Fiya Powa

I had no idea that the sculptor of this

was counseled by St. Peter Julian Eymard. Auguste Rodin.

Happy birthday yosip!

Saint Sharbel Makhlouf

Today's Saint

Saint Sharbel the Miracle-Worker has followed me from the earliest days of my monastic journey. I remember learning of his beatification at the close of the Second Vatican Council in December 1965. Saint Sharbel's three inseparable loves, depicted in this image -- the Most Holy Eucharist, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the Word of God -- are the mystical treasure of those who seek, in some way, to follow him in a life of silence and adoration.

Collect from the Missale Romanum 2002

O God who called your priest, Saint Sharbel to the singular combat of the desert and imbued him with every manner of piety, grant us, we beseech you, that by striving to be imitators of the Passion of the Lord we may be found worthy of becoming sharers in his kingdom. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever.

Ex Oriente Lux

Saint Sharbel (also spelled Charbel) of Lebanon is one of those in whom the Holy Spirit fashioned a heart of flesh, a heart exquisitely sensitive to the mystery of Divine Love. The hermit priest Sharbel was beatified by Pope Paul VI on December 5, 1965, at the close of the Second Vatican Council. It was as if Paul VI wanted the Council to end with Rome gazing Eastward.

Another Saint Anthony of the Desert

Just before the beatification, a prelate at the Congregation for the Causes of Saints in Rome said to Bishop Francis Zayek, the shepherd of Maronite Catholics in the United States, "Reading about the holy hermits of the desert, we used to consider many reported facts as mere fables. In the life of Blessed Sharbel, however, we notice that these facts are authentic and true. Blessed Sharbel is another Saint Anthony of the Desert, or Saint Pachomius, or Saint Paul the Anchorite. It is marvelous to observe how you, Maronites, have preserved the same spirituality of the fathers of the desert throughout the centuries, and at the end of the nineteenth century, 1500 years later, produced a Sharbel for the Church."

A New Turning

Meanwhile, in Kentucky, a Trappist monk was emerging from a long period of spiritual depression. Thomas Merton had been in the Abbey of Gethsemani for nine years. He wrote in his journal, "Sharbel lived as a hermit in Lebanon -- he was a Maronite. He died. Everyone forgot about him. Fifty years later, his body was discovered incorrupt and in short time he worked over 600 miracles. He is my new companion. My road has taken a new turning. It seems to me that I have been asleep for 9 years -- and before that I was dead." Sharbel, the 19th century hermit of Lebanon, pulled America's most famous 20th century monk out of a spiritual crisis. That is the communion of the saints!

Like a Lebanon Cedar

On October 9, 1977, Pope Paul VI canonized Sharbel, citing the psalm, "The just will flourish like the psalm tree and grow like a Lebanon cedar" (Ps 91:13). The New York Times gave extensive coverage to the canonization in Rome and to the corresponding festivities in Lebanon, days of celebration that brought Orthodox and Catholic Christians together with Muslims.

Holiness in Clusters

Saint Sharbel's influence continues to grow. In Russia he has an immense following of Orthodox Christians. Muslims continue to seek his intercession, going in pilgrimage to his tomb. In Lebanon and in the Lebanese diaspora he continues to teach the way of silence, the way of the Cross, the way of humble love. On May 10th, 1998, Pope John Paul II beatified Saint Sharbel's professor, the monk, Father Nimutallah al-Hardini. Holiness grows in clusters.

A Eucharistic Death

Saint Sharbel suffered a stroke on December 16th, 1898 while celebrating the Holy Liturgy. He was reciting the prayer, "Father of Truth, behold your Son, a sacrifice pleasing to you. Accept this offering of Him who died for me." He fell to the floor holding the Holy Eucharist in his hands. He died on December 24th. Sharbel had lived twenty-three years in solitude. A lifetime of saying "Yes" to Love prepared him for a fully Eucharistic death and an abiding mission in the Church, one that, even today, is prophetic.

Today, I read this and strangely it mentioned three people I was reading about at appx. the same time (unintentionally): Charbel, Merton, and Anthony of the Desert. I knew something was up, and it turns out there was some phrase of assurance in there. Clamazing!

I don't know where i found this

St. Anthony Mary Claret.

Among the other virtues he found necessary for a fruitful apostolate were humility, modesty, and meekness:

No virtue attracts men so much as meekness. They react just like fish in a pond; if somebody throws bread to the fish, they surge without fear aruond the feet of the thrower; but if a stone is thrown instead of bread, they all veer away and hide. The same happens with human beings. If they are treated with meekness, everyone turns up for the sermons and for confessions. But if they are treated with harshness, they get angry and stay home, murmuring against the minister of God.
...
[E]xperience has made known to me that a zeal which is characterized by harshness is a weapon which the devil makes use of; and the priest who works without meekness serves the devil and not Jesus Christ. If such a priest preaches, he drives the people away; if he hears confessions, he terrifies the penitents, and if they do confess, it is without the requisite dispositions, because they are frightened and thus conceal their sins in shame. Very many are the general confessions I have heard of pentients who had formerly concealed their sins just because the confessors had reprimanded them too severely.

Recorded Dream #2

WARNING: ESOTERIC NONSENSE

The other day, I had a dream that I was Harry Potter... again. Last time I did fly on a broomstick, but this time I didn't. It was one of those dreams where I make a big step and jump and I float real high, and if I jump high enough I fly.

So I wasn't Harry Potter yet. I was in that area behind Harmon McDonald's again (oh no...a recurring place!) and there was a huge skate crew infesting the entire area. They built a skate park there and was throwing sharp somethings (I forgot what) at whoever wasn't a "skater". So I kept dodging and evading the massive attacks and eventually I gained my floaty powers and shot off into the sky.

All was good. The sky was blue. I was high enough to not see the ground or at least not to care. (This is a recurring theme in my dreams, where I am in the sky nearing space. Once it was at dusk time and I distinctly remember feeling like Peter Pan...)

THEN

SUDDENLY

an intensely huge flock of black birds fly at me like a tornado. It's the evil enemy! Now I'm Harry Potter. I try to escape. They almost entangle me. I reach the ground surprisingly fast. Everything in dreams are surprisingly fast.

I reach a container (another recurring thing these past few days) and the flocks flew in and formed a hideous demon death child. I couldn't stand looking at it for another second and anyway, I didn't want to stick around for them to catch me, so I split.

SUDDENLY

I was in a bunker, or a boat, or some sort of secret hideout with dim flourescent yellow lighting and white washed rooms. I did see Hermoine. For some reason, I dreamt that I was in the 7th Movie (and not the book, how weird) and yet I didn't think it was fiction at all. Then I thought, hah, I get to see the ending before everyone else, which is absolutely weird because I'm Harry Potter, and supposedly this isn't a fake movie.

This was a hiding dream, once again. I was constantly hiding, or hiding someone else. The enemy (for some reason, they were Nazis, or Russian Communists) was on "the ship" looking for us. It felt so incredibly real. There were a lot of real details. I was hiding in a "hallway" which was actually a tiny room with doors at either end and one of the ship's crewmen was sitting there calmly, carving potatoes or something.

But weird, it was like we knew the enemy couldn't find me, as long as I kept my head down, so everything was surprisingly calm.

But even weirder, even though I was Harry Potter, I was still Sabrina San Agustin, so I felt calm and anxiousness at the exact same time without them cancelling each other out or being confused between the emotions. WEIRD so so so freakly...

and I hid in a locker, and I wasn't Harry Potter anymore, I was just someone, and Hermoine was outside the lockers. "Just be really quiet and don't show your face." So I got all raggedy and my hair was in my face and all that, and just by thinking I was what I needed to be without DOING anything. So some Communist/Nazi was passing by inspecting, and interrogated Hermoine, opening each locker. "Nope, just another slave woman like in the other lockers."

There was more detail, but this was a couple of days ago.

And a couple of people were getting in a little row about whether Harry Potter is good or bad. I don't know. Like anything else, there are risks. But I think there is time better spent than reading those books, and although are really engaging aren't really that great anyway.

People like to compare it to Tolkien or Lewis. Just because it's fantasy genre about good vs. evil directed to kids doesn't mean they are alike. Because Potter isn't comparable to those literary giants. Rowling may have succeeded in making a huge giant franchise, interesting plot twists, a nice sum of dough for herself and her family, and a bunch of crazed teenage fangirls, but I doubt she really made a place for thinking and writing the way those two did, who wrote about other things like religion, philosophies, etc.

Also, wherein Tolkien and Lewis are intended to be Christian allegory or "myths" the Rowling world is not. I could write a whoollllllle EN111 paper on it. ohhh yeah. Actually, someone could do it a lot better, and they did, because I came across it many moons ago when I did write about it for EN111 pleading the exact opposite case. I had a hard time trying to support my case without leaving stuffs out if you know what I meansssss.

anyway, talkative.

Oh no!

I completely forgot today is brother Benedict's day...

Gulai, so fleeting are the signs. If I don't write them down, I just forget them in five millinanodecaseconds. I already forgot half of this one.

Yeah. So the computer's been on since Friday night. It's nearly 3:40 AM Sunday. And oddly I fell asleep while using the computer. Very, very odd. Because I never do that.

And the only tab-a-licious window left open since that Friday night is this page I was intending to read on Eucharistic Adoration.

Anyway, I was reading something about Harry Potter, and this is the part I forgot, but there was some "coincidence" when I came across the following to jump out at me as strikingly related...

Given that here in Tulsa I have dedicated myself to a Benedictine life marked by the particular charism of adoration of the Eucharistic Face of Christ, these words of Pope Benedict XVI are, for me, very compelling. What does one do in Eucharistic adoration if not hold one's gaze directly towards God? The other component of this particular charism is that if I seek to hold my gaze fixed on the Eucharistic Face of God, it is, first of all, for my brother priests, and especially for those whose gaze has, for one reason or another, been distracted -- literally, pulled away from -- the One Thing Necessary. This is where adoration and reparation meet. (found here)

And I was wondering why lately something has been missing severely. It was because someone was being missed :(

BUT TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY to usher in

the old cliche

yipee ca yo ca yay

To digress, I read on.

More often than not the search for God begins with a search for those who seek God. It has always been thus in the life of the Church in both East and West. The faithful come to monasteries looking for fathers and mothers for their souls. People seek out monks and nuns hoping to see on their faces a reflection of the brightness of God. By virtue of monastic profession, we are called to hold our faces directly toward God. "For it is the God who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" (2 Cor 4:6).

I think that's one thing I've been doing when looking at the Alliance.

Right now, I need to fix some things. Wait, my mistake, my Mama Mary will do it kindly.

Like staying up suuuuper late. And going against the natural order of things.

Conspiracy, conspiracy, and even more conspiracy

Why is it that a majority of Catholics know nothing about their faith? Do they even know the definition of faith? Is there even a definite answer or just some vague and nearly abstract "notion"? Why is it that now there is only loooove and no rules?? Is there no definition of the most important thing in the whole world anymore??? Anything other than "love makes the world go round"??? Or some other such flippant sentimental touchy feely crap????? Only the eros, now what happened to the philia and agape?? And even then, there is no DEO.

And so nothing is done for the betterment of man. (Oops, sorry, humans. The feminists are watching...)

Of course, we can't blame it ALL on the Communists. Because we can blame it on those people who let it happen, too... but who's to know who is who anyway... and we have no right to blame in the first place except for prevention...

Manning Johnson, a former official of the Communist Party in America, testified before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1953:

Once the tactic of infiltration of religious organizations was set by the Kremlin... the Communists discovered that the destruction of religion could proceed much faster through the infiltration of the Church by Communists operating within the Church itself. The Communist leadership in the United States realized that the infiltration tactic in this country would have to adapt itself to American conditions and the religious makeup peculiar to this country. In the earliest stages it was determined that with only small forces available to them, it would be necessary to concentrate Communist agents in the seminaries. The practical conclusion drawn by the Red leaders was that these institutions would make it possible for a small Communist minority to influence the ideology of future clergymen in the paths conducive to Communist purposes... The policy of infiltrating seminaries was successful beyond even our communist expectations.

And what other generation do the "priest molesters" come from??

I get it now. This is what She was talking about at Fatima! Hahah, I never thought about it THAT way.

Further...

A Catholic monk who heard ex-Communist Bella Dodd speak at Fordham University in the 1950s had this to say:

I listened to that woman for four hours and she had my hair standing on end. Everything she said has been fulfilled to the letter. You would think she was the world's greatest prophet, but she was no prophet. She was merely exposing the step-by-step battle plan of Communist subversion of the Catholic Church. She explained that of all the world's religions, the Catholic Church was the only one feared by the Communists, for it was its only effective opponent.

In a way, that would be a good sign.

I guess you could say Catholicism and Communism (and its offshoots) are reeeally at odds with each other.

Dr. B, I apologize, but the fact that the Marxists used the Acts of the Apostles to germinate their manifestos doesn't make up for the millions of people massacred by their hands. The devil knows scripture well, a la Jesus fasting in the desert for 40 days.

Recorded Dream #1... might bore you

A dream about church hymns

violins

Inarajan pride

the Apocalypse

and Filipino McDonald employees--

There i was... all alone...

hahaha

I don't know where I was. I was playing "Servant Song" on the guitar, but looking back, if I played what I saw myself playing (and not what I heard) it would have been "Away in a Manger." Then my brother was there. Hey, why don't you take out your old violin? No one said anything, I think, so I took out the violin case (because apparently my brother was really good at violin but hated playing it) and the wand-thing with the horse hairs...all except one hair fell off. Oh, but they weren't bunched together as one, they were all separated like on a guitar. The thicker ones gradiating to the thinner ones.

Then I wondered where's the horse hair? I looked closer, and the horsehair were wrapped around the strings like on a guitar, like so:

So I proceeded to play this jacked up violin with perfect ease, playing accompaniment to "Servant Song" while someone, or no one, played it on the guitar.

Next thing I remember: I'm in the back seat of my green car, we are driving down harmon on that road where Compadres Mall is. The sun is setting as the lighting is severely yellow and orange, and bright, like a movie. The window is down, we're passing by Compadres Mall, and some people are yelling "INARAJAN RULES!" with such vigor and passion I suspect there's a fight! So we drive up to the stop light and (strangely the road is narrower than in real life) in front of us there's a huge group of people, and the Inarajan people are picking fights with them. I think there's a shooting. Then two people try to get in our car. I want them to get in and away from the gunshots but my brother drives away (he's driving).

Then somehow I get out of the car. I'm on the sidewalk at the end of the street on the corner of McDonald's. This point is a lot farther than Compadres Mall in my dream than in real life. There's a storm and the clouds are a deep grey blue like the other day. I decide, I'll run over to ...[forgotten thought]... instead of driving there. I start jogging. The traffic is really bad. The light is now overcast. By the time I reach the back of McDonald's it's nighttime. The lighting is only streetlights. I stop and look around.

I see two young girls in middle school run to hid in a container, or a small building (you know how things switch between existences...) and I kind of hide (but there's nothing to hide behind so I just think that I am hiding) to see if they're in trouble or being chased. No, there are more young ladies running in that direction, one or two. They're coming from McDonald's and wearing those tan uniforms.

I run toward them and see what's going on because even more of the employees are running out toward them. I sense anxiety. We're all in a loose huddle, and I ask what's going on. One Filipino guy says "the Antichrist" (if he said a whole sentence, I don't remember) and I thought, we all should kneel. So we did (without me telling them) and I thought, we should pray a rosary (without my telling them again they take out their rosaries, but I didn't really notice because I was hardcore concentrating). Someone started, "Hail Mary..." but I said, oh no, we start with the Creed, so I started praying hardcore. I looked at the sky for a sign whether or not this really is the end of the world. The only thing I saw was a really, really tall McDonald's sign. I looked around, because I realized I had a doubt, is this reeeeeeally the end of the world?? So I was about to ask the Filipino guy

but when I looked up we saw this guy moving behind us in the near vicinity and it was just like a shadow, but I had a suspicion that everyone else knew something I didn't, that these people were out to get us. So we ran back inside McDonald's really fast, and I remember how scared everyone was trying to unlock the doors in time.

The lights were out, but we could still see. We entered through the back, and it was like a janitor's closet or foyer or somesuch. We all had safety buddies. And had to stay with them. Mine was a Filipino girl. I'm thinking fob, but I don't remember. We were all in this small hallway and everyone was wondering what to do. Suddenly I gave up and did what I usually do in dreams, which is hide. There was a cabinet-like opening in the wall and I climbed into it, though it was stupid because you could obviously still see me in it. Then they told me to get down.

Then my mom woke me up and I was so grateful because that was a very scary dream. It felt very, very real. Even when I was typing all this the feeling of anxiety came back.

If ever I should come across that time when I'm alive, I hope I have enough faith. FO RILS.

2012, here I come. hahah, playing. BTW, I wonder what kind of panic will happen that year?

Happy Independence Day all. huahuahuaahahah!

Odd, dad, just odd...

"Mr. Green" in Korea, World Youth Day 2009
(I don't know who dubbed him Mr. Green)

Whenever my dad gets passioned about his "conspiracy theories", I get a little quiet. I realized with some help that it's just my weakness for personal preference (AKA, pet peeve). It's just the way he talks about those things. I don't think I'd ever really deny anything he says, because most of the time he's right.

I need to get over those pet peeves. They're a magnificent obstacle to charity.

Anyway, my dad believes (and he says he has his sources, which is true) that the source of all this climate change (and so affirming that there is such a thing) is the extreme mass amount of

cellphones.

I guess I wouldn't be surprised, because I don't really know all that much anyway. Microwaves, gamma rays, etc etc. The hair that breaks the camel's back and all that jazz.

Another obstacle to learning charity: an inherent propensity to NOT use the phone.

The deacon called my house today. How random!

I loved today because I chose to do it. It's still not over yet, though.

Charity is patient, is kind: charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up; Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never falleth away: whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the things of a child. We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known. And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity.

Weird coincidental stuffs!

How weird. Found on this blog:

From an early date, the Trinitarians have used a form of prayer based on the Trisagion (sometimes Trisagium or Triagion, from the Greek “three” + ”holy”). This is a Byzantine prayer in praise of the Holy Trinity: its simplest form is “Holy God, Holy Strong One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us.”

The Chaplet of Divine Mercy uses that prayer three times at the end. Considering the chaplet of DM was given to Sister Maria Faustina Kowalska by Jesus Himself. Weird weird weird. A prayer so commonly used in the Roman Rite pulled from the Byzantine one. I always thought that I would never use those. Those rites are more fascinating than a fascinator. I had a dream I attended a Divine Liturgy.

Stay tuned for some FRENCH REVOLUTION HISTORY! yayyyyyyy

What does the Sacred Heart have to do with the Revolution? Pshh, plenty, girlfriend!

The First of da Faust.

Although virtually no one is reading this, I would like to give a heed of warning, just because I want to be all fancy and stuffs.

1. Sometimes I speak fob online, I.E. dis, dat, da, wut, etc. etc. Some people might argue that that is not really fob, and that FoB wOuLd Be LyKe DiS. I disagree. That is more like aznpride.

2. Sometimes things get esoteric.

3. I love God. Some people nowadays hate that. I love my religion (Roman Catholicism...w00000t! and what is w00t. Pronounce it German style. So voot). Some people nowadays hate that even more. If you are one of them, I still won't mind being your friend.

4. I don't know what will happen to this sillly little olde bloge. To what avail purpose this of is it? Who knows. I can only hope it will be the glory of God and the salvation of souls. So I can be doing this instead of playing Farm Town on facebook.

5. "Faust" is after my sister, Faustina.