Furthermore…

There is encouragment hidden in this story: that most people are part of the seed that falls on good soil and yields many times over.  I say this because any sower, or farmer, wouldn’t be out there broadcasting seed to the wind willy-nilly but would, of course, be making some effort to have it fall where it should, on the good soil. Any seed falling on rocky soil or among weeds would be because of  unwanted and unavoidable accidents, representing just a small percentage of the mass of seed distributed. May we carry over the analogy to believe that God has so arranged things that the most of us “land” in circumstances conducive to our spiritual growth and fruitfulness?

Priest in pew hearing face to face Confessions to penitent wearing paper bag with eye holes over head:

 ”You’ll probably be glad to learn that the repair work on the regular confessional will be finished next week!”

Today, the Today’s Saint email I get from americancatholic.org features my special favorite, Native American Indian maiden and virgin Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha, “The Lily of the Mohawks”. She lived in the seventeenth century, and still lives on in the hearts of many of the faithful. 

There’s a Catholic radio station in this area operated by the Diocese. I listen to some of their devotional programs, but their main offering is junk they call ‘music’ that seems to be by and for teenagers with tin ears.

I keep wondering how they can be so deep into this awful stuff; I even sent them an email telling them they should call it ‘tunes’ or ‘numbers’ or ‘performances’ but certainly not ‘music.’ No answer!

Then it dawned on me: I’m an old single guy with old tastes. I wondered how their mainstream Catholic listeners could tolerate, much less like, such infantile melodies and whiney voices. But most people LIVE WITH whiney-sounding teenagers, a lot of those teenagers trying to produce the same so-called ‘music.’ The people are used to it, beyond all rehabilitation. Perhaps it’s all the “music” they know.

I was listening to a call-in show on Catholic radio this week and a grandmotherly-sounding lady called and told about how she had had something wrong with her kidneys, and her hormones had gotten all out of whack.

Then she asked for counseling about her struggle with “custody of the eyes”. This is something nuns and monks say, refering to not looking about at every little thing like a busybody, or along the line of modesty, not ogling sexy-looking persons’ bodies.

She seemed to be talking about the ogling kind. It seemed so strange - a little old grandma eyeballing fit, hunky young men. Or maybe eyeballing women - there’s a lot more of them trotting around their physiques for inspection by all.

This urge to ogle was always in my mind a ‘guy thing,’ gazing at and wanting to ravish strange dames and strumpets. Gee, imagine a grandma having to deal with that stuff!

Bottom line: she seemed to feel that calling in to the show and getting some advice had really helped her.