The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom is a book club recommendation. This book will appeal to those who love historical fiction, family relationships, and tense drama. It can be a page turner. The setting is the South around 1800. Lavinia's family was on route to America from Ireland. Her parents die and Lavinia and her brother are indentured to different people to pay for the family's passage. She lives with the ship's captain's family on a typical southern plantation.
Eventually, she fits in place, although not part of the owner's family. She is more part of the slave's family. She works in the kitchen and grows close to her enslaved family and they love her back.
The reader will see how the slaves were treated and the conditions they tried to overcome. The owner's family also had troubles. The father was too often away. The mother was ill. The daughter accidently dies. The son is mistreated by his tutor.
When the plantation owner dies, the mother is put in an insane asylum and Lavinia is sent to live with the mother's relatives. Here she thrives until she is married to Marshal, the son of the plantation owner.
Life is ironic, here. Lavinia returns as the mistress of the plantation. Her marriage, however, is not happy, to say the least. Marshal is abusive and a drunk. Lavinia identifies more with her enslaved family than with Marshal.
Upheaval comes. Tragedy strikes. Lavinia is fine but things will never be the same.
Sister Jeanette, a Mercedarian Sister, compared praying and spending that time to be with Jesus to tanning. When you are at the beach, enjoying the sun and surf, you don't notice that you're tanning, but you are. Look at yourself in the mirror.
Think of Jesus as our sun. When we spend the time to be with Him, Jesus is working on your soul, like the sun works on your skin. You aren't aware, but it is happening.
It's funny how a lady I barely know expresses one of my most often used expressions. My friend, Bill, once exclaimed, as my sister would say, "People suck." That's it. Ever since then, a week doesn't go by when I make that declaration.
Take last night. I'm in a prayer group, specifically, a Lay Dominican Rosary prayer group. One of the most faithful of the group, died. In honor of him, I asked people to zoom in to pray the Rosary, for our deceased friend. Ready?
Get this.
Nobody came.
I repeat. NOBODY.
Dare tell me that People don't suck.
I told so many that I was worried how zoom could handle it. I told his Lay Dominican chapter. I told other Dominican friends. I told priests who worked with him. I told ALL Lay Dominicans in our Province.
Nobody came.
People suck.
This was 8:00 pm. This was our usual time. It is a small group, anyway. At the most we had five people praying at a time. Last night, there were only four. The usual participants. Praying a rosary is only 10-15 minutes.
I will say this. I was shocked when we began praying. Appalled that no one came. Legitimately "pissed." As we prayed, the anger, disappointment, and hurt gradually dissipated. By the time, we finished, I felt better, reconciled. After all, I know people suck.
Mike Lupica's Robert B. Parker's Hot Property is a book club selection. Even though Robert B. Parker is gone, Mike Lupica continues writing in Parker's style. Mmmm, couldn't Artificial Intelligence do the same?
Typical of Parker's style, the action is fast, the dialogue is Boston Irish Mafia patter. Friends of Parker are being shot at, and some have died. What's up? Attorneys, news reporters, politicians, and others associated with building a casino in Boston, have been attacked. It involves a large amount of money. Doesn't murder always have to do with money or love?
Spencer and his associate, Hawk, and his long-time girlfriend, Susan, are all in the story. Spender aficionados will be pleased.
James Weldon Johnson wrote the following poem about the creation story from Genesis. He is a very accomplished and interesting man. He was a lawyer and diplomat, besides being the executive secretary of the NAACP. As you see below, he was a poet, and his poem "Lift Every Voice and Sing," became the anthem for the Black national anthem. Here is another of Johnson's famous poems, TheCreation, followed by the poem Lift Every Voice and Sing, put to music.
THE CREATION
A Negro Sermon And God stepped out on space, And He looked around and said, “I’m lonely-- I’ll make me a world.”
And as far as the eye of God could see Darkness covered everything, Blacker than a hundred midnights Down in a cypress swamp.
Then God smiled, And the light broke, And the darkness rolled up on one side, And the light stood shining on the other, And God said, “That’s good!”
Then God reached out and took the light in His hands, And God rolled the light around in His hands Until He made the sun; And He set that sun a-blazing in the heavens. And the light that was left from making the sun God gathered it up in a shining ball And flung it against the darkness, Spangling the night with the moon and stars. Then down between The darkness and the light He hurled the world; And God said, “That’s good.”
Then God Himself stepped down— And the sun was on His right hand And the moon was on His left; The stars were clustered about His head, And the earth was under His feet. And God walked, and where He trod His footsteps hollowed the valleys out And bulged the mountains up.
Then He stopped and looked, and saw That the earth was hot and barren. So God stepped over to the edge of the world And He spat out the seven seas; He batted His eyes, and the lightnings flashed; He clapped His hands, and the thunders rolled; And the waters above the earth came down, The cooling waters came down.
Then the green grass sprouted, And the little red flowers blossomed, The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky, And the oak spread out his arms, And the lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground, And the rivers ran to the sea; And God smiled again, And the rainbow appeared, And curled itself around His shoulder.
Then God raised His arm and He waved His hand, Over the sea and over the land, And He said, “Bring forth. Bring forth.” And quicker than God could drop His hand Fishes and fowls And beasts and birds Swam the rivers and the seas, Roamed the forests and the woods, And split the air with their wings. And God said, “That’s good.”
Then God walked around, And God looked around On all that He had made. He looked at His sun, And He looked at His moon, And He looked at His little stars; He looked on His world, With all its living things, And God said, “I’m lonely still.”
Then God sat down On the side of a hill where He could think; By a deep, wide river He sat down; With His head in His hands, God thought and thought, Till He thought, “I’ll make me a man”
Up from the bed of a river God scooped the clay; And by the bank of the river He kneeled Him down; And there the great God Almighty Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky, Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night, Who rounded the earth in the middle of His hand; This Great God, Like a mammy bending over her baby, Kneeled down in the dust Toiling over a lump of clay Till He shaped it in His own image;
Then into it He blew the breath of life, And man became a living soul. Amen. Amen.
—James Weldon Johnson.
Published in The Freeman, December 1920 Also published in Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921) Also published in The Book of American Negro Poetry (1922) Also published in The New Negro: An Interpretation (1925) Also published in Caroling Dusk (1927) Also published in God's Trombones (1927)
Chancleta is a sandal or slipper. Something a mother who needed to whack (admonish) a child with, for misbehaving, would be something handy, is called a chancleta.
I never whacked any of my children. However, I did use my slippers for whacking spiders. So much so, that my slippers are called, "Spider whackers."
The Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans is a cute short Christmas story. I would have made it even shorter by cutting out the beginning explanation. I'd begin by saying that they moved into the mansion to start new jobs. But anyway, whatever sins the author committed are forgiven because the story has a happy ending, like all Christmas stories do. The found letters in the story were not from or to her husband. I thought they might be to God. But Mary was writing to her deceased daughter. This sounds like a sad story but Mary and her daughter are united in the end. All Christmas novels should be like The Christmas Box.
Look at the verbs in Genesis 1: 1-26. What is the dominant verb? "Let."
What does that tell you about God?
It tells me that God does all the action. He made everything.
Note that human beings were made last, after everything was put in place. We were told to take care of everything.
Yes, it's a myth. The Bible has two creation myths, but there are others. Myths aren't false. The facts may not be true, but the lessons learned are truth.
I just discovered the Makepeace series about the British spy, Emma Makepeace. She is a female James Bond. The author is Ava Glass. The title is The Trap. In this book, a G7 meeting is going to be held in Scotland and Emma is helping to make sure the meeting has no problems.
The fact that Russian spies are around the meeting location is telling. They are staying with a successful business. Emma is to cozy up to him to find out what the Russians are up to.
Of course she does, with thrills, tension, political ramifications, and shootings.
We give them back to you, O Lord, who first gave them to us; and as you did not lose them in giving, so we do not lose them in the return.
Not as the world gives do you give, O Lover of souls, For what is yours is ours also, if we belong to you.
Life is unending because love is undying, and the boundaries of this life are but an horizon, and an horizon is but the limit of our vision.
Lift us up, strong Son of God, that we may see further, Strengthen our faith that we may see beyond the horizon.
And while you prepare a place for us, as you have promised, prepare us also for that happy place; that where you are we may be also, with those we have loved, forever.
Written many years ago by an English Dominican friar, Bede Jarrett, op.
Half an hour reading the first nine chapters of the Dark Night of the Soul would make it clear why the time always comes for the beginner to move forward into mystical prayers. It could be a life-changing half hour for anyone ready for real spiritual development. Unless, that is, you're me. The first nine chapters told me that I'm not ready to read mystical, arcane, complex thoughts and expressions. St. John of the Cross and I are centuries apart.
Have you ever heard someone say that they don't need to go to church because God is everywhere, so why go to a building to worship?
You know what's wrong with that? Community. It's the difference between one person singing, which is nice, compared to a choir, which is nicer, because everyone in the choir can feel, hear, and see, and even emote, the feelings the lyricist meant to convey.
Think of this. You pray for your deceased loved one. The entire church prays for your loved one. Which would you want?
Esther de Waal's book, Seeking God is a description of the life of Benedictine monks. She ties the monastic life to our everyday life. Through this book, anyone can apply the attitudes of a monk. It will help people get through their secular life.
Personally, I'm not at all surprised. After all, as a Lay Dominican, I live, or try to live, as an Active Contemplative. All Dominicans (members of the Order of Preachers) do the same, depending on whether they're friars, nuns, sisters, or lay persons. St. Dominic organized his religious order around the prayer life of monastics. But we go out and work. We balance if we can or just do the best that you can.
If we can do it, so can Esther de Waal's readers. She describes monastic life as ordered, prayerful, and fulfilling. So, it is.
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