the authenticity of both the Pope and the Council. In 1975, approval of the SSPX was withdrawn and the seminary ordered closed by Rome, with the approval of Pope Paul VI. The SSPX ignored the Pope. The next year, 1976, the Pope reminded Lebebvre that under Canon Law, he could not ordain his seminarians. Lefebvre ordained his seminarians anyway. The Pope suspended Lefebvre’s faculties, to no effect. By its refusal to submit to the authority of the Pope, the SSPX had placed itself in schism.

By 1986, Pope John Paul II was seeking a way to end the schism and bring the SSPX back into union with the Church. An agreement was signed in May 1988. Under the agreement the SSPX would get one bishop, to be consecrated from among its own priests. The day after signing the agreement, Lefebvre backed out. After announcing that he would ordain four bishops, the Pope warned Lefebvre that, should he do so, he would incur excommunication latae sententiae, per canon 1382. Lefebvre consecrated his four bishops and all five received upon themselves the penalty of excommunication.

Archbishop Lefebvre has since died, but the four SSPX bishops ordained by him have had their excommunications lifted. Pope Benedict XVI hopes that this step will renew discussions with the SSPX, with an aim toward reuniting them with the Church. However, it does not appear that any of the four bishops has expressed any contrition or willingness to submit to the authority of the Holy See, and one of the four is now enjoying media scrutiny for denying the holocaust in an interview on Swedish television.

The old Latin mass of 1962 is now widely available for those who wish to attend it, although some travel might be required. There are approved apostolates within the Church devoted to practicing and preserving the old mass. The issue, for the SSPX, is whether they are willing to accept the primacy of the successor of Peter. At the moment, it looks as though the traditional Anglicans are closer to reunion than is the SSPX.

See Holier Than Thou in the April 2003 issue of This Rock. Be sure to read the angry letters from SSPX fans in the July-August 2003 issue as well.

Barefoot in January

My dear wife, impatiently commenting to my barefoot nine year-old: “Why don’t you go play barefoot in the snow?”

Me: “Yeah. You could play Henry IV at Canossa!”

Whatever, Dad.

Snowblind

We received our first sizeable snow fall of the season, and for the first time this year, winter looks like I remember it. Yes, the snow is a pain in the lower back. Yes, it makes it harder to get around. But what do you expect when you live in Ohio? If you don’t like snow, move to the sun belt.

Although the kids were home from school, I still had to go to work, and my wife had a cleaning job this morning (she’s a small-business owning entrepreneur), so we met for lunch. Upon entering the restaurant, I realized how bright the snow made it outside; I couldn’t see a thing until my eyes adjusted to the light. Every patron who entered made pretty much the same comment about not being able to see.

I made sure to wear my sunglasses on the trip back to work.

This ties (tenuously, I know) into a post by Fr. Schnippel concerning our need to engage pop culture. I don’t know whether I’m engaging it this afternoon, or locked into a death-struggle, because I can’t get the song “Snowblind” by Styx out of my head.

The chorus just keeps playing again, and again, and again.

More Calendar Confusion

After being surprised by the Memorial of Saint Timothy and Saint Titus on Monday, I duly noted that today was the Memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas. I even noted to the lovely Amy last night that, even though today was an obligatory memorial, I was going to read the gospel for the Ordinary Time weekday, just for continuity’s sake. I thought that my calendar confusion was over. I was wrong.

For Morning Prayer, I found that I had to flip to practically every page in the book! The Memorial page directed me to the Common for Doctors of the Church, which directed my to the Common for priests (I think—I’m typing this from memory), which directed me to the Psalmody for the first Sunday. I didn’t immediately see the Invitatory Antiphon, so I flipped to the third Wednesday and used that one. It was only later that I found the correct antiphon in the Commons section.

My daily gospel meditation is still a day behind, and both the USCCB site and Food for the Journey used the readings for the OT weekday.

It seems that even if I made myself a calendar to keep this all straight, I still wouldn’t be on the same page as everyone else.

The Latin Mass

I admit that Latin holds an attraction for me. The idea that a liturgy celebrated in Rome could be celebrated the same way and in the same language in Ohio is simply wonderful to ponder. However, I grew up with mass in the vernacular, and for the most part, I think that it’s a good thing. I especially like the revisions to the readings (i.e., Old Testament, Psalm, New Testament, Gospel, along with a three year cycle for Sunday readings and a two year cycle for weekday readings) that were made in aftermath of the Second Vatican Council.

I have never been to a Tridentine mass, so any impressions that I have of one are based solely on what I’ve read, and most of what I’ve read applies to the degree of reverence that was involved. Reverence at mass is a good thing. The question at hand is whether the use of Latin produces reverence or, conversely, the use of English causes a loss of reverence.

The problem with Latin is that very few people are fluent in it. I like a little Latin in my liturgy. Singing the Agnus Dei with its miserere nobis or the Tantum Ergo gives me a little warm and fuzzy feeling in the soul (although as I’ve said before and will say again, it’s not about feelings). That said, I get tongue-tied trying to recite the Credo or the Pater Noster, and there’s little comprehension between the syllables coming from my mouth and the meaning tied to them. If the readings or the Eucharistic Prayer were in Latin, I would have little choice but to sit there dumbly, or stick my nose in a missal and try to keep up. I would need the bells and elevation to let me know when the consecration had happened. I don’t think that facilitates full, active, and conscious participation. I certainly would not want to see a return to the days when people prayed the rosary during mass.

That said, there are so many things that have become standard in the modern mass that I would love to see reversed. For example, I like the idea of the celebrant facing the same direction (preferably east) as the congregation and leading them in worship, rather than facing them as if performing. I love incense. I love chant. None of these things is incompatible with the modern mass.

Given a choice between a reverently said Latin mass, most of which is incomprehensible to me, and the vernacular mass as it is offered in most parishes, I would probably elect to attend the Latin mass, hoping to improve upon my own very limited ability to speak and understand Latin. However, given a choice between a Latin mass and a reverent English mass, I would opt for the English.

Elections Matter

On one hand, we have a President who has stated that he doesn't want women and girls who are unfortunate enough to get pregnant to be punished with a baby; therefore, abortion on demand must be available. The United States is now going to promote abortion and contraception in its foreign policy.

And we have the nominally Catholic Speaker of the House, who defends the inclusion of funding for contraceptives in an emergency economic stimulus package because it will save costs. Babies cost money. They are a drain on the economy. We must reduce the number of babies.

And then we have PBS, the government broadcaster, arguing that feeding tubes should not be given to Alzheimers patients. We're told not to think of it as starving the patient. "The patient will die, but they will die of dehydration, not starvation. When you think about it, that’s how God designed most of us to die. We get some kind of disease. We stop eating and drinking. It’s the lack of water will kill us within a couple of weeks, not the lack of calories."

53% of Catholics voted for these people.

Our Confusing Calendar

Please don’t misunderstand me. I love the liturgical calendar employed by the Catholic Church, with its seasons, solemnities, feasts, and memorials. It’s just that, for those trying to read ahead for the mass readings or pray the Liturgy of the Hours, it can be terribly confusing.

Yesterday, for example, some parishes heard the readings for the Third Sunday of Ordinary Time, while others heard the readings for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. When I woke up Sunday morning, I prayed the hours for the Third Sunday. However, my sister relayed to me that her parish (St. Paul’s) was holding a special vespers service because Paul is the parish patron and Sunday was his feast day, and this is the year of St. Paul. So, when I did my evening prayer, I prayed the hours for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul.

Then, as is my new custom, before retiring I read what I thought would be today’s mass readings. Silly me, I read the readings for Monday of the Third Week of Ordinary Time. When I woke this morning, I prayed the hours for Monday, then sat at the computer to read my gospel meditation. It wasn’t the gospel I expected. The meditation that I received by email was actually for the gospel for the Third Sunday of Ordinary Time. “Hmm, they must have gotten confused,” I thought to myself. But I’m also in the habit of listening to Food for the Journey, Sr. Ann Shields’s daily radio program, and her meditation was on yet another gospel. “What’s going on?” I thought. It turns out that today is the obligatory Memorial of Saint Timothy and Saint Titus.

So, I guess I’ll be praying Evening Prayer from a different set of hours than Morning Prayer two days in a row.

I really gotta make myself a calendar to keep all this straight.

Was ist los?

Was ist los?

Waaaay back in my high school German class, Herr Richards taught us that the phrase meant "What's wrong?" or "What's the matter?" or "What's the problem?"

Naturally, my mind went back to high school German class when I read this passage from the late Richard John Neuhaus in the latest First Things:

. . . in Germany people pay 8 percent of their income tax to the support of the church, which, given tax rates in Germany, can be a sizable sum. They can opt out of the system by registering themselves konfessionslos--but the interesting thing is that most people do not.

The German word konfession is close enough to the English "confession" to assume that it refers to a doctrinal system of belief. Putting the two words together, I started thinking that konfessionslos could mean something like "wrong doctrine" or "problem doctrine." A visit to the German-English dictionary revealed that the meaning of the term los is similar to the English prefix "un-". So, konfessionslos would mean, literally, un-confession. The meaning given in the dictionary is un-denominational. That's still not quite the same as the English "nondenominational."

So, it appears that in Germany, you can have 8% of your income tax go to the church of your choice or you can have it go to the government by stating that you've lost all your doctrine; you don't profess anything to be true.

As an American of German-Catholic ancestry, I find that interesting.

The Idiossey by Iowahawk

This post is not related to Catholicism in any way (did somebody just sigh in relief?).

Is this man hewn from Olympus,
Sent by Zeus to save our souls?
Or a plastic dashboard Jesus
In a car he can't control?

Will this Adonis save the planet?
Or is he fleecing golden sheep?
Ask another Muse tomorrow,
Hell if I know, it's all Greek to me.

Burma Shave

Iowahawk has written a wonderful parody. If you have twenty minutes to spare, it's well worth a read. There were several lines that had me laughing out loud.

Come Early for Absolution

I've mentioned before in this space that my wife and I often attend the 11:30 am Saturday mass at Maria Stein Center. The Sisters of the Precious Blood who run the center generously arrange for the priest who celebrates mass to hear confessions before mass, with a scheduled start time of 11:00.

If you decide you want to go to confession though, you should show up early.

We took two of our daughters with us yesterday and arrived at about 10:45, 15 minutes before the scheduled start of confessions. The priest was already in the "reconciliation room" (they don't have an actual confessional, so they set the priest up in a side room with a shield for those who don't want to go face-to-face), and the line was four deep. Our little group doubled the length of the line.

The priest was pretty efficient, and the line moved rather quickly. By the time it was my turn (I went last from our family), there was only one other person in line behind me. I don't think that I spent a lot of time confessing my sins and circumstances, but when I was done, I was stunned to find the waiting room packed, with Sr. Regina scrambling to find more chairs for those waiting.

As efficient as he was, the priest was not able to hear the confessions of all the penitents before mass. He generously offered to stay after mass for any who were unable to receive the sacrament of reconciliation before mass.

Why are the lines for confession at Maria Stein so long? Part of it might be the convenient time. Part of it might be the opportunity to confess your sins to a priest other than your pastor. I have to admit that it's been a long time since I've gone to the 4:00 scheduled confession time at our own parish, so I don't know whether the lines there are comparable. One thing that I am certain of is that it is simply not accurate to assert that there is no longer a sense of the reality of sin. There is a substantial population that appreciates the damage that our sin does to our relationship with God and the need to be forgiven and reconciled with Him.

Now what I don't understand is why some people, having just been absolved of their sins, don't stay for mass!

My Liturgical Focus

It’s been nearly 5-1/2 years since I put my old car out of its misery. Since then, I’ve driven a Ford Focus, which has treated me pretty well. However, that is not to say that my car is perfect. There are a number of things that disappoint me. I lost the bottom third of my rear winder defroster pretty early. A tear opened up in one of the seams of my passenger seat, but it’s hard to notice. The windshield freezes up easily, and when it gets cold, the wipers only contact at the top and bottom, leaving a large section of the windshield smeared. The radio will play MP3 files from a disc, but it won’t navigate folders, always starts at the beginning of the MP3 file (i.e., don’t try listening to a long podcast), and in shuffle mode, it always starts on the same file (thus, my Christmas CD with 50+ songs always starts with Little Drummer Boy). In addition, I’m losing lines on the display. The rear passenger window has started acting up, the lining of the cupholder comes out every time that I remove my travel mug, and the plastic casing on the passenger seat slide rail keeps coming off. Finally, even though the car is front wheel drive, it gets terrible traction on packed snow or ice.

In spite of all this, I’d probably buy another Focus. When I went car shopping back in 2003, I had two criteria that were essential: I wanted to be able to get in and out of the car without having to twist my knees around the steering column, and I wanted to be able to sit upright without feeling my hair brush the top of the cabin. As you’ve probably guessed if you don’t already know, I’m relatively tall at 6’4”. Most of the population is probably not going to have the same essential criteria as I do when shopping for a car. In addition to meeting my essential criteria, my Focus has not given me any mechanical problems. It’s never left me stranded, and it gets pretty good gas mileage. The negatives are all just minor inconveniences. I can tolerate them, as long as I have my essentials.

That’s kind of where I am with the liturgy, particularly mass (you knew I had to bring this back to the Catholic faith somehow). There are a lot of extra features that can add to or subtract from the overall experience of the liturgy, but then there are the essentials. Some things are required, some are proscribed, some words are defined and cannot be changed. I’m blessed to live in an area where we have many parishes in close proximity, and the liturgy at each has its own character due to the type of music selected, the architecture of the church, the general demeanor of the congregation, etc. Of course I have preferences, and none of the local parishes rates a perfect score on my chart. But I can accept those differences, as long as my essentials are met.

Holy mother Church gives us rules for how we conduct our public worship. It’s not hard to follow those rules, and still allow the liturgy reflect the unique character of the community. When I have multiple cars with sufficient head and leg room to choose from, then I can base my selection on the extra features. When I have multiple parishes with liturgies that adhere to the rubrics to choose from, then I can choose the location that best feeds my spiritual needs.

Giving the Matrix the Finger(s)

The full story of Michael Grumbine's battle against the "abortion Matrix" was told by Tim Drake in July 2008. A short summary follows.

Mr. Grumbine's three teenage daughters were trying to help promote a pro-life event at their high school. He wanted to help, so he had some flyers printed up, then he donned a dark suit and sunglasses, ala Mr. Smith from the Matrix movies. He borrowed an ultra-light powered para-glider and circled above his daughters' school, dropping leaflets on the sidewalk and school grounds.

The leaflets said "Fight the Matrix!" on one side. On the other side it warned students that they should not look at or talk to the people in front of the school, that they were in the Matrix and must do as they were told. Naturally, the more the teachers of the school told the children not to pick up and read the flyers, the more they wanted to, and then to go and see what the pro-life event was all about.

However, Mr. Grumbine suddenly started losing altitude. Thinking that the air intake on his engine was blocked by a stray flyer, he reached back to clear it, and two of his fingers were taken off by his propeller, forcing him to make a hasty landing.

Mr. Grumbine's efforts caused many students who would not otherwise have accepted pro-life literature to investigate what the group had to say. We should all be more open and inventive in promoting the culture of life, although we should also be careful not to lose any fingers.

Additional reporting on this story (with photos) can be found here.

Norma (Jane Roe)

From Virtue Media:

“Norma McCorvey’s testimony is a incredible example of God’s redeeming grace. I commend Norma for her courage to speak out on the evils of abortion and pray that her redemptive story will touch hearts and change minds.”

Alan E. SearsPresident,
CEO and General Counsel
Alliance Defense Fund

I Believe in God, . . .

This graphic was featured in the January 16 issue of The Catholic Telegraph. According to this poll, 7% of Catholics don't even believe in God!

I know this was an online poll, but it makes a person wonder who those 7% are.

Prayer for Government Leaders

God of power and might, wisdom and justice,

through you authority is rightly administered,

laws are enacted, and judgment is decreed.

Assist with your spirit of counsel and fortitude

the President and other government leaders of these United States.

May they always seek the ways of righteousness, justice and mercy.

Grant that they may be enabled by your powerful protection

to lead our country with honesty and integrity.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

-USCCB Committee on the Liturgy

People's Peace Pastoral

It is with a degree of sadness that I read the February 2009 issue of First Things, knowing that there won't be any more comments from Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, who died last week. It will be entries like this one that I will miss the most.

In 1983, the Catholic bishops issued, to much media applause, a pastoral letter, "The Challenge of Peace: God's Promise and Our Response." It is now viewed as an embarrassment that almost everybody would like to forget, including most bishops. Riddled with the language of appeasement and coexistence and addressing geopolitical and military details in which the bishops had no plausible competence, the letter was a direct assault on the policies of the Reagan administration that are generally recognized as having been vindicated five years later, with the dismantling of the Berlin Wall and the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union. Not all the bishops are embarrassed, however. Speaking at Jesuit-run Seattle University, Bishop Gabino Zavala, auxiliary bishop of Los Angeles and president of the Catholic peace group Pax Christi USA, called for a celebration of the 1983 letter, asserting that the only thing that has changed is that the "war on communism" has been replaced by the "war on terror," and we have yet to learn that "violence only begets violence." The bishop is calling for a grassroots consultation that, in honor of the 1983 letter, will produce a "people's peace pastoral." I can curb my enthusiasm, but it's likely to do less damage to the Church's credibility than another peace pastoral by the pastors.

It's worth noting that Seattle University employed Ann Holmes Redding as an associate professor teaching New Testament. Miss Redding was in the news a while back for seeing no contradiction in being, at the same time, an ordained Episcopalian priest and a practicing Moslem.

A Stern Warning

If the National Transportation Safety Board confirms that US Airways flight 1549 was, indeed, brought down by birds, and those birds are determined to be geese, then I expect the incoming administration to issue a stern warning to our neighbors up north.

Thanks be to God and to the pilot of the plane that everyone was rescued.

Then They Will Fast

In today’s gospel, Jesus drops the four-letter F-bomb. At least that’s how it’s always been to me. As long as I can remember, I’ve approached fasting with fear and trembling. When I was just a little younger, I would get physically sick, with severe headaches and nausea (try that on an empty stomach). I did not look forward to Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, even though the fast required by the Church (only one meal and up to two snacks) is extremely lenient. I don’t know whether my reaction was real or psychological, but it bothered me, because I suspected that it was a symptom of my refusal to enter more deeply into the spiritual life.

For the last eight years, I’ve carried a notecard in my Bible with passages that reference fasting. Every time that I’ve seen that notecard, a voice in my mind has whispered to me that I couldn’t do it. I’d get sick. My metabolism would slow down, and I’d gain weight. For at least eight years, I’ve been making excuses.

If we look to Jesus himself as an example, we see that after his baptism by John, he was driven by the Spirit into the desert, where he fasted for 40 days (Matthew 4:1-2). The question of the Pharisees and the disciples of John in Mark 2:18-20 seem to indicate that Jesus and his followers do not fast, but the answer that Jesus gives implies that his followers do not fast now, but will later. The acceptance of fasting by Jesus of fasting is reinforced in Mark 9:27-29 (see the footnote) when Jesus tells his followers that some demons can only be driven out by prayer and fasting and in Matthew 6:16-18, when Jesus gives direction on how to fast. Note that he does not say “if you fast” but “when you fast.”

There is, of course, also precedent for fasting in the Old Testament. The repentance of Ninevah in Jonah 3:6-9 included a fast. Elijah fasted for forty days before encountering the Lord in 1 Kings 19:8. And there is the passage from Isaiah 58:3-14, where God says that the fast that he really desires is a fast of mercy and charity.

I know that fasting doesn’t have to be from food, although that certainly appears to be the norm. I also know that fasting can come in degrees, falling anywhere from changing the mid-morning snack to something a little less desirable to consuming only liquids for forty days (I’ve been on a liquid diet following my jaw surgery; it is not fun). There are a number of spiritual reasons that asceticism is beneficial, among them the idea that one is disciplining the will. A comment of Fr. Frank Pavone of Priests for Life has always stuck with me: “Unless you can say no, you can’t truly say yes.” He was speaking in the context of sexual urges, but it’s equally true with respect to any appetite. Unless a person can say no to the natural desires of the will, he cannot exercise true freedom, and in the absence of true freedom, he cannot give his full consent to Christ.

What prompted all of this eight years ago was a passage from a sermon by St. Peter Chrysologus, featured in the Office of Readings for Tuesday of the Third Week of Lent: Prayer Knocks, Fasting Obtains, Mercy Receives.

Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to other you open God's ear to yourself.

Does that mean that I’ve been withholding something of myself for the last eight years? I hope not! But, at the same time, I suspect so.

Cross-Tipped Churches Photoblog

I happened across a photoblog of the cross-tipped churches that are common to our area in the northern end of the Cincinnati Archdiocese. There are additional photos if you go back into tha archive.

I don't think that the photographer is Catholic, but the pitures from the local churches are beautiful nonetheless.