So?

 The latest issue of The Pilot, the Archdiocesan Newspaper of Boston, has an article on immigration, that has me wondering, "So what?".  The article is Critical Points in Immigration History: From restriction to reform and back again, by Bishop Nicholas DiMarzio.  What I note is this statement: "the problem we are dealing with is a mythical replacement theory -- that the new immigration is a plan to replace the white race in America."  

So, what if the white race is replaced?  Most of us will be dead by the time, if ever, that would happen.  Personally, I see mixed marriages between races.  Again, so?  Maybe it's God's plan.  Then we wouldn't have race problems, would we?  We could then be prejudice against people that are left-handed, or have green eyes, or are bald, or......  I'm sure Satan will think of something else to cause division.

It's all so silly.

My Top 2025 Books

 These are my personal picks for the best reads of 2025.

Not in any particular order.

The Correspondent by Virginia Evans

American Girl by Wendy Walker

The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom

The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris

The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife by Anna Johnson

Deacon King Kong by James McBride

The Personal Librarian by Marie Benedict

James by Percival Everett

Listen to Him by David Rosage

Master Slave Husband and Wife by Ilon Woo

My average rating for 2025

4.4

Caught on Camera

 American Girl is a suspense full mystery thriller by Wendy Walker.  The main character is a seventeen year-old authistic girl, Charlie.  Her home like is complicated.  She has a loving mom, "Mama Bear type."  She has a cold to mild step dad and two young step brothers.  Her plans are to go to MIT.  She has the grades and is working to get the money in a sandwich shop.

Her coworkers have future plans too, and are her very close friends--soul mates.  Everyone helps each other and would defend to the death, each other, too.  One friend comes to work all bruised.  It's not from her devoted boyfriend.  It's from her senile grandmother.  She is working to get the money to put her grandmother in some sort of NICE assisted living facility.  Another friend is a rookie cop who has an obsession to find the hit-an-run driver who killed his father.

Charlie works for a crook who hides their revenue.  The story begins with the boss being killed.  Charlie is implicated because the security camera has her there at the scene.  She was hiding behind the counter.  She didn't do it, but she was there.  Who did it?  Whom is she protecting?

Will all Charlie's plans be destroyed?  Will the killer go after Charlie?  This story is a nail biter.

Epistle

 One of my "cloistered brothers" asked me if I knew what an "epistle" was.  It's a letter, especially the letters St. Paul wrote from prison.

Nope, he said.

An epistle is the wife of an apostle.

Skinning a Cat

 There is an expression that exercises my mind, way too often.  "There's more than one way to skin a cat."  Why this expression comes to mind is a mystery because--well think about it.  Skinning anything is abhorrent.  Never mind a cat!

Anyway, why I thought of this expression, now, is because I went to order a book on Amazon and it told me that the book couldn't be sent to my Kindle--for some reason, or other.  So, I took my Kindle and ordered it from my Kindle, itself!  See, there's more than one way to skin a cat.

The book is How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith by Bishop Mariann Budde.  She was the minister who presided over the inaugural religious ceremony of President Trump.  She was brave enough to preach to him, knowing that he thought the opposite of what she expounded.  I thought she was acting exactly like Jesus preaching to the Pharisees.  Not only did I buy her book, I signed up for her workshop--to be brave.  

"The people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings, who labor in poultry farms and meatpacking plants, who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shifts in hospitals -- they may not be citizens or have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurdwaras, and temples."

Tiene cojones

Hooked

 Chloe Dalton's Raising Hare is about nurturing a hare. Chloe came across it when it was only a leveret. She brought it home and fell in love with it. She describes every minutia: coloring, noises, eating habits, even it's poop.

About half of it kept my interest. I've never read anything like it. But then it got boring. Dalton became obsessed with detail.

Bumping into Each Other

It's an easy and good read.  

Lost Opportunity

 Back in the day, we elementary school children would walk home, in what was called "patrol lines."  Everyone walked two by two, led by a sixth grader in front, and one in the back.  I was in the second or third grade, when I was surprised, shocked, appalled even, to see my grandmother walking towards us.  And she didn't walk around us; she walked through us.

I looked away and pretended I didn't see her.

That occasion has bothered me for over seventy years.

I know exactly why I did that. I was embarrassed by her appearance. 

This is a photo honoring my great aunt, on her 80's birthday.  Her sister, my grandmother, was in her 80's also, as was my Meme.  Everyone in their 80's was wearing a corsage.  

I think you can see what I am talking about.  The people in the photo are, left to right: my mother, Grandma, Auntie, Meme, and lastly is my mother's sister, my aunt, Bernice.

Do you see a difference in outward appearance in the octogenarians?  Grandma and Auntie are from the old country.  Look at their hair.  Look at Meme.  Meme has a fashionably short coif.  Grandma and Auntie had never cut their hair in their lives.  They always, always, always, wore it the same way--day in and day out, whether mucking out the barn, or going to church, or attending a celebratory party for themselves. Their hair was always pulled back into a bun, worn low on the neck.

Also, their clothes.  They always wore house dresses that reached below their knees, sensible shoes that offered ankle support, and stockings.  These stockings weren't attached to garters but rather rolled up to the knees.  Since their dresses reached below their knees, you couldn't see that stocking roll, until they sat down.  Of course, you can't see that in this photo.  You can see that they are still wearing house dresses, albeit fancy ones.  But still housedresses, especially compared to Meme, who is wearing a suit.

Now here is my seven/eight-year-old self, seeing my embarrassing grandmother walking towards my friends and me.  Can you see why I pretended not to see her?

Do you also see why I have been ashamed of myself for seventy-odd years?  I have lived with regret for my unfortunate reaction. Deservedly so!

Grandma, I love you and I am so-so sorry.

Travel with Jesus

Jesus never asked us to pray well.  He asked us to pray without ceasing.  So don't stop because your mind is distracted.  Go back to Him.

Don't think, I can't keep my mind on Jesus.  Keep turning back to Him.  Persevere.  

Question From Prison

 Father Bob's homily was different from my post of a few days ago.  Matthew 11: 2-11  Father Bob said that the Baptist of course he knew who Jesus was.  He was using a technique to get his followers to go see Jesus.

What do you think?

I still think the Baptist doubted.  And anyone who doesn't think so, has never been in prison, or in prison ministry.  Prison is a traumatic experience.  It could make you doubt anything. Matthew's Gospel gives everyone who has ever doubted, hope. 

 

Doubt

 It always bothered me that when John the Baptist was in prison, he sent his disciples to ask Jesus if He were the Messiah.

Doesn't John know?  Whom did he think he was baptizing?

Then it occurred to me; he had doubts.  John is in prison.  Lots of time to think in prison.  John was all "fire and brimstone."  Wouldn't the Messiah also be full of fire, in order to overthrow the Romans?  But Jesus wasn't like that.  He was gentle and preached love.

Jesus wasn't what John was expecting.  Maybe Jesus was just a prophet, an up-an-coming rabbi, or as they say in today's lingo--a popular influencer.

Jesus isn't those things.  He gave the blind sight, the lame walking ability, lepers were cleansed, the deaf had hearing, and He even raised the dead.  Don't doubt John.

Wikimedia Commons

Conversing

 Remember a few posts ago, my "cloistered brother," Gordon, asked a question that has been on my mind, ever since.  "When you pray, what do you expect to happen?"

Today, I realized that prayer is a conversation between God and myself, which means that I don't expect anything to happen, no more than I would expect something to happen in any conversation.

What a dummy I am!  Most of the time, I'm not asking God for anything.  I am talking (praying) to Him.

Words that Function Performatively

 When a cop says, "You're under arrest."  You are indeed, under arrest.

When the umpire says, "You're out."  There's no use arguing, you're out.

These are indeed examples of words that mean what they say.  There are verbal expressions that definitely mean what they say.

Wouldn't that be even more so when Jesus Christ utters words?  

In Genesis we hear that creation occurred through divine speech, "God said, 'Let there be light' and there was light...God said, 'Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.' And it happened.  

God is not describing, His words are performing.  This is the case with Jesus. "And the Word became flesh and lived among us."  John 1: 14  Think of Jesus' healings.  He speaks and the cure happens.  Again and again, Jesus' words are shown to be efficacious in producing what they pronounce.

The night before He died, Jesus performed His most important words, "Take, eat; this is my body...drink...for this is my blood..." Matt 26: 26-28  Jesus words are producing what they pronounce.

Thoughts While Walking in the Cold

 Twenty degrees below freezing is just a number until you are walking in it.  I should say trudging through it.

My labored breathing roars forth clouds of vapor.  My forehead aches because the wind is meanspirited.  I'd tell the wind to quit, but the teeth in my mouth are so cold they hurt.

My boots stamp out a petulant response.  I clap my mittened hands for winter's performance of brutal strength and also beauty.

Beauty?

Yes, beauty because my eyes aren't frozen shut.  I can see the diamond glitter sparkling on the branches and tips of grass. And the sun flashes sharp stabs of color in shapes through the trees, in the woods.  Rays of light, here and there, are accompanied by sound or I dare to say music, for the grass crunches when I step and the ice in the puddles crash like cymbals, in this winter orchestra of cold.

Not an orchestra, like in symphony hall.  Rather more like a marching band in the parade of winter.  It's showing off all its delights in a performance of twenty degrees below freezing.

The Effects of Prayer

 Thinking of yesterday's blog post regarding expectations when we pray, I read this quote, this morning, by St. Peter of Alcantara.

          In prayer the soul is purified from sin, charity is nurtured,
          faith takes root, hope is strengthened, the spirit gladdened.
          In prayer the soul melts into tenderness, the heart is puri-
          fied, the truth reveals itself, temptation is overcome, sad-
          ness is put to flight.  In prayer, the senses are renewed,
          lukewarmness vanishes, failing virtue it reinvigorated,
          the rust of vices is scoured away; and in the exchange,
          there come forth living sparks, blazing desires of
          heaven, in which the flame of divine love burns.

This satisfies me, but I don't think Gordon will accept this explanation.

Expectations

 The "cloistered brothers" are reading Simone Weil's Waiting for God. A discussion arose on prayer.  Gordon, does believe in God, but not prayer.  He figures that God is all knowing, so He knows what is going to happen, so what's the use of prayer.  He challenged the group with the question, "So what do you expect to happen?"  

This question has been bouncing back and forth, inside my head.  What do I expect to happen when I pray?  Today is two days removed from the question, and I've come to the conclusion that what I expect and what I hope are two different answers.

I hope that God will do what I want.  I expect that I will understand what God is doing.  I expect that my prayer will give me wisdom and understanding and patience to see God's plans.

I also expect that more understanding will come, in time.  I also expect that I will have an answer for Gordon, that will satisfy him.

An Eschatological Reality

 

Lectio:                                  Isaiah 2:1-5

This is what Isaiah, son of Amoz,
saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.
In days to come,
the mountain of the LORD's house
shall be established as the highest mountain
and raised above the hills.
All nations shall stream toward it;
many peoples shall come and say:
"Come, let us climb the LORD's mountain,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may instruct us in his ways,
and we may walk in his paths."
For from Zion shall go forth instruction,
and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
and impose terms on many peoples.
They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
one nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again.
O house of Jacob, come,
let us walk in the light of the Lord!

STUDIUM:

Isaiah wrote this during the Babylonian Exile, 586 BC-539 BC.  Jerusalem was destroyed and Isaiah calling the people back, was confusing.  To what?  Rubble?  But Isaiah was talking about the days to come.  The Lord promised to provide. He always does, even now.  Israel will come to know that Jerusalem will become great, again.  It will be an example to all people to walk in God's promises, until the end of time.

MEDITATIO:

Reading about the devastation of Jerusalem, my mind pictures Gaza and Ukraine--countries that currently have been destroyed. These verses promise restoration.  There's a catch: the people must strive to do God's will.  
       So?  Weren't they doing God's will before the war?  Isaiah's Jerusalem is not today's Israel.  Isaiah is speaking generally, for all time.  Disasters come and go but we must trust in God.

ORATIO:

Lord, I hope in this prophesy.  You turn bad into good.  May these wars and bad things end and good come forth.

CONTEMPLATIO:

The world and its problem will pass.  God is forever.

My Emmaus Journey

 Not that I completely grasp why God the Father allowed His Son to die such a horrific death, but I am starting to get a handle on why. Firstly, I recognize that my twenty-first century sensibilities are far removed from earlier centuries—-beginnings of mankind. I also know that when I want to visit someone I always bring a gift. How and why we do this is unknown but it’s natural and customary. 

Probably early man wanted to visit/communicate with God, or his gods, he would offer a gift. In times of dire need, ei, volcanic eruption, man would need to offer something very valuable.  Throwing a child in the volcano became acceptable. 

Barbaric to us in the twenty-first century, but is it?  God asked Abraham to kill his son, Isaac. Jonah was thrown in the sea to satisfy the storm gods.

Then there’s Jesus.

!!!!

Is that why one of His titles is Lamb of God?

Sacred Words

 This is My Body by Bishop Robert Barron mentions Ita Missa Est as an apostolic commission.  Ita Missa Est is Latin for Go the Mass is ended.  Children and new Catholics always giggle at this, thinking we are being kicked out.  Au contraire, re-think.  We Catholics believe that our church is the church Jesus commissioned.  He told Peter that He would build a church upon him.  Catholics believe that is us.  So, we are worshipping as Jesus intended.  Hence, we are carrying on the work of the Apostles.

Hence, when the priest sends us out to carry on what we have heard, seen, and tasted, at Mass, we are to go out and tell everyone the Good News about Jesus.  We, the people are being sent out, as Jesus sent out His Apostles.

If you meditate on "Go the Mass is ended," you should come to the conclusion that these words are as important as the words "Take this and eat of it, for this is My Body...this is My Blood."

St. Stephen Memorialized

Since I am reading this on a radio show, which will be aired next month, in December, I looked over different December themes.  Naturally, Christmas themes prevailed.  However, what caught my eye was the Grateful Dead's song St. Stephen.

https://youtu.be/niUWikozXYo?si=AwBxVe8K73sH2OOw 

St. Stephen's feast day is December 26, which is why it was listed as a Christmas song.  St. Stephen is honored as the first Christian martyr.  After Jesus was killed, His followers continued His preaching.  St. Stephen was a follower of Jesus, and he was not too prudent regarding his audience's receptivity to his message.  Telling an audience of Jews, that they killed their Messiah, was not received well.  That was not wise.  Consequently, Stephen was stoned to death--hence he is considered the first Christian martyr.  Before he died, as he was being stoned, he is known to have said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit and Lord, do not hold this sin against them."

See.  This is why he is remembered as the first Christian martyr.  Now one way to cement a person and event in people's minds and hearts, is to put the event in a song; the Grateful Dead's St. Stephen, is an example.  Although Robert Hunter's lyrics don't explicitly explain who St. Stephen was, the listener does understand that St. Stephen was a visionary who faced persecution.

Googling who and why St. Stephen was considered under Christmas themes, I learned who he was and why he has a feast day.  Martyrdom has a way of being noted as going above and beyond one's job. And the Grateful Dead's song wasn't the only song memorializing St. Stephen.  The nineteenth century has two more songs.

There is the hymn, St. Stephen was a Holy Man.

Read lyrics.

          https://youtu.be/Sqy2Mau1vTQ?si=F1YWHnuA2-lSQvj8  

The other song isn't about St. Stephen but rather a Bohemian King who was assassinated--think how Stephen died. The lyrics tell the story.  In fact, I remember this song and as a child and we sang it as a Christmas Carol.

Read lyrics.

https://youtu.be/uB6WWulhCVs?si=X24LisV9d2uc_8Oo   

Merry Christmas and have a good St. Stephen's Day.

The 51st State

 Louise Penny's latest novel, The Black Wolf is a thriller.  It is exciting.  It's a spy story.  Inspector Gamache frequently travels home to Three Pines, to recharge, and that's nice.  But the story takes place between the governments of Canada and the US.

It's uncanny how prescient Louise Penny is.  She wrote this novel before 2025, and the story line revolves around current problems.  We just had a humongous fire in Canada that affected the US.  Also, for years, there has been a water problem.  Rivers are drying up and municipalities have been conserving water in the summer, for years.

The plot is to cause tragedy to strike, to cause panic, to use social media to affect people's minds to turn to blame the other country.  Since the US needs water and Canada has an abundance, why not make it our 51st state?  The Canadian fires are sending ash and other pollutants over the border--are they doing it on purpose?

My criticism is there are too many twists, and bad guys, and all too convenient Deus Machina.  It's too, too much and too many.  I found it hard to follow the bad guys.  I also found it hard to believe how the characters were rescued--again and again, at the last moment.

But hey, it's a story, right?  It's a good story.

Nghia Vy's Deportation

 Nghia Vy is a former "cloistered brother" and has been free for 17 years.  During that time, he went to school to be a dog groomer and also worked for Sister Ruth in the Hope Chest.  That is, until he got a letter from ICE.  The following poem speaks what happened.

Nghia Vy's Deportation

Time stays the same

       as usual--always.

Nghia helping customers

       find their treasures

Nghia who trained our dogs

       to sit and stay.

Nghia who prayed rosaries

      for all--far and near

Nghia who said "blessed,"

      instead of "happy"

Nghia who spread love,

     not hate and fear.

Nghia who paid taxes

     and obeyed laws.

Then came the letter from ICE

    to appear for a hearing.

Fear took over our thoughts

    suddenly--abruptly.

Passed from state to state,

     from prison to prison.

Nghia was stolen away.

     Unfair!  A good man!

Guantanamo, Panama, Yemen:

     deportation somewhere.

Vietnam the final destination.

     Due process be damned!

Last week we learned

     Nghia is dead.

John Lateran

 November 9th in the Catholic Church is the feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica.  This is celebrated as an important feast because it is the first basilica in Rome.  A basilica is a church that is built to hold the most people, as opposed to chapel, shrine, church, cathedral and then basilica.  

Who is John Lateran?  The land the basilica is on, once had the Laterani family's palace there.  I think it is nice that the family's name is carried on.

Why John?  The answer is not one John, but two.  The name refers to John the Baptist and John the Gospel writer.

That's why the church considers the dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica worthy to be celebrated.

Dirty Laundry

 Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan is a Christmas story set in Ireland, in the 1990's.  The story revolves around Bill Furlong.  The reader learns about his upbringing, which made him the good man he is revealed to be, in the end.

He owns a business delivering fuel.  In the process of his work, he delivers to a convent, which concerns him.  This convent takes in unwed mothers and by the look of the mothers, they aren't treated very well.  This is the story of the Magdalene Laundries.  

Bill finds a girl hiding and brings her home with him.  That's the end of the story.  It is fiction but I would have liked to know how Bill's family accepted the girl.  What became of her?

Remembering a Failure

 Back when I was teaching Sunday school to teens, I planned a lesson on saints.  The class was at 7:00 pm.  My plan was to take the class over to the church and explain each of the stained glass windows.  I thought it important that people should know their own parish church.

Arrangements were made, e.g., doors unlocked, lights on, etc. I even requested parents to come to help guide the students across the busy intersection, getting to the church.
           Picture this:
                   The entire class, plus chaperones, entering the church
                    We all gather in the middle of the aisle
                   We look around us towards the tall windows
          What do we see?
                   Pitch black, unlit, darkness!!! :-( 
                   Stained glass windows only show up in sunlight!!
This through me for a loop.  There went 99% of my lesson plan.  Thank God, I remembered this.  Now, that I am preparing to bring my OCIA class for a tour of the church, I won't spend much time on the windows. There are many other features in our beautiful church to talk about--tabernacle, sanctuary, candles, fonts, pictures, etc.  

Satan is known as a destroyer, destructor--just a wicked, miserable creature.

Our Lady of Succour

 Start praying for the victims of hurricaine Melissa.   https://www.foxweather.com/weather-news/hurricane-melissa-jamaica-haiti-cuba-dominican-republic-caribbean-atlantic#google_vignette

Our Lady of Prompt Succor,
ever Virgin Mother of Jesus Christ our Lord and God,
you are most powerful against the enemy of our salvation. The divine promise of a Redeemer was announced right after the sin of our first parents; and you, through your Divine Son, crushed the serpent’s head.

Hasten, then, to our help and deliver us from the deceits of Satan. Intercede for us with Jesus that we may always accept God’s graces and be found faithful to Him in our particular states of life.

As you once saved our beloved city from ravaging flames and our country from an invading army, have pity on us and obtain for us protection from hurricanes and all other disasters.

(Silent pause for individual petitions.)

Assist us in the many trials which beset our path through life. Watch over the Church and the Pope as they uphold with total fidelity the purity of faith and morals against unremitting opposition.

Be to us truly Our Lady of Prompt Succor now and especially at the hour of our death, that we may gain everlasting life through the merits of Jesus Christ who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end.

Our Lady of Prompt Succor, hasten to help us!

Amen.

BFsF

 It was a time of giggles--high school, hip huggers, bell bottoms, saddle shoes, hair flipped, and getting drivers' licenses.  Once you turned 16, the day you got your driver's license, you went and picked up your friends to go for a ride, usually to the beach.

Not so today.  Drivers under 18, can't drive without an adult.  Boo Hoo!  That takes all the fun out of it.  You can't drive your own car to school--how humiliating!

Those were the good memories: cars filled with laughter, weekends with friends--hopes shared and dreams expressed, before high school graduation scattered us all.

How that all happened is more or less a blur.  Boyfriends, graduations, finances, new friends, jobs, marriages, baby showers, children...whew!  What happened?

I remember a class reunion, I think.  I remember Christmas cards with pictures and quick notes, to keep in touch.  Would we recognize each other if we met now?  I guess so, actually, I know so, thanks to Facebook.  We've reconnected.

Once we pass the lined faces, laugh wrinkles, grey and white hair, there you are, and you, and you... The gang's all here.

Really, just the same.  Maybe better than before.  The love and support are still there.  The sparkle in our eyes still blink out.  Blinking an invitation, "Let's go for a ride.  Let's go to the beach."

Litany for our Nation

 

Litany for America

Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.

Christ hear us.	Christ graciously hear us.
God, the Father of Heaven,	have mercy on us.
God, the Son, redeemer of the world,	have mercy on us.
God, the Holy Spirit,	have mercy on us.
Holy Trinity, one God,	have mercy on us.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,	pray for us.
Holy Mary, Immaculate Conception,	pray for us.
Holy Mary, Patroness of the United States,	pray for us.
Holy Mary, Patroness of the Americas,	pray for us.
St. Isaac Jogues,	pray for us.
St. René Goupil,	pray for us.
St. Jean de Lalande,	pray for us.
St. Kateri Tekakwitha,	pray for us.
St. Elizabeth Ann Seton,	pray for us.
St. Francis Cabrini,	pray for us
St. John Neumann,	pray for us
St. Rose-Philippine Duchense,	pray for us
St. Anne-Thérèse Guérin,	pray for us.
Father Damien,	pray for us.
St Katherine Mary Drexel,	pray for us.
St. Marianne Cope,	pray for us.
Fra Junipero Serra	, pray for us.
All you Saints and Blesseds of the United States,	pray for us.
Lord Jesus, You proclaimed Yourself the Truth,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From a false understanding of Christopher Columbus,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From the belief that the Catholic Church is anti-democratic,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the belief that the United States was not founded on Christian principles,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From the belief that traditional Christians cannot be loyal citizens,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the scourge of revisionist historians,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the attack on religious freedom,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From violent anti-intellectualism,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the attack on Western Civilization,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the materialistic philosophy,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From heretical theologians,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From historical illiteracy,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From racism, real and imagined,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From cowardly Cardinals, Archbishops, & Bishops,	deliver us, Oh God of Truth.
From the human sacrifice of the unborn,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From the human sacrifice of the newly born,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From the human sacrifice of the feeble,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From the human sacrifice of the sick and elderly,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From sexual immorality and child trafficking,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From heterodox Catholic politicians,	deliver us, O God of Truth.
From corrupt politicians,	deliver us, O God of Truth.

 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus, the God who is Truth.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. 

Jesus, You came to bring deliverance to the captive.	Deliver us, O Lord.
From our national demonic infestation,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of victimhood,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of socialism,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of violence,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of anarchy,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of atheism,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of irreligion,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of impurity,	deliver us, O Lord.
From spirits of Radical Islam,	deliver us, O Lord
From all spirits who would personally torment us,	deliver us, O Lord.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus, our Deliverer.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. 

 

Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,	spare us O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,	graciously hear us, O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,	have mercy on us.

Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.

Christ hear us.

Christ graciously hear us.

 

St. Michael, the Archangel….

Our Father . . . .
Hail Mary . . . .

 

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