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CONGRATULATIONS! Ad multos annos!

G1.6 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

Long time no talk 👋 we had our convalidation recently and it has blessed our lives immensely! Deo gratias! Here’s me and Mr. Zabbazooey ☺️ and my bouquet is made out of legos We also received a blessing from the Pope! It’s hanging in our living room.

At the time when St Matthew’s Gospel was being written, there was an cultural and theological argument between two sides of the Jewish community: about whether Jewish Christians or Jewish non-Christians were the ones truly following God. St Matthew is weighing in on the debate. The destroyed city in the parable recalls the Roman decimation of the city of Jerusalem—and the razing of the temple—in 70 AD. The application seems to be that, in the destruction of Jerusalem, God’s judgement has been enacted on the Jewish religious leaders who rejected Jesus. The parable could be Matthew’s way of arguing that Jewish believers in Jesus are the ones truly faithful to God. What if this parable is a mirror held up for us to see our sometimes-distorted notions of God and God’s kingdom—or shall we say God’s “commonwealth”? (Remember: parables invite us to think about God in fresh and vivid terms, asking, “What if…?”) What if God operates outside of our notions of power and control, of scarcity and fear? What if God rejects being depicted as angry or power hungry, rejects being used as an excuse for the crusades or the slave trade or the Doctrine of Discovery? What if Jesus isn’t the bridegroom as depicted in this story—a royal so inconsequential to the lives of his subjects (and to our daily lives now), that he’s ornamental rather than functional? What if Jesus isn’t a prince so negligible that we can offer worship on Sunday and then uphold empire on Monday? If this parable can function as a mirror, the reflections we see in it are not for the purpose of beating up on the church, using shame as a punishment for judgment. What if judgment isn’t exclusively about punishment, but about clear sight and honest repentance, leading to love and liberation? The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr said it best: “Power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.” What if the ridiculous cruelty of this parable is meant to remind us of the simple fact that God is love, and we are beloved? Jesuit priest and author Gregory Boyle addresses this beautifully in his book, Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion: God, is more expansive than every image we think rhymes with God … The God, who is greater than God, has only one thing on her mind, and that is to drop, endlessly, rose petals on our heads. Behold, the one who can’t take his eyes off of you. Marinate in the vastness of that. Following love’s logic to its conclusion, let us look again at the parable’s mirror. What if—among the many who are invited—the few chosen are the ones who choose to follow Divine Love incarnate, so that we can all—every human being everywhere—may be called “beloved,” God’s children with whom God is well pleased? What if, because of what was done by Jesus in the outer darkness of Calvary, we really do get to, as Father Boyle says, “marinate in the vastness of a God who can’t take their eyes off of you, and who endlessly drops rose petals on our heads”? What God wants more than anything else is that his children freely choose the life that he has on offer. And so, while we walk on this earth, the invitations are constantly issued to those of us willing to hear. Unlike the man who rejects to wear the wedding garment in this parable, which symbolises living the love and justice that God has created us for, we can respond differently to the king’s gentle question: “’My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?’” The gospel reminds us to keep accepting Jesus’ invitations. The eternal life he is calling us to be part of is the one we have been created for.

G1.5 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

G1.4 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

international travel

Your dad posts a list of things old people do as he still does all 20, and you’ve done 19 of them.

"Words from loved ones can stand alone in our memory. Mary’s words invite us to stand still. She invites us to discern God’s will as she did, as Juan Diego did." https://fscc-calledtobe.org/2026/09/30/franciscan-sisters-favorite-our-lady-of-guadalupe-quotes/

This virtual group called Autistic Catholics has meetings for those autistic people and those who support them. On Monday October 12th at 7pm Eastern, Vanessa Chastain will give a talk for autistic women discerning called, "St. Margaret of Castello as a Model for Vocations involving Disability: A Vocational Discernment Event for Women with Autism." Here's a link to register. https://www.autisticcatholics.org/community-resources

trade in International trade

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1085673087588237

When your oldest progeny turns 42, (July 13th)

Consider this parable alongside the events of Holy Week. During Holy Week, the pattern of worship in most of our churches moves from the loud shouts of Hosanna on Palm Sunday, to the softer notes of Ubi Caritas on Maundy Thursday, to the grief of Good Friday, and then the silence of Holy Saturday. We move, both literally and figuratively, from loud, to soft, to silence. And as Jesus’s lifeless body is taken down from the cross, we can imagine Pilate basking in the silence. Order is restored. Back in the vineyard, as the tenants stand over the body of their landlord’s son, they’re surely thinking the same thing: ‘Well, that’s the last time they send somebody down here to try and tell us how to run things! The old landlord is out of options! He’ll surely leave us alone now! Besides, what did he know about making wine anyway? All he did was siphon off a hefty profit from our hard work. Now it’s all ours!’ The tenants—and Pilate—may well have enjoyed a rare moment of satisfaction—a feeling of closure on the Saturday after they participated in the death of an innocent man. Finally, free from that nuisance. But then Sunday comes. And it doesn’t come with all the Easter fanfare and pageantry that we’ve come to enjoy during our Easter celebrations. In fact, whenever the dead are raised in Scripture—whether it’s Lazarus or Jesus or some other unnamed figure—people really don’t make all that big of a fuss—at least, not at first. The truth and the power of life breaking in on death’s well-worn territory takes time to settle in! That first Easter morning was probably as quiet as any other Sunday morning, and over at the vineyard, the tenants probably woke up a little dazed from the big party they had thrown the night before. But little by little, the news got around. This Jesus fellow whom Pilate had handed over as a price for peace? Word on the street is that Pilate couldn’t finish the job; that Jesus wasn’t dead after all. After the haze wore off, it must have occurred to the tenants that they could claim the vineyard as their own all they wanted, but that the landowner still had the deed. Without it, their claims were meaningless. Sooner or later, the tax adjustor or the sheriff would come knocking. Jesus’s question to his listeners is chilling: “when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” When we slow down with Scripture, this parable brings to bear a truth far greater than we might have first thought. This parable reminds us that even when violence and death and treachery seem to have won, they do not have the last word. Going back to Holy Week, Pilate may have gone to sleep on Saturday, thinking himself a shrewd military leader, but little did he know that when he awoke on Easter Sunday, his name would be forever preserved in the creed of the very movement he thought he had defeated, next to the very man whose life he had traded as a bargain for peace—because, come what may, God will have the last word. And those vineyard tenants? They may have very well given the vineyard a new name and a new coat of paint, but the word got around. When you deal in death, word always gets around, because, even in death, the last word still belongs to God. In the wake of warfare and tragedy and death and chaos, whether today or two thousand years ago at Golgotha, it can be nearly impossible to see anything beyond the devastation that confronts us. God’s Kingdom will prevail and will be fruitful. Also, that it embraces all humankind, not just a select few, but in fact all creation. It tells us that God’s love will not be thwarted, no matter the misuse of privilege, authority and power. The cornerstone of the Kingdom is Jesus, the Son, the one who was rejected. Our task, our mission, is to be faithful to Jesus’ teaching and fruitful in bringing about the Kingdom in our world, through works of justice, peace, and reconciliation, in love of neighbour, and in care and compassion for the poor, the lonely, and the marginalised. The letter to the Philippians assures us: Do not worry about anything. Keep on doing the things of the Kingdom … and the God of peace will be with us.

holiday Inn

G1.3 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

G1.2 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles est beni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

I saw this on YouTube. I've always liked Fr. Gregory Pine, and I like this video, too. I already knew a few of the other rites, but I was unaware of just how many there actually are.

The First Glorious Mystery The Resurrection Le Premier Mystere Glorieux La Résurrection Notre Pere, qui est au cieux, Que Ton nom soit sanctifier, Que Ton regne vienne, Que Ta volonter soit faite, sur la terre, comme au ciel. Donnes-nous aujourd'hui, notre pain de ce jours, Pardonnes-nous nos offenses, comme nous pardonnons aussi a ceux qui nous ont offenser. Ne nous soumet pas a la tentation, mais delivres-nous du mal. Amen G1.1 Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace, le Seigneur est avec vous, vous etes benie entres toutes les femmes et Jesus, le fruit de vos entrailles est b eni. Sainte Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous pecheurs, maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort. Amen

Happy trails! Hope to see you again.

Most excellent! Prayers for your further discernment and incorporation into the sisters' communal life.

Goodbye Phatmass. It's been real 🫡

I am very happy to report (befor I go and cook dinner for my community :D) that I professed first vows with the Congregation of Jesus last saturday. Please enjoy some pics: https://www.congregatiojesu.de/nachrichten/discerning-love? and know that I'm praying for you!

Salut, o Reine, Mere de misericorde, notre vie, notre douceur et notre esperance, salut! Enfants d'Eve, exiles, nous crions vers vous; vers vous nous soupirons, gemissant et pleurant dans cette vallee de larmes. O cous, notre avocate, tournez vers nous vos regards misericordieux. Et, apres cet exil, montrez-nous Jesus, le fruit benie de vos entrailles. O clemente, o misericordieuse, o douce Vierge Marie. Amen