Bl Terence Albert O'Brien, O.P.

Frist noticed on my twitter feed . . . but I forgot from whom.  Sorry.


October 30th is the feast of Blessed Terence Albert O'Brien: Irish nobleman, Dominican friar, priest, Prior of Limerick, Provincial of Ireland, Bishop of Emly, supporter of the Confederation of Kilkenny, and martyr—executed by the Protestant Roundheads on this day in 1651.

More here.

Hotter Than the Hinges of Hell

Well, of course, I don't actually know whether hell has hinges or whether the weather hereabouts is hotter than the said hinges.  But 99° fahrenheit is exceedingly warm.  And if my grandfather were here he would definitely say it was hotter than the hinges of hell.

Not being English I didn't go out in the midday sun in the event you were wondering.  Sloshed some water on the garden this morning and otherwise stayed indoors and thanked God and all His blessed saints for air-conditioning.

It's supposed to be the same again tomorrow.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.   And so on until Monday.

And, yes, this whole tedious weather report is all just an excuse to post that Noel Coward clip.

Found While Looking for Something Else

The "How-to-Geek" folks came up with this one.   No citation, other than the main page, as it only appears in their newsletter and in today's front page of their website.

Link rot, finding that a URL leads nowhere, is frustrating enough when you’re casually browsing, but it’s proving to be a serious problem in legal affairs. A Harvard study found that approximately 50 percent of the URLs cited in U.S. Supreme Court cases are already invalid.

In the unlikely event you're reading this on 20 OCT 2019 you'll find the quote on their front page.  By tomorrow . . . probably not.  Another broken link.  And this isn't even a supreme court case.

Sunday the 18th after Trinity and the 19th after Pentecost

This was our processional this morning.  Very familiar tune but it took almost the whole first stanza before it registered:  it's the old Czarist national anthem.   Different words, of course, and not in English for a start.  But what a delight for an unreconstructed monarchist.  Da Zdra'stvuyet Tsar!

Someone also recorded a bit of our choir singing the Kyrie and Gloria.   Somewhere in that polyphonic mix is my dulcet baritone masquerading as a bass.  Not quite sure how to imbed Soundcloud files so let us hope that whatever I'm about to post below is correct.




By George, I think I've got it.

And finally the Sunday collect, one that goes right to the heart of the matter

LORD, we beseech thee, grant thy people grace to withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil: and with pure hearts and minds to follow thee the only God; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Saint John Henry Cardinal Newman

He was canonized last Saturday, you know.  He's the patron of our parish and Facebook is so full of stories and pictures of related ceremonies that it hadn't occurred to me that The Inn failed to mention it.

So herewith the remedy for that omission.   Since it isn't all that widely known that St John Henry was no fan of people tinkering with the sacred liturgy, it might be worthwhile to remedy that too with this excerpt from one of his "Parochial and Plain Sermons" from his Anglican days:

In these times especially, we should be on our guard against those who hope, by inducing us to lay aside our forms, at length to make us lay aside our Christian hope altogether. This is why the Church itself is attacked, because it is the living form, the visible body of religion; and shrewd men know that when it goes, religion will go too. This is why they rail at so many usages as superstitious; or propose alterations and changes, a measure especially calculated to shake the faith of the multitude. Recollect, then, that things indifferent in themselves become important to us when we are used to them. The services and ordinances of the Church are the outward form in which religion has been for ages represented to the world, and has ever been known to us. Places consecrated to God's honour, clergy carefully set apart for His service, the Lord's-day piously observed, the public forms of prayer, the decencies of worship, these things, viewed as a whole, are sacred relatively to us, even if they were not, as they are, divinely sanctioned. Rites which the Church has appointed, and with reason,—for the Church's authority is from Christ,—being long used, cannot be disused without harm to our souls. Confirmation, for instance, may be argued against, and undervalued; but surely no one who in the common run of men wilfully resists the Ordinance, but will thereby be visibly a worse Christian than he otherwise would have been. He will find (or rather others will find for him, for he will scarcely know it himself), that he has declined in faith, humility, devotional feeling, reverence, and sobriety. And so in the case of all other forms, even the least binding in themselves, it continually happens that a speculative improvement is a practical folly, and the wise are taken in their own craftiness. 

Therefore, when profane persons scoff at our forms, let us argue with ourselves thus—and it is an argument which all men, learned or unlearned, can enter into: "These forms, even were they of mere human origin (which learned men say is not the case, but even if they were), are at least of as spiritual and edifying a character as the rites of Judaism. Yet Christ and His Apostles did not even suffer these latter to be irreverently treated or suddenly discarded. Much less may we suffer it in the case of our own; lest, stripping off from us the badges of our profession, we forget there is a faith for us to maintain, and a world of sinners to be eschewed."

For more on Saint John Henry, this looks promising.  (I phrase it that way for a reason, as I haven't seen the video yet or taken the course.)

15 October: In festo S Teresiæ Virginis, Matris Nostræ

Dear herald of our King!
Thou didst Thy home in childhood leave,
Intending to barbaric lands
Christ or thy blood to give. 

But thee a sweeter death awaits;
A nobler fate is thine;
Wounded by point of heavenly dart,
To die of love divine. 

Virgin of perfect charity!
Our souls wit love inspire;
And save the nations of thy charge
From everlasting fire. 

Praise to the Father, with the Son,
And Holy Spirit be;
Three in One
Through all eternity.
Amen.

--1st Vespers hymn for the feast of S Teresa of Avila
   in the Stanbrook Abbey translation.

Sancta Mater Teresia, respice de cælo, et vide,
et visita vineam istam et perfice eam, quam     
plantavit dextera tua!
-Ad. Bened.

Discovering Columbus

I guess today is still Columbus Day, isn't it?   Our Masters who decree these things haven't changed it to National Aztec Day or something have they?

It used to be October the twelfth.  And now it's, well, today: a Monday determined by some federally enacted formula.

But to the point.   If you've a mind to read something on Christopher Columbus other than the approved rash judgement, calumny, and detraction try this by the redoubtable Solange Hertz.

About as politically incorrect as you're going to find, God bless her.

All About the Angels in 5 Minutes

Well, maybe not all.

A lot, anyway.

Courtesy of the FSSP here.

(Because it's the feast of the Holy Guardian Angels.  That's why.)

The Battle Eve of the Brigade

The mess-tent is full, and the glasses are set,
And the gallant Count Thomond is president yet;
The vet'ran stands, like an uplifted lance,
Crying - 'Comrades, a health to the monarch of France!'
With bumpers and cheers they have done as he bade,
For King Louis is loved by the Irish Brigade. 

'A health to King James,' and they bent as they quaffed,
'Here's to George the Elector,' and fiercely they laughed,
'Good luck to the girls we wooed long ago,
Where Shannon and Barrow and Blackwater flow; '
'God prosper Old Ireland,'-you'd think them afraid,
So pale grew the chiefs of the Irish Brigade. 

'But, surely, that light cannot come from our lamp,
And that noise - are they all getting drunk in the camp? '
'Hurrah! boys, the morning of battle is come,
And the générale's beating on many a drum.'
So they rush from the revel to join the parade:
For the van is the right of the Irish Brigade. 

They fought as they revelled, fast, fiery, and true,
And, though victors, they left on the field not a few;
And they who survived fought and drank as of yore,
But the land of their heart's hope they never saw more;
For in far foreign fields, from Dunkirk to Belgrade,
Lie the soldiers and chiefs of the Irish Brigade.

Thomas Osborne Davis