As I mentioned in my previous blog post, I've been reading and extraordinarily enjoying "The Sayings and Stories of the Desert Fathers and Mothers". My class's professor charged us with, "You will know you've started to understand them when you can answer the question, 'How do they describe wisdom?'" After reading four of them so far, I have begun to hone in on an answer.

I believe the answer can be summed up by Abba Moses the Black, who in turn was answering the question, "How does one die to his neighbor?" His reply: "Unless you hold in your heart you're already three days in the tomb, you can't achieve it." In 1 John 2:15-16, we are told:



In Matthew 10:39, we read:



Meanwhile, it is said in Romans 12:1:



The Desert Fathers and Mothers repeat this concept all over in their teachings. To quote Abba Moses again, he explains to one of the brothers that the Lord "...killed the firstborn in Egypt, there wasn't a single house where someone hadn't died." When the brother asked for clarification, Abba Moses responded, "...'to die' means to bear your own sins and not worry about everybody else's..."

In other words, die to yourself, this world, and your own sins. Participate in Jesus' passion, as He died for our sins and went into the tomb so He could rise again, so should we die and be born anew. Abba Poemon echoes Abba Moses, again calling out the tomb explicitly:



Amma Syncletica talks about people of the flesh-- people of this world-- being like "culinary experts". But she explains, followers of Christ already have food which surpasses that! She articulates this idea later on, in further detail:



And:



All of this calls to mind the homily Bishop Barron gave at the Steubenville conference earlier this year. He talked about these stained glass windows which he called "the wheel of fortune." In the uppermost part is a man on top of the material world; on the right, the man on his way down materially; at the bottom, in material poverty; and on the left, on his way back up.

At all four stages, the man is unhappy. Falling down? Fear of poverty. Poverty? Fear of being stuck there. Even on top-- fear that the guy on his way up will take his place. But in the middle of this stained glass window is the cross. Bishop Barron suggested that if we're living in this world, we are endlessly chasing the peripheries-- around and around we go.

Rather, we should live in the middle: that once centered, we can watch our lives move through the cycles with a sort of healthy detachment from worldly affairs. I think the Desert Fathers and Mothers would have very much agreed with this homily-- that this is wisdom.

I recall some years ago that I read Saint Faustina's diary, and for a time thereafter I started to "think" like her. It was a very fruitful time of spiritual development for me. I once heard a man say, "If you want to be a pro tennis player, hang out with tennis players; if you want to be a good businessman, hang out with good businessmen."

If you want to be a saint, hang out with holy people-- even if vicariously through their writings.

I've been reading small parts of the enormous two-volume set "The Sayings and Stories of the Desert Fathers and Mothers", and once again I've found myself thinking like the people about whom I'm reading. For example, I went for an hour-long walk along the trails which bless St. John's, and I was listening to the clock.

Many such bell systems chime on the hour, with the number of chimes corresponding to the hour. Then at the one quarter, half, and three quarters marks, they chime once, twice, and three times, respectively. If one hasn't been present enough to catch the "on the hour" number of chimes, he'll know it's "quarter after"-- but, quarter after what?

At the same time, the system allows one to engage fully in prayer without constantly needing to worry about the clock-- because every fifteen minutes, the clock will operate like an alarm. So there is this tension or juxtaposition which seems so emblematic of faith overall between being present to each moment on Earth, and being present to God.

I also got a bit lost on the trails, but listened for construction noises-- there was a tractor being run somewhere on campus. I followed the noise, and found my way out. That experience reminded me of the inner working of our souls. We can get lost in the maze of discernment sometimes, but God is always calling out to us to help put us back on track.

On another note, I looked up at the giant bell tower, and got vertigo as I always do when looking at a high place. I imagine myself hanging from such a place, with my arms tiring and no way to get down safely. This is how we often view situations in life-- we get "uncertainty vertigo" because God is asking us to go way up high, and we convince ourselves that once there, the situation will be untenable. The error in thinking is that it's our strength upon which we are dependent.

While it's good to ask for and receive supernatural strength from God, it is also folly for a man to attempt a thirty mile hike in the wilderness having not eaten for four days. One must know his limits and take care of himself.

It was my forty-fifth birthday yesterday. This giant Ms. Pacman had been hanging from the ceiling in a store in the local mall for probably the past year, and every time I happened to be in the mall, the store would be closed. But, Ellyn and the kids surprised me with it as a gift:




Knighted

Perhaps Duncan can be my squire? I am now a member of the Fourth Degree in the Knights of Columbus, which is the "patriotic" degree! One interesting thing I've observed is that although with our tiny human brains it's difficult to know the truth of a matter with too much certainty, a sure sign that one has picked up the trail-- like a detective's bloodhound-- is when multiple roads, originating from totally different sources, point to the same location.

Regular readers will know that I spent a couple of decades studying economics, politics, and social organization. That journey led me eventually to uppercase-L Libertarianism.

The formula for property ownership is different between Libertarians and Catholics: to a Libertarian the property is owned by whomever "homesteaded" it, i.e. put their labor into it and made some improvement to it. To a Catholic, God owns the property and we are simply temporary stewards, using that property to try to make saints of ourselves and others.

But the fundamental truth underpinning both of those views-- the gears in the clockwork which keep the models ticking-- is the same between the two groups: that the individual is sovereign, not subjected to other men. Chris Stefanick once made this video in which he explains that God has imbued us with human souls-- that far from being meaningless pieces of sand on an endless beach, we're "a Pretty Big Deal".

From Genesis 1:26:



To a Catholic, we are alone amongst creation to have a soul, and we are alone amongst creation to be made in God's image. Even though as a Libertarian I didn't frame things in terms of God, the above is exactly in line with how a Libertarian also thinks: their entire view of self-defense and self-sovereignty is based on the fact humans, alone among creation, can reason. If you lack the species-level capacity to express the will for self-defense, then you are not sovereign.

In other words, also to a Libertarian you're "a Pretty Big Deal"-- unique among the creatures. A squirrel, by contrast, lacks the capacity for reason; for self-reflection; and so is subjected to man. To a Catholic, a squirrel lacks a human soul-- reaching the same conclusion: it is subjected to man!

To a Libertarian, Free Will-- including freedom of association-- is sacrosanct. Provided someone isn't preventing someone else's exercise of Free Will (i.e. aggression), they are free to do as they choose.

To Catholics, the exact same is true. God loved us so much that He instilled us with Free Will, so we could choose him. As love is a voluntary reciprocal act, forcefully stopping someone else from exercising their Free Will is to rob them of their testimony-- provided of course they aren't acting in aggression towards someone else.

Once again: different paths to get there, but identical conclusions.

Although the United States Founding Fathers were more Minarchist than Ancap, the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights are extremely libertarian (little-l) documents. Tying this back in to the Knights of Columbus then, the Fourth Degree presentation and exemplification lived right in the "Venn diagram" overlap of Catholicism and Libertarianism, really driving home the relationship between the Faith and American patriotism.

It turns out, that overlapping section of the diagram is even larger than I'd heretofore thought.


Rogue

One of the secondary sources I used for my most recent paper was the latest in a series of writers I've encountered lately which have a sort of flippancy about them, which I think is in error. Really, I think it's fundamentally a product of ego. When Pope Leo I explained that Eutyches was not humble enough to admit that perhaps there were wiser men than he, it wasn't a statement of arrogance on St. Leo's part-- it was an observation rooted in fact.

If I read Scripture then came up to you and said, "Actually, I don't think Mary is the Mother of God", or "I don't think Jesus has a divine nature", or "I don't think the Holy Spirit is part of the Trinity", you would be very justifiable in replying, "You do realize that these are all settled questions already, right? Do you not think the very Holy Spirit you bring into doubt had the winning hand in our understanding of these matters?"

It's good to be intellectually curious-- but with humility. To explore the mine, but without setting off dynamite and collapsing the whole structure, which is counterproductive as it leads us to bizarre conclusions. I could describe the notion as something like, "Growing comprehension, but with guard rails." Whereas this author I was reading, and others like him, treat things so casually! There are no guard rails: everything is up for grabs by the author, based on his own conclusions.

There is that famous Chesterton quote about tradition being the "democracy of the dead", and I think there is a certain checking of the ego which needs to take place, especially when studying subjects related to the Faith. There should be this acknowledgement that people far smarter than us have already hashed these fundamental questions out, and that God's Divine Providence was involved-- that it's good to study and understand the teachings, but to also not go our own and dive our car headlong off the cliff.

And that's not even touching on the concept of Apostolic Succession and the authority it carries with regards to teaching!


Lazio Setup

To end on a lighter note, this video is an awesome breakdown of how Gattuso's Lazio play. I've seen every minute of this season, and in every single game, no matter who we are playing, the opposition is constantly in a state of frustration. I had wondered how this was mechanically possible, and the author of this video breaks it down in great detail!

It was initially surprising to me that this Lazio has less verticalizations than Sarri's team from last year, given that team looked like they could play for four hours without creating a single goal chance. But after watching this analysis, I can see how both are true-- verticalizations and possession do not necessarily equate to goal scoring chances.

Ellyn, the kids, and I went today to see the new "Street Fighter" film at its very first showing in our town! In our modern age of dead culture where the last first-order innovation was Minecraft back in 2009, very rarely do I get excited for some piece of popular media.

I was only vaguely aware of the original title when I was a kid-- so like most people, I became familiar with the series when the second game initially came to arcades. I was mesmerized by the giant characters, all of the colors on screen, how "tight" the gameplay felt. "Up" jumps, and "Away" blocks? What a novel idea!

I watched with envy as the Super NES got a home conversion, while I had to wait a whole year for the eventual Sega Genesis port of "Turbo"-- which was called "Special Champion Edition" of course, due to legal reasons. In the lead-up to that release, I had the issue of "Game Informer" with screenshots on the school bus.

When the game finally did come out, I sat there for two hours on the first night trying to figure out how to throw a fireball! I bought the Genesis port of "Super" at Funcoland the day it came out. Later on in 1994, seeing the longbox of "Super Street Fighter II Turbo" on the shelf at Software Etc. was the final straw on the camel's back that made me had to have a 3DO. To this day, it's my second favorite video game of all time.

I played the "Alpha" series all through high school, along with "EX Plus Alpha" on the PSX, which I loved too. I remember calling in sick one day to my first IT job in 1999 because I had sat up all night marathoning the world tour mode with Ken in the PSX port of "Alpha 3".

I didn't care for III-- and that was the final mainline entry; all of the subsequent ones up through VI are actually part of the "Street Fighter EX" series, being polygonal. But that period from "II Turbo" all the way through "Alpha 3" were incredible.

So I'm a sucker for the series, and its characters and world are tops. So how about this new film then?

Well, it's one of those dopey 2020's movies which will age like junk and have everyone laughing at it in twenty years: "Oh, it was from that era of cinema... yuck." But for what it is-- a silly CGI movie with corny Marvel-esque one-liners-- it was well done. By 2026 they've sort of mastered the art of how to make bad movies.

I was surprised by the hipsterish animated sequences throughout-- not a fan of that style, it's sort of artificial, like "this is what you think animation used to be like, not like it actually was". It was also weird having some of the characters, especially Blanka, be human faces sort of "glued" to CGI models-- a little uncanny valley.

In terms of canon, it takes place between the original "Street Fighter" and the first "Alpha". I won't say more than that. On the vein of not giving away any spoilers, they big-time set it up for a sequel. So I'm sure we will have "Street Fighter II: The Movie". Then maybe we can get "Street Fighter II: The Movie: The Game", and get Van Damme to be Guile's dad, or something.

It would be fun if our culture would ever come off life support and start making serious, first-order movies again. But "Street Fighter" scraps are better than starving to death.

My dad came to visit on Saturday which was a lot of fun. He's thinking of moving to my area permanently, which would restore a "sense of normalcy" aspect of my life which I've been missing for many years. For those with healthy, available parents, do not take them for granted!

After Mass on Sunday, I spent the entire day writing my next history paper. The first draft is complete, and I am mostly pleased with it. I am making the claim that while Gregory of Nyssa applied his notion of "epektasis" to individuals, the Church herself is continually undergoing "epektasis", as the Body of Christ. In the paper I give examples correlating excerpts from Gregory's "The Life of Moses" with how ecumenical councils demonstrate this process at the Church level.

The busy weekend really knocked the stuffing out of me, and I am now several days without a good night's sleep. Haven't had enough silence or leisure time, so I am deeply underwater. Things are feeling very surreal today. I run the Liturgy Committee directly after work, sort of wish that was a different day, but it is what it is. Tomorrow is a school day, I am hoping it can be low-key so I can recover, since my paper is basically done. Tomorrow night is our local church's Feast Day, so we are having Mass. Thursday is work, the whole snow tire swapping ordeal for the 86, plus the "Street Fighter" movie, which I've been excited for.

I think I have Friday evening off, but then it's all day on Saturday for the Knights fourth degree exemplification. Sunday will need to be a recharge day for me, so I don't go underwater next week again. The rest of October is just as busy, so I need to get that time when I can.

I got the amazing news that two of my greatest friends got engaged over the weekend-- this is a cause for celebration! They are certainly the most compatible couple I've ever known, so although the news was amazing I also wasn't surprised by it. I've been playing a very little bit of the latest "Fire Emblem" game. I would say it's "so-so"; graphics engine is dated, and I'm not sure I care for the whole map exploration mechanic.

Blessings.

Inspired by "The Rule of St. Benedict", I created my own. I was planning to do this for fun on a weekend, but then to my surprise and joy it got assigned as part of my course work. "You mean I get college credit for something I was going to do in my free time anyway?"

I then had Copilot take what I had written up, and generate a poster from it which I can hang on my wall. Click on the below for the full-sized image:



The number one priority I identified as part of this process-- which is not represented on the poster, but it was in my original source document-- is not even spiritual: it is to finally solve my sleep, for real.

Three days ago I ate pasta for dinner. I exercised. I went to bed at 8:30pm. I woke up continously the entire night, and rated my sleep as an "F". I was borderline hallucinating on the drive in to work. Two days ago, I ate pasta again for dinner, exercised, went to bed at 8:30pm, and rated my sleep as an "A-", which is practically unheard of for me.

Yesterday I ate pasta, exercised, went to bed at 8:30pm, woke up continuously the entire night, and "for good" at about 2:00am. That is another "F", and I am barely able to think straight today.

I have not felt particularly stressed, so it's not that. I followed the exact same sleep hygiene and ate the same diets, so I don't think it's those. I blockaded the bottoms of my bedroom doors with clothes to make sure no mice ran in, so I know I wasn't getting woken up by rodents.

I bought an air purifier and am breathing much better, but am still waking up constantly-- so I don't think it's apnea, and besides that I essentially don't snore and have a healthy BMI.

My best guess at this point is that I am chemically dependent, to be able to sleep at all. I am on Trazodone, Melatonin, and Ambien CR. I think they "run out" of my system early in the morning, and then I wake up. A next step would be to wean myself off of the drugs, but that would mean basically not sleeping at all for a couple of weeks. So I would need to very carefully schedule that into my life.

My diet could use improvement, but I'm sensing that would simply "nibble around the edges" sort of like the air purifier did. There is a massive, core reason why I'm waking up. The good part is that, after fifteen-odd years of issues like this, I am finally tackling it head-on!

In any event, today is paper-writing day. Or more specifically, reading source material to be able to write the eventual paper. I also have my history class, and youth Faith Formation tonight at church.

What a pass from Veron! I love watching highlights from matches around this time period. Football was so much more direct, and the players were substantially more creative and clever.

On a different subject, I had kept my PC Game Pass subscription alive just for the new "Gears" title, only to find out from post-release gameplay streams that the title is hopelessly "woke" beyond reckoning. If I cancel now at least I won't get billed for October.

As Christians, we believe that all human beings have full dignity as beloved sons and daughters of God. We are all imbued with human souls, and Jesus purchased salvation for all of us, where through our words and actions we can merit our eternal inheritance.

Marxism meanwhile is literally incompatible with Christianity, as Marx divided humanity into two groups: the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. Your intrinsic value as a human being is based on which of the two groups you are in. Marxists had and have no qualms about executing bourgeoisie, because that group is viewed as sub-human.

Cultural Marxism concludes that Marx's predictions didn't come to pass because they didn't go far enough. You see, it's not just bourgeoisie who are evil: so too are white people, men, Christians, heterosexuals, the able-bodied, and so forth. Those are all "oppressors". The "opposite" of those groups are the "oppressed": black people, Muslims, homosexuals, the disabled, etc.

Your value as a human being is based on simple math: for each "oppressed" member group of which you are a member, your life has more worth. So, a black Muslim lesbian in a wheelchair is in +4 territory. Her superficial "intersectionality" membership is all which matters: not her morals, not her adherence to Jesus's teachings, and not her virtue.

By contrast, a white Christian man who can walk is in -4 territory, even if he has had a life of great misfortune. In power, Cultural Marxists do their best to denigrate, disenfranchise, and even destroy those with low "bingo card" math, not taking any attributes of the individual into account.

The Church often uses the term "Social Justice", which I usually hear in reference to the very sensible teachings of Pope Leo XIII. At some point, Cultural Marxists co-opted that term to mean what I describe above: an alternative religion with a strict and clinically lethal caste system. As Catholics, we should be careful not to inadvertently adopt any facets of "wokeness", which is completely contrary to the Gospel message, by confusing the term "Social Justice".

Similarly, we ought not support cultural works such as the new "Gears" game, which normalize this ideology.

From our Holy Father, bold emphasis is mine:



From Ken Kutaragi, the father of the PlayStation brand-- quotes from the article; bold emphasis is once again mine:



Both of these articles were in two completely different sections of my news feeds, in the same day! It's always fun when spiritual and secular authorities arrive at the same conclusions.

I'm so sleepy right now, I think I could lay down and doze off. My sleep has been dismal, but the fact that I am feeling sleepy during the day is a sign that maybe I am making progress on being more relaxed? I haven't been able to take a nap in decades, so this is a new development for me.

October is going to be crazy!

• On Friday I am getting "trained in" on helping with Benediction at "the big church in town."
• On Saturday, I will be serving for the First Saturday Mass, including helping at adoration there as well.
• On Sunday, I am lector.
• On October 10, my dad is coming to visit.
• On October 17, I am entering into the fourth degree in the Knights of Columbus.
• On October 24, we have our annual men's retreat.
• On October 31, I have an all-day lecture here at St. John's.

I had such a wonderful evening with my friends yesterday. After class Joe played guitar; Kristy was there, just chilling; Marina came later, along with another gal. At one point a fellow came with his accordion, and he and Joe did a hilarious joint-rendition of one of those songs where every time through you add another element to the chorus-- sort of like "The Twelve Days of Christmas", but picture a bunch of Germans with beer-filled steins. Of course, we did not have any drink, but that's the imagery which came to mind for me.

The Italian restaurant where I worked as a teenager regularly had an accordion player on busy Friday nights. It produces such a harmonic sound! It always makes me think of this song from "King's Quest V". Not accordion, but this is the other song I always think of from that game.

Now that our Tuesday "Discernment in Prayer" class is done, Joe, Kristy and myself are going to start going to the local nursing home on Tuesdays! It's sort of a "new ministry" we are going to begin. I'll be asking if others of you want to go too!

I also read another one of Cyril's works, this time his "Mystagogical Catecheses 5", which is on the Liturgy. It's incredible how close it is to the modern-day Catholic Mass! When I help Father wash his hands, he says some prayer about "wash me from my iniquities", and it turns out that this "ablution" happened way back then too! The significance of the hands is that they symbolize action: so by washing them, the presbyter can be clean in their conduct.

The sign of the peace is another one: back then the deacon would say "Welcome one another, let us kiss one another." This symbolized a "co-mingling of souls", a union of hearts, and a leaving of grievances against our brother at the altar.

Back then they said the English equivalent of "It is meet and just". Today we replace "meet" with "right"-- but very similar regardless. The Sanctus was a thing back then-- Angels and Archangels; Virtues, Dominions, Principalities, etc. etc. etc. Then "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord of Hosts", same as today!

They even offered intercessory prayers, for emperors, armed forces, those fallen asleep, and so forth. Cyril explains these with the analogy of, a king banishes someone, so relatives offer a garland; in our case, we offer Christ Himself for the departed.

Receiving communion? Make a throne with the left hand, do not lose even a crumb, treat it like gold dust-- same as today! One difference is that, back then, they would sanctify their eyes and foreheads with the Precious Blood as well. They would sing, "O taste and see that the Lord is good". Sometimes at my church we will sing the modern song "Taste and See"-- maybe we ought to do that one even more frequently?

Anyhow, I'm caught up in history work, might see about going for a walk.

Yesterday, I was reading St. Cyril of Jerusalem's "Mystagogical Catecheses", specifically the ones regarding baptism. It just so turned out that we had a baptism at Mass this morning, and Duncan and I were serving at the altar, for that up-close observation!

I listened very carefully to every word during the prayers, and so much of what Cyril wrote was in there! For example, he makes this typological reference between Moses parting the seas and the water swallowing up pharoah's men, to Satan being swamped up via baptism. Here it is, right in the modern-day baptismal prayers:



Cyril explained that when Jesus was baptized by John in the river Jordan, and then came out of the water to be anointed by the Holy Spirit, that is why we are anointed with the chrism oil. He also explained that baptism is the antitype-- which is just a fancy way of saying the reference is working in reverse, chronologically-- of Christ's passion. Behold, the modern-day prayer:



Cyril explained how we are exorcised with olive oil so as to be partakers of the good olive tree. The oil "disperses every concentration of the cosmic forces arrayed against us." Guess what the modern oil of catachumens is made of? Olive oil. From the modern prayer:



Regarding the renunciations, Cyril devotes a lot of words to explaining these. Most notably, he explains that not only are we rejecting Satan, but Satan's works, and that all sin is Satan's work. Further, we are to reject the "pomp" of Satan: Satan's "vanity", and the "frantic dancing of degenerates". He makes an analog between the Eucharist being the food Christ provides for us, and sin being like the "food" Satan tries to get us to consume.



Cyril references another prefigurement: that of Moses anointing Aaron after the latter had bathed in water, whereafter Mosses called him "Christ", or "anointed one". From the prayer:



A final connection I'll reference is the concept of, in baptism, shedding our old selves and being born anew. Cyril quotes both Colossians 3:9 and Ephesians 4:22 to make his point-- we don't strip naked today to be like Christ on the cross, or to be like Adam before the fall: naked but not ashamed. But we do put a baptismal gown on the person:



There are differences too: in Cyril's day they would face West towards the place of darkness, but then towards the East later in the process, towards the place of light-- we don't change directions in the modern baptism. In Cyril's time, they would annoint the forehead ("reflect the glory of the Lord"), the ears ("to be able to hear the divine mysteries", the nostrils ("we are the incense offered by Christ to God"), and the breast ("putting on the breastplate of justice"). Today, it's just the breast (with the oil of catachumens) and the forehead (with the sacred chrism).

I'm also not clear on the parts where Cyril equates the invocation during the baptismal prayer as fundamentally altering the substance of the oil, with the consecration of the bread and wine during the Eucharist: was he speaking in literal terms, or just offering a vague analogy even though it's not the same thing? This will be a good thing to clear up so that as a deacon, I will actually understand what's happening when I baptize!

One of my best friends did a deep dive on why Catholics and the Orthodox "pray to" Mary, and the saints, as is often said. He sent me scripture verses which are used in support of the position, and also ones which seem to argue against the position. I do plan to dig into scripture, but to be helpful I thought it would be fun to brain dump what I've always heard explained by Catholic priests and others for now.

It has been emphasized to me over and over that, as Catholics, we are not praying to Mary or the saints, even though in a shorthand manner of talking people sometimes phrase things that way. Rather, we are asking them to add their prayers to ours.

I'll start with the saints first. Notice that I used a lower-case "s". Everyone who dies and whose souls wind up in holy union with the Father in heaven are "lower-case s" saints. "Upper-case s" Saints are a subset of those to whom the Church has recognized via canonization.

As Catholics, when we say the word "communion", it means a very specific thing. I once taught this catechesis lesson to Henrietta years ago, and while I don't remember all of the groups exactly, it was something very close to: the people in the church building as we celebrate the Holy Mass; our fellow Catholics outside of the immediate church building; our non-Catholic brothers and sisters in Christ; the angels; and the deceased-- i.e. the "communion of saints".

We say this in the Confiteor during Holy Mass. I hold this as one of the most beautiful prayers ever written. Bold emphasis is mine:



And in the Eucharistic prayers:



Mary is a special case, and thanks to school I can actually understand the historical context behind this! I won't go into all of the details since entire libraries of books have been written about it already, but in the very early Church there was a huge debate between three terms, all relating to Christology: what is the essence of Christ's nature?

Some thought that Christ was more than one person: one divine, and one man. Others thought that Christ's divine natures and human natures were "bolted together" but totally separate; others thought that perhaps the human nature "dissolved" into the divine nature. The Church settled on the concept of the hypostasis-- that Christ became man, and fully assumed both divine and human natures.

Regardless, depending on how you answer that question leads directly into how you view Mary! If your view is that she only conceived of "Christ the man", then you might call her "anthropotokos"-- the bearer of another human. In that case, she's not that special really. If you think she conceived of one person of Christ but only the human nature part of him which is bolted on, then you might use the term "christotokos".

But if you're Catholic, Mary is "theotokos", the Mother of God. To be clear, the belief isn't that the Son didn't exist before Mary's womb. Rather, the understanding is that the hypostatis took place in her womb-- it was in that moment of conception within her that Christ became man, the whole of himself hypostatically in union.

With that Christology, Mary suddenly becomes a hugely important figure! Just like in the Miracle of Cana, where the people went to Mary-- "we're out of wine"-- and then she went to her son, so too we can ask Mary to intercede for us to Jesus. It's not that we need Mary to get to Jesus! But we're asking for her to pray with us, in the same way we ask our friends to pray for us.

I once read of a Saint who was asking Jesus for a special grace. Every night she prayed-- and the grace was not granted. Finally one night in frustration, she said "Don't make me go to your mom!", and the next day she received the grace. Whether you believe that story or not, it illustrates very well the Catholic view of Mary.

A final thing to note, but it's a related topic: the statues, stained glass windows, and so forth in Catholic churches are not icons-- they are not being worshipped. They are what we call "devotional materials": by reflecting on them we can come to know and love God more fully. It's the same thing as Lectio or Visio Divina, which are favorite practices of many Protestants! It's not the actual paper in the Bible which is important.

Here is a personal testimony I wrote once, where all of the imagery in the church building helped me along in my understanding of the salvation Jesus purchased for us on the cross. Had the church just been blank walls, I wouldn't have had this understanding some to me, or at least not in this special way!

Also, as Catholics we believe that Jesus is literally present in the tabernacle, so we want to build a nice house-- after all, God lives there! If we feel compelled to have a nice house for ourselves, should we not double that effort for the Lord?

Really cool article, love stories like this. So happy God answered her prayers and those of her family. What particularly strikes me is that she was both served and served others simultaneously! For example, people helped her and her family flee to the next country over, and there wound up being no church-- so she helped start a church there. Her example shows how communion with others is truly a reciprocal act.

I stopped by the adoration chapel for a bit yesterday afternoon, having driven straight from school. As soon as I started to cross the parking lot, I started to feel emotional, and I couldn't quite figure out why. Once I was in the chapel and praying, I had this wonderful image of me being given this huge treasure chest in the form of my formation and education at St. John's.

I looked around at all of the other people praying in front of the blessed sacrament, and realized that I was doing all of this to bring this vast fortune back to them-- to share the treasure! I felt very overwhelmed with gratitude at this image; how could the Lord have possibly entrusted me with such an important mission, when there are so many others who would be so much better at it than I am? God has blessed me very much indeed.

Yesterday, I caught up with my school work and was able to go for a walk. I started off passing the Abbey, and took a picture. As I walked, I caught a glimpse of a building through the trees, which is the second shot. And then I discovered... a football pitch? The fourth picture made me think we need a photo-realistic RPG with simple gameplay, like the 16-bit era. Finally, I passed by-- and through, I hope I haven't entered an Oblivion Gate-- a strange, solitary archway. Curious!

Click on any of these for the big versions:

I just got home a bit ago and have a rapidly brewing headache, but I had a characteristically wonderful and very fruitful meeting with my spiritual director this afternoon, and he shined light on several of the conflicts I've been trying to resolve since this post. Notably:

• Regarding essential teachings: he explained that the sin wasn't being wrong-- the sin was being persistently disobedient when confronted with the truth. For example, Nestorius exhibited very near zero willingness to admit that he was wrong, and when he was point-blank asked to stop confusing the faithful, he persisted in his heresies.


• He asked me: "Is it important that someone knows the truth about Christology, even if accidentally haven mistaken ideas won't preclude you from salvation?" My answer was: "Of course! Who knows what crazy notions we would have." He replied: "Exactly! Knowing Jesus does matter, even if we can't all be experts in every nuance."


• Regarding my conflicted feelings about pulling back from certain things even though I know they would be fruitful: "Well, do you think it's a problem right now?" Oh! "Uhh, well, no actually, not at this time." "Ok! Then be aware of it, but don't worry about nothing either."

I also asked him about different Bible translations, and whether he thought passages from, let's say, Esther, were added or removed. His reply: "Does it really matter? The New Testament was 'added later' too, but it's obviously canon. We [as Catholics] believe that the canon [in the Catholic Bible] was divinely inspired; what is or isn't in it reflects God's will."

On the drive home I also came to a resolution on another conundrum I was facing: what if something completely bonkers was added to Church teaching at an ecumenical council? In other contexts, I've heard examples like, "What if it was declared we should no longer believe in God?"

I read an example today from a Protestant church-- I can't recall which one-- where it was said that perhaps Jesus's resurrection "shouldn't be taken literally." That would be a concrete, real-world example.

On the one hand, Church teachings changed a lot in the very early centuries I've studied so far. But while I was driving, a distinction came to me: the Church teachings weren't really changing-- they were being refined; they were honing into a more finely pointed wedge.

So I think if the magisterium issued a teaching which was clarifying or offering elucidation on something we fundamentally know to be true, that would be valid. But if the Church did an about-face and completely overturned a teaching, like saying Jesus did not rise from the dead, that would be a different story.

I'm so early in this journey that I feel like my understanding is evolving on an hour-by-hour basis. It will be fun to look back on these posts in six months, a year, four years, and so forth. I will continue to bring all of you along for the ride, so we can all study and learn together.

Search on YouTube and you will find dozens of non-AI videos of contemporary robots fighting each other, or even a recent event where one fought a human! The robot-on-robot ones remind me of "One Must Fall: 2097", while the others recall to mind the opening boxing match in "Cyberpunk 2077".

Except these are real, and not from a video game! We've arrived. To where exactly is up for some debate, yet here we are.

Pope Leo XIV chose that name because Pope Leo the XIII was "the industrial revolution guy", and with how rapidly things are evolving, I would say that "new industrial revolution" comparison isn't nearly strong enough. I don't think it's an unreasonable take to say that the present day, rapidly evolving "progress" in AI and robotics will create upheaval so profound that the entire popular view of what it even means to be human will change.

Not for us Christians, of course. AI and robots do not have souls; they are creations of man and only exist in this world of flesh. But for people who do not actively have God in their understanding, I sincerely don't know how they will cope, or what conclusions they will draw; start worshipping the robots maybe?

Nevertheless, our role is clear: continue to spread the Gospel message to as many as possible.

Speaking of "Popes named Leo", I was just reading Leo I this morning. His "Tome" was delivered in 449, and in it he further clarified foundational beliefs such as the nature of Jesus's natures: human, and divine. Thirteen "Pope Leo's" and about 1600 years later, we're wrestling with super intelligent, recursive self-improving computer algorithms. Weird!

Regardless, listening to all of the various commentators, the people who made these systems, major heads of state such as President Trump, and countless others all throwing widely divergent, competing opinions on the situation really does make it feel like we're in a situation of the sort which led up to major ecumenical councils and the like.

The Church will see her way through this, as she has always done in the past. After studying the very confusing explanations from figures like Nestorius or Theodore of Mopsuestia, Leo's "Tome" felt like a refreshing moment of singular clarity for me. I had the same impression when studying the huge debate about the permanent diaconate in the build-up to Vatican II, then reading the incredible "sensibleness" of "Lumen Gentium 29".

The Holy Spirit will guide us, even through these times.

I'm blessed to work with several of my best friends, and we get into lots of very interesting conversations. One such topic we got into yesterday was that of purgatory. The Catholic teaching can be found here, in the Catechism. Please do read the actual text, but to sort of paraphrase it in my own terms, it's like this:

When we die, our souls are not in a condition to "withstand" heaven, or to look on God's face. Figuratively speaking, being in the Lord's presence in this imperfect state would melt our faces off; we couldn't withstand it. To flip that around then, our souls can only exist in that perfect union with God once perfected.

Death = Soul not ready.
Heaven = Soul ready.

So there is some kind of gap there which needs an explanation. The Catholic answer to that gap is purgatory.

The other subject we got into was Catholic salvation theory. As before, please go look this up in the Catechism of the Catholic Church for the official teaching-- do not take my ramblings as official! Maybe some day I can do a "deep dive" and cite lots of courses, but for now my own understanding will have to suffice:

Catholics have this notion of being in a "state of grace". We also differentiate between what we call "venial" sins and "mortal" sins. A third concept is the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which I will not go into here, as that's probably a whole series of blog posts just by itself!

To tie all of those together from a high level though-- again, please check the Catechism for the details:

A venial sin is a "slip up"; like, someone cuts you off in traffic and you curse at them-- then right away, you're like "Shoot-- sorry God, I didn't mean for that to happen, it just slipped out." It's still a sin, but it's not the kind of sin which will sever our relationship with God, when it was a momentary accident and we're authentically contrite.

A mortal sin is one where we say, "You know what God, I know this action I'm about to do is sinful, and you know what? I just don't really care, I'm going to do it anyway." Mortal sins actively turn us away from God, to the point where they can and do sever that connection with the Lord: they remove us from a "state of grace".

As Catholics, we do not presume to know God's judgement: how could we? Only God knows His judgements! But what we do know is that, if we commit a mortal sin, are unrepentant, have not gone to the Sacrament of Reconciliation and confessed that sin, and we die in a car accident while in this condition, our souls are in grave peril.

Again, this isn't like some kind of mathematical formula-- we can't know God's judgement! But we had best be careful to not commit mortal sins, and if we have, to confess them and receive absolution as soon as possible. Further, receiving the Eucharist before that happens is compounding the mortal sin with a second one.

Catholics also believe in "culpability"-- to make an extreme example, if the Jungle Book kid who was raised by a pack of wild pineapples slaughters the neighboring tribe and has literally never even heard of God, it's still a grave sin to have murdered, but there is this founded notion that a factor of culpability will go into God's "judgement mixer". To what degree, only God knows-- but it is "a thing".

Heaven is being joined to God's love perfectly and eternally.

Since love is a voluntary, reciprocal act which requires giving by two or more discrete persons, if we repeatedly tell God we don't want an eternal relationship with him by persistently turning away from Him, then we won't have that relationship! We said "no" to it!

God wants us to buy that plane ticket, but ultimately it's our choice. Satan is constantly trying to get us to put the ticket through the paper shredder. If we are authentically contrite, God will give us a new ticket-- but then Satan will tempt us to the paper shredder again, and again, and again. This is where an active prayer life becomes indispensable.

I've been feeling especially off balance recently, as I'm grappling with several things all at once.

Let's say you see a homeless person: starving, and with sores all over their body. You perform great acts of charity for them. You arrive at the pearly gates upon death, and Peter says "You spent your whole life performing selfless acts of love in Jesus's name; nice job! You also loved God with all of your heart, and loved your neighbor as yourself. High five! But, you can't go in: Christ's nature is actually a tertium quid; you had it wrong, sorry about that!"

I mentioned this to my friend Grant at work, and he said that this is what all of the myriad Christian churches struggle with: what is essential. The more I learn about early Church history and how one person became a Saint while the other guy became a heretic and got excommunicated, when they both had very sensible positions and both agreed on what appear to be the essentials... well, it has upended a lot of mental structures for me, and I'm trying to assemble a new understanding.

That line of thinking is what motivated my previous post: As Christians-at-large, what governing principles could we use to satisfy the various theological understandings in a non-breaking way? Related to this notion is: as a future Catholic deacon, no matter how tiny, what role will I play in an ecumenical sense especially in helping others become saints? The theology behind "charity" seems straightforward: but what about "word" and "sacrament"?

How will I be able to promote the sensus fidei and draw people into communion, but without accidentally compromising essentials?


The Role of Intellect

I once read, "God gave us an intellect, which we can use to understand Him-- and it is through knowledge of Him, that we can grow to love Him more." But then I have also read, "The biggest thing between us and God is our own minds, which interfere with the stirrings of our heart."

I had to be reminded, "Mike, those can both be true." The "Paradoxology" book, and indeed my theology professors, have told us that the richness of the Faith lies in the sweet spot between apparent contradictions. The key is to flow with them along the river, not get stuck on either shore.


Active and Inactive

Another thing I have been struggling with is this spectrum between what I need to do, what I ought to do, and what I shouldn't do. I grew up in a "people pleasing" family, so often-- throughout my career, for example-- I have said "yes" to everything, only to then blow up like a steam kettle later once the pressure grew too much.

Lots of my fellow students say, "I do lectio divina every morning". God bless all of you for doing so-- that is truly wonderful, and I would like to do that too!

Along with say the Rosary, Morning Prayer, and probably ten other things which I know would be good for me, and which people have recommended. The reality? I wake up at 5:30, which as a natural night owl is far too early for me already, and by the time I'm done showering and packing my bag for work, I am out the door to commute there in time.

Is it more important to get to work on time, or to pray? They both seem necessary. Maybe I need to start waking up at 5:00. But is not sleep necessary too? These are difficult questions to weigh. In the evenings, if I don't jam pack every minute, I won't complete my school or work commitments-- or, I will miss the window where I can in fact fall asleep, which will cause major problems the following day.

The solution to all of this is I think, is that I need to start saying "no" to more things, to give myself that breathing space to not just sit with God and improve my prayer life, but also to engage at least a little in my special interests. I heard it recently said that the Benedictines "can only have so many guests, so that they can continue to have guests." This is where I am at in life.

But some of the things I am saying "no" to would undoubtedly be fruitful! So it all goes back to discernment, and placing things on the aforementioned spectrum. I also am working to get over my "feeling guilty if I have idle time to relax my nervous system" conditioning: "If I'm not hypervigilant at all times, I'm actually moving backwards; falling behind the unrelenting movement of time."

In September, I have had so much school work that I have been acting more as a Mad Scribe, taking down reams of notes but without fully digesting what I'm learning-- digestion which requires, you guessed it, downtime. In October I will be down to a single class, which should increase the efficacy of my studies. But, problems will undoubtedly still remain.


Permanence

Hopefully in sharing some of these things, some of you can relate and we can discern together, as community. In that spirit, I will share one more paradox: that of a sense of lack of permanence on the one hand, and the need to "not anticipate, just participate" in life. That our "steering wheel" is just one of those toy plastic Fisher-Price ones parents give to their children.

I only just returned to the Faith four or five years ago-- so, a transition from moral frameworks such as Anarcho-Capitalism to Catholicism. I think I have fully processed that one, but only fairly recently in the scope of my life. How about moving from my childhood city to a completely "foreign" place? I'm still not sure the "new place" feels one hundred percent like "home", and perhaps it never will given all of my formative memories are from elsewhere.

How about the transition from a member of the laity to the possibility of being an ordained cleric, in just a few years? How about the transition from a major introvert, to a quasi-socialite? What about the transition from being a parent to young children, to have a daughter in college?

I've had varying degrees of success in wrapping my arms around all of these changes, plus others beside, and how they have and will radically transform my identity as a person. But, should I not just abandon myself to His Providence? Abandonment and processing appear somewhat juxtaposed to me right now. As before, I sense that I need more "quiet" in my life.


I will continue to pray for all of you. God bless!

Today I was thinking about what it might look like to try to merge all of the split Christian churches back into one: to bring everyone back into the fold. One governing principle could be a notion of "greater" and "lesser" forms-- or, "extraordinary" versus "ordinary" forms; pick your favorite phraseology.

I don't know enough about the Orthodox churches to give a concrete example, but let's say they have something in their liturgy which is extremely strict or reverent, as compared to the Catholic novus ordo-- in a joined Mass, we would do the "greater" form: to the Orthodox it's required; to the Catholic it isn't required, but it causes no harm either. So the practice is compatible to both faiths.

During the liturgy, we would perform the full Eucharistic prayer and the transubstantiation of the bread and wine, by the same principle: this isn't necessary for the Protestant, but does no harm to them, whereis it is necessary for the Catholic. So, we would do the "greater" form.

There are obvious problems with this however: would it be an affront to God for a Protestant to receive Jesus, fully-present in the Eucharist, when the Protestant actively dismisses that very notion as they consume Jesus? This is the current Catholic teaching. Maybe there are Orthodox-versus-Catholic Mass differences which work that way too.

Or what if two Christian churches have conflicting views? Just to name one example, some Protestant denominations think baptism is what saves; other Protestants think baptism isn't required at all.

How do we inform the faithful as to what is necessary for salvation? How would we catechize? It seems like there would need to be history's largest-ever ecumenical council to try to close the loop on the biggest points of difference. No one would have their personal or current views completely affirmed, but would be asked what is close enough to work for them, in the name of Christian unity.

Of course, many perhaps wouldn't even want a single church. When I disagree with a family member, I don't secede from the family: I compromise with them. In that spirit, I would like us to be in full communion with one another, as one unified Body of Christ. I don't want a "Church of Mike", a "Church of Frank", a "Church of Susan", and so forth. But I recognize that this is a personal value of mine; it in itself is perhaps a point of conflict!

What do all of you think about this idea?

Continuing on from this post, I have another Catholic Pokémon for all of you! Click to view the full version:



Also, last Wednesday I had a little extra time over lunch to walk around the St. John's campus. Such a cool place! Click on any of these for full-sized renditions:

Finally wrapped up the peer review draft of my first-ever Theology paper! It explores the relationship between the Christologies of Nestorius and Cyril-- how they disagreed and, more importantly, what common ground they had.

Long-time readers will know I've always been a sucker for mobile apps. At work I took over a barcode scanning application which is written in an ancient version of Xamarin Forms. It builds both UWP and Android versions, and uses MSAL for authentication.

One of the first bugs I was handed involved the UWP version "freezing" on login-- not every time, but most of the time. I thought it would be a trivial fix of maybe a few hours, but it turned into two full days of worm can opening.

As I learned, there are two main ways of brokering authentication via MSAL: using what's called the "Web Application Broker", or "WAB"-- or the "Web Account Manager"; the "WAM".

The "WAB" is this old .exe called "AuthHost" which has shipped with every version of Windows for a gazillion years. At some point, a Windows 10 update rolled which broke the "WAB", causing login freezes. Another Windows update fixed it-- but then another broke it. So "AuthHost.exe" has been in varying states of brokeness for several years, across both Windows 10 and 11.

Of course, this is the form of authentication the UWP app uses. So the "freeze" isn't due to the application code-- it's due to "AuthHost.exe" not working correctly.

Around the time this initially broke, Microsoft had moved on from Xamarin and forward with MAUI. They also deprecated the "WAB" and not only refused to support it, but removed it from their internal test labs entirely! "Migrate to WAM", was their instruction.

I started on that migration process on Friday morning. I found out after hours of hacking and researching, with Copilot's full inspection of the codebase as well, that WAM will not work with this ancient version of Xamarin, because there is no way to obtain a low-level, IntPtr handle to the parent window.

WAM supports opening a browser to facilitate authentication, but that won't work either because, being sandboxed, Xamarin UWP apps are not permitted to run other applications. Indeed, I get an exception from the app when it tries to launch "msedge.exe".

I thought, "No problem, I'll just spawn a timer thread, and if it looks like AuthHost.exe is going to lock up, I'll pre-emptively kill the process, from code, without the user even knowing it." Yeah, UWP apps aren't allowed to kill processes either. "Ok, I'll spawn a PowerShell script to kill the process." No dice: the PowerShell script would just be running in the sandbox.

I considered, "What if I had a .bat file run a 'cleanup' script invisibly, and then launch the application?" Trouble is, what would the cleanup script do? I carefully monitored "AuthHost.exe", and it doesn't start until the moment before it dies: whereas, I was hoping it was a long-running process, pre-dating the application, which I could kill so as to get a fresh, working one.

We are planning to re-write this mobile application completely in the coming months or maybe year. I'm tempted to just throw a message on the login screen for now, instructing users to just click "End Process" if they get such a message.

In the 2000s on Fox Soccer Channel, there was a football announcer named Christopher Sullivan. He used to describe teams as "moving the ball side-to-side... like an accordion." I never understood quite what he was on about, especially when he once substituted the word "accordion" for "octopus!" Your guess is as good as mine.

But as I was reading the introductory chapter to the awesome book "The Christological Controversy", by Robert C. Saler, Christopher Sullivan's strange simile popped into my head. The aforementioned first chapter provides a fairly in-depth overview of many of the very early Church thinkers and their views.

As I'm wont to do as I read I took down a bunch of notes, and it seemed to paint an "accordion"-like pattern to me. In the "condensed" stage, some teaching is put forth, and a sort of consensus is formed. I recall reading that in today's Church, we refer to that as the sensus fidei. But then, various thinkers will raise all sorts of objections and come to alternative conclusions. In my mind, I see this as an expansion of the accordion.

But then an Ecumenical Counsel will convene or some other major pronouncement will be made, and the accordion will contract again as the Church takes an official position; followed by divergence, then convergence, and on and on again.

One cycle like this could probably be seen starting with John 14: 6-11, where Jesus says "I am the way, and the truth, and the life", and "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father". At first blush, the reaction might be "It's strange, but I can see it, and it makes sense: God is truth, and Jesus is God, so if you see Jesus you see the Father."

As it turns out though, an explosion of all sorts of different opinions emerged! Justin Martyr took the "truth" bit and made the case that Jesus is Logos-- pure reason and logic; the means and intermediary via which God created and interacts with the world, respectively. Justin viewed Christ's relationship with the Father as a "fire lit from a fire" (Saler, Page 5).

But then came along the Monarchians, who viewed Justin's views as a threat to monotheism itself (Saler, Page 6). Or how about Marcion and the Gnostics, who made the claim that the flesh doesn't matter, only the spirit? "But not so fast", says Tertullian, who argued that the flesh itself is an object of God's love (Saler, Page 10).

Of course then there was "the big one" in the form of Arius who argued that Jesus is not fully God, "There was a time when the Son was not", and what's more that Jesus was part of the created order (Saler, 14). His pundits in turn argued that according to that model, salvation is impossible because a creature cannot save humanity!

This "peak accordion expansion" led to a "peak accordion contraction" in the form of the Council of Nicea:



This is just one example of such a "Sullivanite" cycle (accordions, not octopi!). There were many more to follow, and the process continues all the way in this present era of synodality. I'm learning that this is one of the most beautiful aspects of the Church! As the accordion expands and contracts, it makes beautiful music (well, as long as I'm not playing it anyhow).

I recently heard it said that when we say "Pilgrim Church on Earth", we mean it: the Church herself is the pilgrim! She is always arriving. I also recently heard it said that as Catholics, we would rather see the Body healed-- not parts of it amputated. Disagreements are good and healthy! Had we not Arius, we would not have the Nicene Creed.

During a recent lecture for the "History of Christianity I" course I'm taking, our professor postulated that "Rome existed to tax, and to tax efficiently; The strategy? Kill independents, find a local leader, and keep local religion alone so they pay their taxes." As Judaism was already "grandfathered in" by the Roman authorities, to members of the early Christian Church, the question of whether Christianity was a new religion or simply an extension of Judaism was quite literally a matter of life and death!

What was their view?

A few of the texts we've been assigned so far-- "The Martyrdom of Polycarp" [MP], "The Passion of the Holy Martyrs Perpetua and Felicity" [PF], and Justin Martyr's "The First Apology" [FA]-- seem to supply a ready answer: even allowing for some degree of selection bias-- these are, after all, recitations about and from martyrs-- early Church adherents seemed to view their religion as something new. And in fact, they appeared to believe this so strongly that they took grave risks in an era where perceived disobedience to the emperor and the Roman gods demonstrably resulted in a one-way ticket to the amphitheater, for a date with a lion!

In Chapter 4 of "The First Apology", Justin pointed out that the Roman disposition towards Christians involved not investigations into the virtue or vice of the individual accused, but rather a blanket "conviction" based on the "Christian" title alone. Because the verdict was not based on evidence, he pointed out in Chapter 8 that "it is in our power, when we are examined, to deny that we are Christians..." In other words, if Christians weren't serious about their beliefs, the loophole to avoid conviction was so large as to be preposterous; recant and be spared.

Even right up to the moment of execution, the proconsul gave Polycarp repeated opportunities to simply step right through this simple escape hatch! This can be read in full detail in Chapters 9 through 11 of "The Martyrdom of Polycarp". Polycarp had every chance to say, "Apologies for the misunderstanding", and be sent on his way.

The same pattern repeated with regards to Perpetua and Felicity.

Over and over again, Perpetua's father asked her to deny her Christian beliefs, appealing to the difficulties it would cause him, her baby, the family, and so forth. Although he was grief-stricken, he evidently believed in the efficacy of "offer[ing] sacrifice for the well-being of the emperors" (PF, Chapter 2) and other similar about-faces by his daughter, to the authorities.

Perpetua even gave her father the analogy of a pitcher: "Can it be called by any other name?", to which he responded "No." Her reply: "Neither can I call myself anything else than what I am, a Christian." [PF, Chapter 1] She did not say "a Jew", or "a Roman"-- she specifically emphasized that she was Christian; something new, and different.

These are just a few examples from the readings, there are many more besides such as the lengthy discourses Justin provided to the authorities, carefully laying out distinctively non-Jewish precepts such as the Trinity (FA, Chapter 6), albeit he does often frame these ideas within a Jewish framework to cooperate with his audience's existing understanding; or the wild appeals to the crowd which Saturus made, and the manner in which he implored the guard Pudens to be "confirmed", as the former handed the latter his blood-soaked ring [MP, Chapter 6].

While not exhaustive by any measure, this should suffice for now as at least the beginnings of an argument. God bless!

I'm so proud of my daughter, Henrietta-- she is a very deep thinker with a rich inner world.

She is at the local college taking classes via PSEO, and her instructor asked the students what they thought was the nature of being human. Henrietta-- who is quite shy ordinarily-- raised her hand and explained in fairly great detail what she saw as a dual-nature: intellectual, and biological. She said the teacher was so excited by this response that she spent the next twenty minutes of her lecture addressing it.

I posited to Henrietta that she missed a third element: spiritual. Every human being who has walked the face of the Earth has at some point felt the need to address questions larger than themselves: "Why am I here?", or "What is the meaning of all of this?" All moral codes derive from a spiritual need to know what it is to be human.

In terms of taxonomy, I gave her a model of what I called "positive" and "negative" frameworks.

Negative frameworks would be those that do not obligate their adherents to any specific sort of action towards anyone else in order to live a moral life. An example would be Libertarianism: don't hurt anyone else, and you are ethical. Or Buddhism: meditate inwardly to achieve enlightenment.

Positive frameworks do obligate their adherents to positive action towards others. In Communism, one must turn over one's property to the group. In Christianity, one must actively perform works expressing love of God, and to try to get others to love God too, for the salvation of souls.

I also asked her to noodle on this question, and to get back to me: "Can one know every thing in reality via the five senses?"


Catholic Pokémon

I read "The Martyrdom of Polycarp". I sort of thought his name sounded like a Pokémon-- so on a whim I asked Copilot, "If Polycarp were a Pokémon, what would he be?" Click to view the full-sized image:



Loving what I saw, I then asked it to generate Pokémon for the three clerical orders of Diaconate, Presbyterate, and Episcopate. As before, click on these to view the full sizes:







I think it would be fun to generate a whole bunch of these-- maybe religious sisters and brothers next? Or Legendary Pokémon, along the lines of the Polycarp one? It's such a fun convergence of the Faith and video games.


St. John's

I'm running out of time for blog post writing for the evening, but I have probably ten posts worth of knowledge to share, just from my first week at St. John's! I also want to walk around the campus and take lots of pictures.

I did snap a couple of pictures of my room, viewed from either direction. Click for full-sized versions:





I'm not entirely sure, but these rooms may have been cells in which the Benedictine monks lived? My room is a bed, a desk, and a sink. I absolutely love it! Even the bedspread is this kind of coarse linen with a very unique texture. Even just that aspect of the experience has been incredible.

For those of my new friends who are reading this, you have been so incredibly kind to me-- I feel so blessed and overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you! One of my new friends is in fact a Benedictine himself: I asked him if I could visit the monastery one day, if I promise to try my best to not interfere.

I will write much more as the days and weeks progress!

My deacon mentor recently gave me an article about the four dimensions of diaconal formation. In my previous post, I wrote about how the first three-- human, spiritual, and intellectual-- flow one from the other, and lead to the fourth one, which is pastoral.

The author of this article adds additional clarification to my understanding: he describes how the first three really integrate with each other: for example, if one was pursuing human formation without spiritual, it would be more like a simple "self help" program and someone would wind up "like the guy in the TV commercials."

He also mentions that Matrimony and Holy Orders are the two Sacraments which make us "community organizers", hopefully able to lay down our lives for the salvation of others. I paused at this part initially, but as I reflected on it more it made sense: a family-- husband, wife, and kids, are essentially "little communities"; and of course, a deacon is called to serve as Christ in the parish and broader community.

The author warns though: while service is critical, it must be mission-oriented for us to be "envoys of the bishop", as he puts it. My sense is that it would be like serving in a soup kitchen just to feed people, versus serving in a soup kitchen to lead others to God.

On an unrelated note, I read through some "digital literacy research tutorials" for St. John's, and I felt myself getting emotional just browsing through their library catalog. To think I have access to all of this-- I could spend lifetimes studying and teaching others with just a subset of this knowledge!

They even have entire video sets! I just about lost an evening in a "History of Baroque Music" documentary; after ten minutes I had to force myself to close the tab. I'm so grateful to God for giving me this opportunity to learn, so I can teach others and help them grow closer to the Lord as well. What an almost unfathomable blessing!

For those who don't know, I will be starting my "Master of Arts in Ministry" classes at Saint John's School of Theology and Seminary on Monday. My friend Dan and I carpooled to the all-day orientation today, and it was such a positive experience!

The other students in the orientation were amazing, and I got this overwhelming sense of welcoming, humility, and warmth from all of the staff, including several who will be-- in one case, very imminently!-- future teachers of mine.

One of the things they had us do was fill out an inventory, to help us establish a baseline for the four aspects of ministerial formation: human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral. They operate in roughly that sequence: grace was described as "building on nature"-- so human formation raises our capacity for spiritual attunement.

In turn then, encountering Jesus as the image of the Triune God through spiritual development opens the door to the requisite humility required for intellectual growth: there is always someone smarter than us; how will we be equipped when such a person has a more sensible position than ours-- will we able to learn from those around us graciously?

Finally, all three of those feed into pastoral formation. I have often wondered at examples of great pastoral leadership both in my own community and elsewhere-- now I'm just beginning to understand the recipe which forms such wisdom.

We were given this incredible metaphor of the Church being like a river, with two shores. On one shore, one might have "Jesus is fully divine"; on the other, "Jesus is fully man." It is important for us to reconcile even such difficult concepts by flowing with the Church in our understanding, versus getting beached on the ground. Simultaneously, we mustn't form a rivulet by digging our own trench away from the river.

Another take-away from that inventory: I knew that there was a vast ocean between where I am in knowledge, and the whole body of theology, Church doctrine, and so on. The intellectual part of the inventory questions followed roughly this format: "In your ministry, do you perform some function X by leveraging understanding of theological concept Y."

Maybe I had heard of a tiny smattering of those ideas-- obvious ones, like the Trinity. But I quite literally had never even heard of most of those terms, much less knew what they meant. My knowledge deficit isn't an ocean: it's more like the distance from the Earth to the Sun!

As I have time during this very busy month ahead, I will try my best to describe many of the things I learn so that all of you can be on this journey with me, and hopefully also grow closer to God by knowing Him better.

I was playing some "Metroid Prime 4" on Switch 2 today, and decided on a whim to snap a few screenshots. On my TV-- an LG C3-- I don't think the game in motion is that far off from a PlayStation 5 title, when you take the 120 Hz and HDR into account.

Click on any of the below for the full 1080p images. The game also has a 60 Hz 4K mode, so bear in mind that the below aren't even as good as the title can actually look in still images-- if I really wanted to show off screenshots, I would have the game in the resolution mode.

But I'm a sucker for 120 Hz in any game which supports it.











Otherwise, having one of those days where I'm sort of "running out the clock" until bed time; had one of those nights where I could tell I was only half asleep the entire time, so I feel worse than if I had just never gone to bed in the first place.

I have a busy next several days!

Tomorrow it's my first deacon mentor meeting in the morning, then in the evening the Knights are honoring me along with my friends Dan and Adrian for pursuing the diaconate. I'm continually floored with humility that God has opened the door for me to potentially serve as an ordained minister, when I can think of a hundred men more qualified than me.

On that note, I'm kicking off the next steps for my liturgical involvements, getting on the schedule for extraordinary minister training and altar serving at "the big church in town." The only way to get over that intimidation is to march right on through it, just like anything else in life.

Tuesday night sees a Pastoral Council meeting, while on Wednesday night I'm running the Liturgy Committee meeting. Thursday, I will be at St. John's for an all-day orientation, from early morning until late in the evening. Then on Friday there is a Zoom-based continuation of that orientation.

Saturday I will be most likely hanging out with some great friends of mine from the Twin Cities, who will be up here to visit. Then on Sunday I am sacristan at Mass. And then on Monday, classes start!

The commercial in this post is fun to watch, in a wistful sort of way. I wasn't born until 1981, but I remember what the world was like not long after this advertisement was run, so I have first-hand witnessed what has essentially been a total collapse of the Western world.

It is still ongoing, and it is accelerating!

Remember when 32 gig. of DDR5 was less than a hundred bucks? Remember when gas was just a couple of dollars a gallon? Remember when your grocery bill was half what it is today? Or when you could eat at a fast food location for five bucks? Remember when you could apply for three jobs, get three offers inside of two weeks, and get to choose among them?

That was just a few years ago!

In my twenties and thirties I spent a ton of time learning about economics. Long-time readers of my old blog, "Exigent Duality", will remember those days well. Everything the Austrians predicted has come true. Here is an article which was in my news feeds this morning, explaining why people aren't having kids anymore-- do the factors sound familiar?

Going back to that 1979 car commercial: people will say "Yeah, but adjusted for inflation those cars were expensive!" They are forgetting that people had almost unfathomable purchasing power back then compared to today, given their wages. In the 1970s, my grandfather bought a corner lot on a parkway, built a 3500 square foot house on it, and sent several children through private schools-- moving furniture.

Try moving furniture today and affording even a tiny studio apartment, much less owning a house or buying plus insuring a car-- much less having kids! There is also the general-- excuse the mild vulgarity-- "enshitification" of things: shrinkflation gone wild; Flock cameras everywhere; major websites covertly spying on you; and so forth.


A Constructive Framework

I saw this quote in the Archbishop's mailing list recently: "Google tells me that the Polish equivalent of 'holy cow' remains 'Swiety Jacek z pierogami'-- St. Jacek and his pierogi!" Maybe that needs to be my new catchprase?

I read "Benedict's Rule" for the first time a few nights ago. I am going to try incorporating several elements of that into my daily life and structure. I'm someone who is unusually dependent on structure and predictability anyhow, so "The Rule" seems like something which could be of huge benefit to me on multiple levels.

After all, he describes "The Rule" as the "guide in our search for God." It's always good to have a guide!

One key lesson which is repeated over and over is to not "murmur". Apparently, the translation is from "murmuratio": the Israelites to Moses, is the perfect example. "Not murmuring" isn't just an outward, juridical thing: it requires inner assent and obedience. Meanwhile, obedience and love are expressions of one another: obedience is a sign of love, and love leads to obedience.

Concretely and in a monestary, this means obedience to the Superior. For me as a potential future deacon, it will mean obedience to my Bishop, vicariously through my Pastor. But moreso, it means obedience to God's design in every moment.

Another cool thing in "Benedict's Rule" is hearing him describe Liturgy of the Hours so precisely, in the 500s-- it's so close to what we do today, and from now on when I pray the Office, I will reflect on just how long people have been participating in pretty much these identical prayers.

Discipline is described as "demanded reasonably for the correction of vice and preservation of love." It is said that although discipline can seem harsh, and the road is narrow as Jesus Himself explains, all discipline must be in the service of prudence and charity. There is a quote about not wanting to break the vessel when removing the rust.

A recurring theme is how much compassion is given to those who have "weak constitutions" or other limitations. On the one hand there are often-severe punishments for breaking the rules. But on the other hand, great efforts were made to accommodate different persuasions.

For example, when discussing the provisioning of goods, "It is on those grounds that the superior should take into account what is truly necessary for those who suffer from an individual weakness." Or with regards to kitchen duties, there is a passage explaining how work should not create distress, and that roles should be shuffled around so this does not become the case.

As someone on the Autism Spectrum, this allows me to give myself additional grace: God wants us "free from sin and safe from all distress". Moreover, it gives me the confidence to ask for accommodations in the workplace: I am justified by God in asking for those things.

There is lots more I could write on the subject, but one final thing for now: Lectio divina played a huge role in monestary life, but not just when reading Scripture: also when reading Church fathers, or even classic literature-- there was a strong emphasis with connection and reflection; how is God using what I am reading to draw me closer to Him?


Amusements

For the first time in some weeks I actually managed to post a couple of game reviews! Check out the 'Wharf for my takes on "Grandia" and "Skald".

I also took the "EA Sports FC 26" current player ratings for what will likely be Lazio's starting line-up this season. Good enough to avoid the drop? On paper I would say this is a solid mid-table Serie A team. But as we saw during much of last year with Fiorentina, what's on paper and what happens in practice are two different matters entirely.

Somewhere around 1996, my paternal grandfather was cleaning out his closet and ran across his original 640K IBM XT clone which looked very similar to the real deal. He gave it to me, along with an ancient EGA ISA card and EGA monitor-- I had so much fun with that thing!

It was surprising how well 1980s DOS games ran on it; titles like "Maniac Mansion" or the DOS version of "Megaman", or text games such as "ZZT". There was even this untextured polygon science fiction tank game which had surprisingly steady performance on the 8088.

Funnily, after I had installed the EGA card I could smell burning: I immediately flipped the PC off and realized I hadn't seated the card all the way! The slots from the very early 1980s were much less reinforced than something like modern-day PCI-Express; things were a little wobbly or "mushy"; no affirming "clicks" or other feedback.

Not to mention, motherboards of that era-- and even well into the 90s-- had a good half-dozen dipswitches you had to have set correctly, otherwise you'd fry the whole thing! Plugs were also not dummy-proof, so you could definitely connect them in backwards and short everything out that way too.


Metaphors

If (God willing) I do go on to ordination one day, and (God save us) I am preaching after that time, I think I will use a lot of metaphors. It's so much easier to understand something by way of analogy or mental picture!

The danger with metaphors: there is that concept in philosophy where "the thing" and the understanding of "the thing" in our minds are obviously not the same; fidelity to the truth is lost. This point was well-illustrated by an old friend of mine who used to say, "All models are wrong; some models are useful".

Further, during a homily the metaphor-- already imperfect in the deliverer's mind-- must be communicated to the congregation. Playing "telephone" adds a second layer of risk. A third layer of risk is that the subject in homiletics is often God, who is intrinsically incomprehensible.

But, if the metaphor is carefully thought through, the concessions as to its accuracy are clearly explained, and it is framed by adequate context, I think they can be a powerful catechetical tool.

Another thing related to homiletics I've noticed is that the subject matter often differs between roles. In my parish, our pastor gives pastoral-oriented talks, since that's his role! "What messages do I need to communicate to shepherd my flock in the correct direction?" It could even be encouragement to participate in a bake sale, if that's what's required at that moment.

By contrast, our parochial vicar leans more towards Theology and Scripture analysis, how to spiritually orient oneself towards God, and how to apply those concepts practically.

Our deacon then leans into the relatable: "I once saw this movie, maybe all of you saw it too, where this character..."-- he bridges (minister of the threshhold) complex Theological concepts with humble references people already know and understand.

Some of that is personality-oriented; but I also sense there is some degree of "staying in one's lane", especially when it comes to someone like myself who will be preaching as a deacon. I have both "intellectual" and "analytical" in my top five "Strengths Finder" traits, so a risk for me is to be too abstract in my homilies. I think simple, practical metaphors can go a long way towards mitigating that risk.


Mantova

For those who don't know, Lazio got knocked out of the Coppa Italia by a mid-table Serie B team yesterday in the preliminray round. They will now only be playing in Serie A for the next nine months.

I've been watching Lazio for twenty-two seasons, so I've seen some "clunkers"-- yesterday's game was rock bottom: the single-worst Lazio performance I've ever seen. They didn't get knocked out as in "dominated the game but got unlucky": no, they looked like a third-division side from the first minute to the last. A casual observer would have thought Mantova was the "bigger" team.

The stadium was almost completely empty, except for a section into which they hard corraled two thousand traveling supporters. All one could hear through the entire game were those fans; it felt like an away fixture. And that will be the case literally the entire season: no home games, so-to-speak.

The players themselves looked leggy and exhausted. Zaccagni didn't play a good game the entirety of last season, and he looked just as terrible yesterday. Coaching-wise, Gattuso reminds me of Igor Tudor: one of those coaches who focuses on motivation, but with almost zero emphasis on tactics.

Lazio couldn't even pass the ball properly without turning it over, and they were completely outclassed by a team where the most expensive player was worth two million EUR on the market-- I had checked them out on "Transfermarkt", and they reminded me of the old "NSC Stars", pre-Minnesota United era.

We are at serious risk of relegation this year. I'm not sure from where forty points will be acquired. Even teams like Udinese sound like terrifying opponents at this moment. We need a striker, and we need a central defender, ASAP.

I learned a new word last night: kenosis. I thought to myself, "Sounds sort of like gnostic"-- I was on the right track, as kenosis is also related to our understanding of Christ's divinity.

Catholics believe that Christ voluntarily took on the limitations of man, including birth, but without suffering the consequences of the Fall. Jesus had no Original Sin, in spite of the fact He became incarnate.

Before the Fall, Adam and Eve suffered no disease, no decay. But after the Fall, they were subject to predators, sickness, death, and the emotional and psychological loss of their former state. They keenly and acutely felt the tear in their relationship with God which their sin had created.

So while Jesus was man, He was more like Adam and Eve before the Fall; His nature wasn't fallen, so he was immune from decay and death. Additionally, there was no loss of relationship with the Father, given that Jesus Himself is one person in the Triune God.

Kenosis. What's also cool is that this understanding is compatible with the notion of the hypostasis.

I was also reading about today's Saints. Before imprisonment, Hippolytus sounds like he was some kind of Catholic Alex Jones-- I can just see him throwing chairs, "The devil will not win, I'm sick and tired of this crap!! Satan! Today I am declaring myself the anti-pope! Raaaaaugh!"

It has to be said, "Maximinus Thrax" sounds like some kind of character out of the "Mass Effect" series! Or some kind of pro-wrestler! I can see the t-shirts: "Mess with the Thrax, and you'll pay the tax."

Finally, the eagle-eyed among you may have noticed the new "Catholic Reading List" menu item above! My friends Sam and Jayda have been assembling reading list PDF files-- I used Copilot to OCR them and translate them to HTML. There's enough reading material on there for multiple lifetimes I think.

Be forewarned: there will possibly be a flurry of continued Frank Sheed posts over the coming days and weeks as I resume studying his material. Don't say you weren't cautioned!

In the section I read last night, he explained that we have our natural lives, and our supernatural lives. Our natural lives are our base state, while our supernatural lives give us capabilities above and beyond.

For example, in Myers-Briggs terms I am a very pronounced INTJ. I have taken and retaken the test probably two dozen times over twenty years, and have always gotten the same result. Note the first letter: "I". "I" is for introvert. The opposite pole is "E" for extrovert. I universally test over ninety percent "I" when answering the questions open-mindedly and honestly.

Naturally then, I am very shy and need significant recharge time after social engagements. When God asked me to enter the diaconate formation, I had a bit of a wrestling match with the Lord: "I literally can't do this-- it is beyond me in terms of capability."

This is because I was only taking my natural life into account. A previous boss of mine liked to say, "God doesn't call the equipped; He equips the called." And this is what happened: God's grace extended my capabilities via a supernatural life.

I have a very dear friend who was a NET minister. She said she didn't even know what town they were in, or what day of the week it was, or which church basement floor she was attempting to sleep on. Her natural self was one hundred percent spent physically, emotionally, and mentally. And yet, month after month she was able to pour herself out for the kids on the retreats. It felt like a miracle-- because it was. She told me, "It dawned on me one day that the strength was not coming from me; I had nothing left to give."

Think of Peter: he was a humble fisherman. How in the world could he have the incredible eloquence and ability to proclaim the Gospel message he demonstrated as the rock of the Church?

From a personal testimony side, during these TEC Retreats I have been participating in, I am going on four hours of sleep and am in a non-stop social setting for multiple consecutive days, yet am absolutely in my element; how? When I minister at funerals, I am surrounded by grieving family; when I was chairman of the Pastoral Council, I ran every meeting and made it a point to have 1-1 telephone check-ins with the members.

This was all made possible because God, through His sanctifying grace, was giving me supernatural capabilities to fulfill these functions. Imagine it like a bar chart: the bottom part is our natural life; the supplementary bar on top of that is our supernatural life.

Frank Sheed provides the metaphor of a jar containing cream. The cream is God's sanctifying grace. When Adam and Eve sinned by eating from the tree, the jar fell and got a crack in it. So, God needs to continually fill us with His grace due to the crack.

I mentioned this metaphor to my mother-in-law this morning, and it really worked for her. When I hear "Mike, you are broken" I take that as a logical statement: having a crack is a state of being broken-- so the language works for me. But for her, that language felt too personal: "Didn't God make me who I am? I'm not broken..."

The jar imagery gave her another way to look at it: "I get it now! And because of Original Sin, the crack will never disappear from me here on Earth-- but God's grace could at least potentially make the crack smaller over time as it operates on me. Then in heaven, the crack will be gone."

Taking the weekend to relax was hugely beneficial, I recommend it! Jesus often went off on His own for periods; as He modeled all things for us, so too did He demonstrate the importance of taking time for solitude and personal prayer with the Father.

Recently, I saw a short video clip of someone questioning Sacred Scripture, citing numerous quotes from the Old Testament to make the "God is cruel and insane"-style connection.

Just like how Paul tailored his message in his various letters, so too have God's interactions with humans been carefully-- perfectly, actually-- crafted to fulfill the giant love story arc that is His Providence. Jesus becoming incarnate in 4000 B.C. wouldn't have allowed for God to lay all of the foundation through prefigurement, the prophecies, and so forth. The Father had to pave the way for the Son.

In other words, it wasn't time yet.

This fellow raised the objection, "But God created the universe itself, so couldn't He have made it time? And why would He punish someone for a sin He already knew they would commit?"

An important thing to remember is that God loves us so much He gives us Free Will. By definition, love is something freely given. He could snap his fingers and make us robots who automatically "adore" Him-- but that isn't love. We get to choose, but our choices are ultimately baked into His plan, from before time began. The two concepts aren't mutually exclusive.

He freely provides His grace, mercy, and forgiveness to each and every one of us. And He will work through us in unique ways, just as He worked with humanity differently in ancient times versus today. But it is up to us to choose to have that relationship with Him.