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Every year on November 1, All Saints Day, I remember Sacred Heart cemetery in the town I grew up in.
I have a theory: there was an 11th commandment that fell off the tablets.
The perfect definition of a deacon: "a glorified butler."
The fact is, lots of good things have happened in my life because people I never knew filed their 1040's.
This, in essence, is what we whisper in the ear of anyone who comes to be baptized: "You are God's beloved." Those are the first words we hear. That is who we are.
Why do we sometimes choose one part of ourselves over another - as if active and passive resistance, love and anger are opposites?
Nonviolent resistance emerged as the technique of the movement, while love stood as the regulating idea. In other words, Christ furnished the spirit and motivation, while Ghandi furnished the method.
So many things are done easily the moment you can do them at all. But till then, simply impossible, like learning to swim.
How often have I forgotten to acknowledge God - the real leader of my life - and how often have I had to pay the price for my neglect?
This is the season of the cradle, not the cross, but we need the cross now. The cradle is bathed in too much light from Star and Angel. Radiant beams only hurt our eyes, which have recently become unwillingly accustomed to deepest dark. For now, we need the cover of night.