Mums, Daffodils, and the Rest of the Cosmos

What I used to know as Mothering Sunday, and which the British call ‘Mother’s Day’, is looming. This coming Sunday, in fact. I was reminded of this as I walked to work this morning and got visually assaulted by a billboard telling me to remember to buy flowers.

The Mother’s Days of my youth I fondly remember as days on which the mothers of our parish were given daffodils. The servers would be dispersed from the sanctuary to hand them out, and would inevitably become flustered when faced by the one young woman whose maternal status was unknown. After church, we would proceed as a family to my grandparents’ home, where we would give my grandma the daffodil we had collected for her, and gorge ourselves on all the food her and my grandfather would lay out.

Perceptions of the Church - Looking under the Bonnet

For all my interest in intellectual pursuits, I have a bit of a boyish weakness I have never been able to shake. I quite like cars. From F1 to WRC to the average Volkswagen on the street, I can spend far too much time thinking about cars and what goes on underneath them. But having confessed this, I know that I am not alone. Numerous colleagues of mine - men and women - will turn their head toward a nice-looking vehicle. And for good reason. Cars can represent the best in design, with lines as appealing as just about anything human beings have contrived.

Into Great Silence - Review

Having spent yesterday afternoon at the cinema, I am compelled to review what must be the most remarkable film I have ever seen: Into Great Silence (Die Große Stille).

Now, when I say that this film was one of the most remarkable, it is not solely because I fancy watching almost three hours’ worth of ‘church scenes’, or that my penchant for the ancient strains of chant was well-satisfied. These things may be true, but the case for Into Great Silence goes much, much deeper.

Concentric Circles, pt. I.

What began as a response to R. of Nipawin’s comments to the article ‘Culture and Religious Integration‘, also seemed like an appropriate (albeit partial) response to D. Smith’s comments at the bottom of ‘Apologia pro mutatione mea, pt. VII’. At the end of the day, it is my attempt to explain how I understand the Gospel to relates to culture, how the Church relates to the world, and how the Liturgy relates to life. Like the apologia, I intend to offer it in parts. Feel free to comment.

Gambling on God

I have had a terrible week. It is now Friday, and I feel as if I have accomplished almost none of the things I set out to do last Sunday afternoon. My Lenten observance has not exactly been a resounding success, and my general disposition has been less than attractive to my wife and children. Perhaps I can console myself by pretending I am merely feeling the season.

When I get down, though, my thoughts will often turn to what it is I believe about God.