Arise, envious sun, and kill the fair moon...

I really need to stop doing this; it happens so often now that I don't even realise until it's too late. Or, rather, too early. What I mean is this. It's now sometime after 3 am and I really only thought that it was almost-midnight. I must say, though, that this is the first time in several years that such has happened for the reason it has tonight; namely, that I got lost on the internet. Usually, it's because I'm in a Chapel somewhere, or at SBG, talking with Fr Martin and Br Gilbert.

I say that I need to stop doing this, but perhaps I just need to adopt a nocturnal lifestyle.
Or a semi-nocturnal one.
I could do "all-nighters" on Friday, Saturday and Sunday (or at least the latter two) and spend Monday recovering, in order to function well on Tuesdays.

It's when my mind is overtired that I stop filtering my thoughts and I believe that such a lack of filter is probably good for me to some extent. I don't know if everyone habitually stops their trains of thought when they get close to any topic that causes them discomfort or pain; I don't even know if anyone else does it. I know that I over do it.

You see, it is common  place for me to chose not to think about a certain topic because my inability to not-feel about it is diminished. Or, not diminished so much as nonexistent. And feeling is dangerous.

And I'm writing in sentence fragments.

Even thinking about that fact that I actively chose to not-feel about certain things is a train of thought I usually halt as soon as I am able. Such thought is too dangerous because it comes much too close to actually feeling.

Related to feelings:
I think a large portion of the reason I make friends with guys so much easier than with girls (have I ever wondered about that 'out loud' on this blog before?) is because guys typically show their feelings less. It is way easier for me to talk about abstract concepts than it is for me to talk about practical ways of doing things. However, the difference between the two types of conversation (in the order of difficulty) is almost minuscule when compared to the difference between practical-type conversations and those which revolve around feelings and emotions. (If such an occasion ever occurs, I tend to emote, rather than feel because emoting is further removed from my self.)

Yeah, so, I'm not comfortable with myself; I ought to be and I'm not. I ought to be because my Holy Guardian Angel is and he is an immediate expression of God's Love [x] and, since God is Love (1 Jn 4:8,) my Angel is an immediate expression of God's Self.

That last sentence is an immediate expression of my ability to write my best theology papers at this time of whichever day it is.

Anyway; if God is comfortable with me - or at the very least, deigns to be with me and provide for my every need, and many of my wants - I ought to be comfortable with myself. Yet, here I go again: I am taking a subject which ought to transform the way I live, act, think and (frankly) feel and turning it into an intellectual exercise.

Back to the being-friends-with-guys thing.
Guys don't typically need to have "How do you feel about that?" conversations all that often, at least when compared to girls. Moreover, when girls aren't like that, they are typically holding a "This is how I felt about it:" conversation. I dislike the first and find the second one draining.
Typically, too, guys seem better at comfortable silences wherein I can allow my mind to wander to not-feeling.

Further, although I don't think that me having a larger number of guy-friends than the other is problematic per se, I do believe that I need to learn to be more comfortable around other women.

There are, of course, a few notable exceptions to both parts of this 'rule,' none of whom I will name but all of whom I hope will both recognise themselves and tell me such.



I am not going to pretend that this post has been entirely coherent, but thus endeth the lesson.

Imagine

that you know who you want to marry;
that you desire nothing else.

But that you can't marry him just yet.

And then, as part of your waiting, imagine that you're plagued with thoughts as to whether he really wants you to marry him.

Welcome to my life.


Oh Sacred Heart, draw me closer to Yourself.
Purify me; purify my desires.
Allow me to submit myself entirely to You;
To Your Will.
Amen.

Jesus,

I am so far away right now.
 How can I get back?
Confession.
Yeah, but it's so hard.
"So was the Cross," I hear you say.
And I know that you're right.
Oh, my Lord, be my Lord.
Help me.
 Oh Lord, You are my only joy; give me again the joy of your help.
 In the secret of my heart, teach me wisdom
That I may teach this transgressor Your ways
And that I may return to You.
See: in guilt I was born, a sinner was I conceived.
Yet - oh, my God! - You washed me from my guilt and cleansed me from my sin!
In the saving Water, You cleansed me and gave me to drink from that spring of Eternal Life.
But, my Jesus, I have rejected You.
 I have turned aside to the right and the left.
 Depart from me, Oh Lord, for I am a sinner.
Yet, be gracious and do not hide Your Face.
Give me the Actual Grace to get back, please.
Please, Jesus. I want to;
I desire You.
You are enough for me;
I ask for nothing more.

The Literal Wealth of the Catholic Church

I was asked over on my tumblr the follow question. My response is posted below.

Let me tell you a story.
There once was this Italian guy called Lorenzo (or, in English, Lawrence) who lived in Rome and happened to be a Catholic. Now, this was back in the day when it was unpopular to be Catholic - much less a practicing one - in Rome. What was more, he worked for the Church.
The dude in charge of Rome at the time, a man called Valerian demanded that Lorenzo bring him all the riches of the Church - something he’d been made aware that our friend could do for him. He also demanded that Lorenzo give up the True Faith or die in the same way that seven of his friends did four days before.
So Lorenzo rocked up for his execution accompanied by all of Rome’s poor, crippled, diseased, blind and undignified people.

Another story for you: there once was this great King who decided to visit is subjects. He wasn’t particularly well received, so they did what they could to send him away.
However, in three days, he returned again and has never left his people since.
He is the source and summit of their life.
He dwells in his tent in every one of his palaces on Earth at all times.
His name means God-will-save and he is called God-with-us.
You probably know him as Jesus.
His dwelling place is usually called a Tabernacle and it is here that He reposes, loving His people and waiting for their love so that He can shower on them gifts that we call graces.
The poor that St Lawrence brought to the Emperor Valerian are the Face of Christ, who said that in being kind to the poor, the outcast and the downtrodden, we were being kind to Him: “Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me.” (source)
The Eucharist and the least among us are the literal wealth of the Catholic Church.

Do they weigh on my conscience? Yes.
I do not have a great love for either of them, though I very much desire to.
I have a feeling, anon, that what you meant was “Does the material wealth of the Catholic Church weigh on your conscience?”
I’ve a question for you in return. And the answer to that question.
Do you know what the entire art collection of the Holy See is insured for?
It’s not.
Do you know how much the Vatican values each of the art pieces for accounting purposes?
One Euro.
The value of the art and architecture of the Catholic Church is not found in it’s material worth. It is found in its ability to lead people to God, and to worship Him.
tl;dr
The literal wealth of the Catholic Church is Christ Himself.
The material wealth of the Church only has value insofar as it points to the first.