On Christmas day in 1864, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow listened to Christmas bells ring out the good news of peace on earth. But he lacked the Christmas spirit of peace.
He was still suffering from the tragic death of his wife Fanny in 1861. And Charles, his son, had been wounded in our country’s bloody civil war, which he feared would kill or wound many more Americans.
The economic crisis our country is experiencing provides us with a wonderful opportunity to focus more on the true meaning of Christmas, rather than on the materialistic spirit that often permeates our Western culture.
Since so many people are unemployed or under employed and many family incomes are shrinking, a number of people will have to limit the type of gifts they give.
I spent 20 Christmas Eves in jail. My first such Christmas Eve was in 1971. The Rock County Jail Chaplaincy Committee invited me to help to plan and participate in an ecumenical service at the jail in Janesville. I accepted.
But I waited nervously for Christmas Eve because I had no previous experience with prisoners.
Christmas Eve finally came and I drove anxiously to the Rock County Jail. The beautiful Christmas snowflakes that danced gracefully across my car’s windshield failed to calm the nervous butterflies in my stomach.
“On Christmas Eve we always . . .”
Think about all of the ways you might have finished that sentence at various stages in your life.
Although I have always cherished traditions, I couldn’t help thinking recently about how many times I have had to “break with tradition” in every stage of my life.
Dan Henninger, whose Wall Street Journal column is aptly titled “Wonder Land,” put it best: “The only good news about the Fort Hood massacre is that U.S. electronic surveillance technology was able to pick up Major Hasan’s phone calls to an al Qaeda-loving imam in Yemen. The bad news is that the people and agencies listening to Hasan didn’t know what to do about it. Other than nothing.”
Most people fear the process of dying, which involves radical dependency, a sense of powerlessness, and sometimes significant pain as well.
During October 1863, Fr. Samuel Mazzuchelli received a vision of Mary as he rode to Shullsburg with three Dominican Sisters for the sacrament of Confirmation.
He told Fr. John Kinsella, his confessor, “I have always been an admirer of beauty. But never have I seen anything that compared with the beauty of God’s mother.”
Editor’s note: Following is a response to George Weigel’s column, “Benedict and the truth about charity,” published in the September 17 issue of the Catholic Herald. Portions of this article have been edited.
For those of us who have read Pope Benedict XVI’s social encyclical Caritas in Veritate, George Weigel’s recent commentaries may seem off the mark. Did he really read the same encyclical as the rest of us?
Caritas in Veritate is a very lengthy discussion of how our works of charity must proceed from the essential truth we find in Christ. If not, then such works reflect a kind of momentary whim or sentimentality.
Robert Orben bought a baby turkey early in January. He fed it organic food to enable it to grow and become the plump, juicy main course of their Thanksgiving dinner.
His three children quickly made the turkey their pet. Like Mary’s little lamb, it followed them wherever they went.
When you read the title of this column, you probably thought I was several weeks ahead of myself or that a little dementia had set in.
Well, I know what date it is, and I am not losing my mind, yet! The new liturgical year will begin on December 1 and, just like many people make resolutions to improve their lives at the start of the calendar year, the Season of Advent presents us with an opportunity to reflect on the spiritual aspect of our lives.
