This blog is based on references in the Bible to fear. God wills that we “BE NOT AFRAID”. Vincit qui se vincit" is a Latin phrase meaning "He conquers who conquers himself." Many theologians state that the eighth deadly sin is fear. It is fear and its natural animal reaction to fight or flight that is the root cause of our failings to create a Kingdom of God on earth. This blog is dedicated to Mary the Mother of God. "
St. Mary Magdalene de’ Pazzi walked her convent garden and saw what most men spend their whole lives refusing to see: the true shape of their sins. Not abstractions, not metaphors—consequences. Hypocrisy pierced like swords. Impatience crushed like stone. Ingratitude burned like molten metal. Her ecstasy revealed that every “small” sin has a temperature, a weight, a texture. Nothing disappears. Everything becomes itself. Purgatory is simply the soul finally experiencing the truth it tried to ignore.
So today’s smoke becomes a discipline of clarity. I let the burn remind me that purification is unavoidable—either embraced now or endured later. The saint’s vision is not meant to terrify but to sober. It tells me to stop negotiating with my vices and start interceding for the dead who can no longer choose. A man who purifies himself in this life walks lighter. A man who delays carries his own future fire.
SHE COULDN’T TAKE IT (1935)
George Raft, Joan Bennett
A sharp, fast‑moving romantic comedy where a hardened man and a high‑society woman collide—and discover that character, not comfort, is what makes a life worth living.
1. Production & Historical Setting
Released by Columbia Pictures in 1935, She Couldn’t Take It sits squarely in the Depression‑era trend of “madcap wealth meets streetwise grit.” Director Tay Garnett blends screwball energy with moral undercurrents about entitlement, responsibility, and the dignity of work.
George Raft plays the tough, principled ex‑convict who refuses to be bought.
Joan Bennett plays the spoiled heiress whose world collapses when her family’s fortune is seized.
The supporting cast leans into caricature—eccentric millionaires, scheming relatives, and opportunists—highlighting the emptiness of privilege without virtue.
The film’s world is one where money can buy everything except backbone—and backbone is the only thing that survives the fall.
2. Story Summary
When the wealthy Van Dyke family loses their fortune, their pampered daughter Carol (Joan Bennett) is forced into real life for the first time. She crosses paths with Bill Reardon (George Raft), a man who has survived prison, poverty, and betrayal—and who refuses to pity her.
What follows is a collision of worlds:
Carol’s entitlement meets Bill’s blunt realism.
Her dependency meets his self‑command.
Her illusions meet his hard‑earned clarity.
As they navigate schemes, setbacks, and the unraveling of her family’s pretenses, Carol begins to shed her vanity. Bill, in turn, discovers that compassion doesn’t weaken a man—it strengthens him. Their romance emerges not from charm but from conversion: she becomes more grounded, he becomes more open, and both learn that dignity is worth more than wealth.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. Wealth Without Virtue Collapses
Carol’s world falls apart because it was built on comfort, not character. The film exposes how fragile a life becomes when it depends on circumstances instead of discipline.
B. Hardship as Formation
Bill’s strength comes from suffering rightly endured. His past—unwanted, unjust, and painful—has forged him into a man who cannot be bribed or flattered.
C. Humility as the Doorway to Love
Carol’s transformation begins only when she stops demanding rescue and starts accepting reality. Humility makes her lovable.
D. Integrity as Masculine Gravity
Bill’s refusal to compromise—financially, morally, or emotionally—creates the gravitational pull that stabilizes everyone around him.
E. Redemption Through Responsibility
Both characters grow when they take responsibility for their lives. Love becomes possible only after truth is embraced.
4. Hospitality Pairing — The Depression Table
Black coffee — unadorned, honest, nothing to hide behind.
A slice of buttered toast — simple sustenance, the dignity of enough.
A single silver coin on the table — reminder that wealth is a tool, not a foundation.
A sprig of thyme — symbol of courage in small, daily acts.
A setting for evenings when you need to remember that strength is not luxury—it is discipline.
5. Reflection Prompts
Where have I confused comfort with strength in my own life.
What hardships have shaped me into someone more grounded and honest.
Where do I still expect others to rescue me instead of taking responsibility.
Which relationships in my life sharpen my integrity rather than soften it.
What part of my character needs to be rebuilt on something firmer than circumstance.
Cigar: bundled Maduro Whiskey: Evan Williams Black Virtue: Endurance Question:What still needs burning off in me
The Three Compartments
Ice: for souls who lived cold, indifferent, withholding warmth. Boiling Oil: for souls stuck to comforts and habits that clung like pitch. Molten Metal: for souls who chased shine, reputation, and appearances.
Why the Cheap Smoke Fits
No polish. No pretense. Just the raw burn that tells the truth.
Sit with the flame and ask where you’re still cold, clinging, or polishing your image instead of your soul.
A YANK AT OXFORD (1938)
Robert Taylor, Lionel Barrymore, Maureen O’Sullivan, Vivien Leigh
An energetic campus drama where an overconfident American collides with the ancient discipline of Oxford—and discovers that pride must be broken before character can be built.
Sources: imdb.com
1. Production & Historical Setting
Released by MGM in 1938, the film was part of Hollywood’s fascination with British academic life—tradition, ritual, and the shaping of young men. Director Jack Conway blends light comedy with moral formation, while the cast brings surprising depth:
Robert Taylor as the gifted but arrogant American athlete.
Lionel Barrymore as the stern but fair father figure.
Maureen O’Sullivan as the steadying presence of sincerity.
Vivien Leigh, just before Gone With the Wind, as the charming but complicated catalyst for scandal.
Oxford itself becomes a character: stone halls, rowing shells, gowns, bells—an environment designed to break pride and build discipline.
2. Story Summary
American track star Lee Sheridan arrives at Oxford expecting admiration. Instead he finds:
Rivalry with the upper‑class students he unintentionally insults.
Humiliation when his arrogance isolates him.
Temptation through a flirtation with a married woman (Vivien Leigh).
Correction when he is falsely accused and must face the consequences.
Redemption through loyalty, courage, and a willingness to change.
The turning point comes when Lee stops fighting Oxford and begins submitting to its discipline. His final race is not just athletic—it is moral: a man running as someone newly forged.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. Pride Meets the Ancient Order
Lee’s swagger collapses when confronted with a world older, wiser, and more demanding than he expected. Pride always breaks when it meets something immovable.
B. Discipline as Freedom
Oxford’s rules, rituals, and expectations are not constraints—they are the scaffolding that allows Lee to grow into a man capable of self‑command.
C. The Wound of False Accusation
Being blamed for what he didn’t do forces Lee to choose between self‑pity and integrity. Innocence still requires endurance.
D. Friendship as Formation
The men who first mocked him become the ones who sharpen him. Brotherhood is often born from conflict, not comfort.
E. Victory After Surrender
Lee wins only after he stops performing and starts submitting to the truth about himself. His athletic triumph mirrors his interior conversion.
4. Hospitality Pairing — The Oxford Table
Strong black tea with honey — discipline softened by sweetness.
Toasted English muffin with butter and jam — simple, steadying, collegiate.
A small brass key on the table — symbol of formation: doors open only after humility is learned.
A single sprig of rosemary — remembrance of who you were before correction, and who you are becoming after it.
A setting for evenings when you feel the sting of correction and need to remember that discipline is a gift.
5. Reflection Prompts
Where does my pride still expect applause instead of accountability?
What structures or disciplines in my life function like Oxford—ancient, demanding, and good for me?
How do I respond when I am misunderstood or falsely accused?
Which friendships in my life sharpen me rather than flatter me?
What “race” am I running right now that requires humility before victory?
(“Many Are Falling Prey to the Devil’s Tactics in These Times” – U.S. Grace Force)youtu.be
The video argues that the devil’s primary tactic today is disorientation through noise—a constant stream of negative media, outrage cycles, and spiritual distraction. Dr. Dan Schneider warns that demons exploit this atmosphere to keep people off balance, divided, reactive, and spiritually unfocused. The enemy’s strategy is not always dramatic; it is often subtle:
Overconsumption of media that inflames fear or anger
Division within families, parishes, and communities
Confusion about what is true, good, or trustworthy
Emotional exhaustion that weakens prayer and discernment
The counterattack, he says, is simple, ancient, and effective: return to disciplined prayer, sacramental life, and interior order. Evil thrives in chaos; it collapses in the presence of a soul that is recollected, obedient to God, and rooted in truth.
CCC: WHAT THE CHURCH TEACHES ABOUT THESE TACTICS
1. Evil exploits disorder and confusion
The Catechism teaches that humanity lives in a “dramatic struggle between good and evil” (CCC 409). The devil’s strategy is to distort truth, sow division, and manipulate disordered passions (CCC 1707). When the interior life is scattered, evil finds leverage.
2. Fortitude orders fear and prevents manipulation
The virtue of fortitude (CCC 1808) keeps a person from being ruled by fear, panic, or the emotional storms stirred by media. Evil thrives when fear is ungoverned; fortitude restores clarity.
3. Truth is the weapon that breaks deception
Christians are commanded to bear witness to truth even when costly (CCC 2471–2474). Lies—whether cultural, spiritual, or personal—are the devil’s native language. Naming truth is an act of confrontation.
4. Authority must serve the common good, not confusion
Legitimate authority exists to create order (CCC 1902–1904). When leaders—civil, ecclesial, or cultural—fail to guard truth and unity, confusion spreads and evil gains ground.
5. Peace is not passivity but the fruit of right order
Peace is “the tranquility of order” (CCC 2304). Evil thrives in disorder; peace is the sign that God’s order has been restored.
LESSONS ON CONFRONTING EVIL
1. Evil is confronted first by refusing to be disoriented
The devil wants you scattered, scrolling, outraged, exhausted. The first act of spiritual warfare is recollection—a disciplined interior life that cannot be manipulated.
2. Evil is confronted by naming lies without hysteria
The Church never teaches panic. She teaches clarity. Lies lose power when calmly exposed.
3. Evil is confronted by unity rooted in truth, not sentiment
Division is one of the devil’s oldest tools. Unity is not softness; it is the strength of people ordered toward the same truth.
4. Evil is confronted by sacramental discipline
The video’s “simple and effective counterattack” is exactly what the Church prescribes:
Confession
Eucharist
Daily prayer
Scripture
Fasting
Rosary
These are not pious accessories; they are weapons.
5. Evil is confronted by refusing to let the world set your emotional temperature
The devil cannot possess a soul, but he can agitate it. The Christian refuses agitation. He stands in ordered peace, which is itself an act of defiance.
Evil today does not always roar; it whispers through distraction, division, and the constant drip of negativity that keeps souls reactive instead of recollected. The Catechism names this as humanity’s ongoing dramatic struggle (CCC 409), where the enemy manipulates disorder and fear. The counterattack is not complicated: fortitude that orders fear (CCC 1808), truth spoken without panic (CCC 2471–2474), authority rightly exercised (CCC 1902–1904), and the peace that comes only from God’s order (CCC 2304). The devil wants scattered minds and divided hearts; Christ forms disciplined souls who cannot be moved. Confronting evil begins by refusing confusion, naming lies, and standing in the clarity of a life anchored in prayer, sacrament, and truth.
Virtue: Atonement & Honesty Cigar: Harsh, unrefined (bundle stick) Whiskey: Bottom-shelf bourbon – sharp, corrective Reflection:“What fire do I choose now so I do not face the greater one later?”
The Lowest Region of Purgatory
St. Frances of Rome teaches that the lowest region of Purgatory is not Hell, though the fire is just as fierce. It is the place where souls who confessed mortal sins but did not complete their penance undergo purification. They died in God’s friendship, but with the temporal weight of their sins still clinging to them.
She describes this region as:
A vast burning sea, where the fire is total and unrelenting.
A temporary state, because salvation is certain, but purification is necessary.
A place of intelligent flame, where every burn corresponds to what was left unhealed.
A region marked by the old tradition of “seven years per sin,” not as a stopwatch, but as a symbol of the gravity of forgiven guilt still needing cleansing.
The first of three ascending regions, each drawing the soul closer to the light of God.
Nothing here is wasted.
Nothing here is arbitrary.
The fire is mercy finishing its work.
Cheap Smoke and Chosen Fire
A harsh cigar and a bottom-shelf bourbon preach the same penitential sermon: a man can choose small fires now—discipline, honesty, penance, self-denial—or he can carry his unfinished business into the fire that God Himself must apply.
Cheap smoke night is not about indulgence.
It is about clarity.
The roughness in your throat is a reminder that purification always costs something. Better to pay in small coins now than in great sums later.
The Holy Face and the Lowest Region
The Holy Face confronts a man with the truth he avoids. The lowest region of Purgatory is where God confronts the truths we avoided in life—truths we confessed but never repaired, admitted but never atoned for, regretted but never amended.
Purgatory removes every ambiguity we refused to surrender.
The wise man begins that surrender now.
What part of your own unfinished penance do you want tomorrow night’s entry to sharpen?
Tomorrowis the Feast of St. George and on April 25this the Feast of St. Mark the patron saint of Venice. Perhaps we should indulge in a little fantasy in Las Vegas with a Stay in theExcaliburHotel followed by a stay in theVenetianwith a stay at thePink Flamingodue to a full pink moon with stop to marvel at the Hoover Dam.
The Hoover Dam has been a popular Arizona attraction since it was constructed in 1935. The dam is an engineering marvel on the Colorado River. Visitors can either drive or walk across the dam that stretches across the river for 1,244 feet. Regarded as one of the greatest engineering wonders of the world, Hoover Dam is a popular destination for people visiting Northern Arizona and Las Vegas.
These
were the word of the Priest Samuel at the coronation of King Saul and just like
Eli Saul and his family did not listen to the voice of the Lord and rebelled.
Our only king was crowned not with gold but with thorns. It was His afflictions
which prepared us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure. Hear His
voice.
“The
gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without
trials—Chinese proverb.”
Copilot’s Take
Samuel’s coronation warning is not political
commentary; it is spiritual physics. Israel wanted a king like the nations, a
visible shield against visible threats. Samuel reminds them that no king—no
structure, no system, no leader—can secure a people who refuse to fear the
Lord. The fall of Eli’s house and the unraveling of Saul’s reign share the same
root: men who stopped listening. The soil of the nation dried out long before
the battles were lost.
Earth Day exposes the same truth. Creation is not a
sentimental backdrop; it is a witness. The world groans, Paul says, not because
it is fragile but because man rebels. Disorder in the land mirrors disorder in
the heart. Stewardship is not environmental activism; it is obedience. It is
the first command given to Adam and the first command broken. Samuel’s words
echo Eden: Fear the Lord. Listen. Do not rebel.
The Catechism names the enemy with precision: sin
fractures creation (CCC 400), darkens the human heart (CCC 407), and creates
structures of evil that outlive the men who built them (CCC 1869). Evil is not
confronted by technique or sentiment but by conversion. The king crowned with
thorns restores what kings crowned with gold destroyed. His obedience—sweat,
blood, and splinters—reorders the world from the inside out.
Earth Day, in the Christian imagination, is not a
celebration of nature’s innocence but a summons to man’s responsibility. The
One who calmed the sea now commands the human heart. The One who wore thorns
now teaches us how to bear friction without rebellion. As the proverb says, “The
gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials.”
Creation itself is the polishing stone. Trials are not interruptions; they are
the grinding that reveals glory.
To fear the Lord is to stand in the world with
clarity. To serve Him is to tend the garden—your home, your habits, your
speech, your dominion—with reverence. To listen to His voice is to confront
evil not with superstition or panic but with obedience. When both king and
people bow to the true King, Samuel says, “well and good.” When they do
not, the land itself testifies.
From the rebellion that fractures creation and the
fear that refuses obedience—deliver me, Jesus.
Bible in a
year Day 292 The
Power of Words
As we continue our journey in 1 Maccabees, Fr. Mike explains that
this book of the Bible is unlike others because it narrates stories and events
without providing any interpretation. In Sirach, Fr. Mike stresses the teaching
on the power of our words and the gravity of gossip and slander. Today's
readings are 1 Maccabees 11, Sirach 28-29, and Proverbs 23:9-12.
Earth Day seeks to highlight and promote efforts
dedicated to the protection of the environment. We face many
environmental crises, including global warming, deforestation, endangered
wildlife, shortages of potable water and
widespread pollution, all which negatively affect our planet’s resources and
can have adverse effects on our long-term lifestyle and health.
In 1970, a US Senator named Gaylord Nelson was inspired to bring about mass
public awareness of environment problems. He heavily promoted the day across
the nation in an effort to gather the largest amount of public support possible
and ultimately, in the hopes of elevating environmental protection onto the
national political agenda. This day in 1970 marked the creation of United
States Environmental Protection Agency and the passage of the Clean Air, Clean
Water and Endangered Species Acts. Today, Earth Day is celebrated by
billions of people around the world and is observed in over 190 countries.
Worldwide, Earth Day celebrations utilize educational programs to inform people
of ways that can help protect the environment and its natural resources. It is
observed annually on April 22nd and is celebrated as International Earth Day.
Earth Day Facts & Quotes
· Energy
Star rated LED light bulbs use at least 75% less energy, and last 25 times
longer, than incandescent lighting. Switching entirely to LED lights over
the next two decades could save the U.S. $250 billion in energy costs, reduce
electricity consumption for lighting by nearly 50 percent and avoid 1,800
million metric tons of carbon emissions.
· In
the past 50 years, humans have consumed more resources than in all previous
history. - U.S. EPA, 2009. Sustainable Materials Management: The Road Ahead.
· We
do not inherit the earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children. -
Native American Proverb
Earth Day Top Events and Things to
Do
· Organize
a group of volunteers to help clean up and restore a green space. Some
suggestions include planting trees and adding waste receptacles.
· Try
to go the whole day without creating any garbage, • Try not to use your car for
the entire day. Instead, use public transit, walk or ride your bicycle.
· Change
your traditional incandescent light bulbs to energy saving LED or CFL light
bulbs.
· Watch
a documentary or movie that touches on an ecological issue. Our favorites are:
An Inconvenient Truth (2006), the Burning Season (1993, 2008), Elemental (2012)
and The Day after Tomorrow (2004).
· Read
one of many books that relate to environmental issues such as, The
World Without Us (Alan Weisman), Hell and High Water (Joseph
Romm) and Natural Capitalism (Hawken, Lovins and Lovins)
We show our respect for the Creator by our stewardship
of creation. Care for the earth is not just an Earth Day slogan, it is a
requirement of our faith. We are called to protect people and the planet,
living our faith in relationship with all of God’s creation. This environmental
challenge has fundamental moral and ethical dimensions that cannot be ignored.
Scripture
· Genesis
1:1-31
God made the heavens and the earth and it was good.
· Genesis
2:15
Humans are commanded to care for God’s
creation.
· Leviticus
25:1-7
The land itself must be given a rest
and not abused.
· 1
Corinthians 10:26
Creation and all created things are
inherently good because they are of the Lord.
Tradition
The environment is God's gift to everyone, and in our
use of it we have a responsibility towards the poor, towards future generations
and towards humanity as a whole. . . Our duties towards the environment are
linked to our duties towards the human person, considered in himself and in
relation to others. It would be wrong to uphold one set of duties while
trampling on the other. (Pope Benedict XVI, Charity in Truth [Caritas
in Veritate], nos. 48, 51)
Changes in lifestyle based on traditional moral
virtues can ease the way to a sustainable and equitable world economy in which
sacrifice will no longer be an unpopular concept. For many of us, a life less
focused on material gain may remind us that we are more than what we have.
Rejecting the false promises of excessive or conspicuous consumption can even
allow more time for family, friends, and civic responsibilities. A renewed
sense of sacrifice and restraint could make an essential contribution to addressing
global climate change. (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Global
Climate Change: A Plea for Dialogue, Prudence and the Common Good)
Equally worrying is the ecological question which
accompanies the problem of consumerism and which is closely connected to
it. In his desire to have and to enjoy rather than to be and to grow, man
consumes the resources of the earth and his own life in an excessive and
disordered way. . .. Man, who discovers his capacity to transform and in a
certain sense create the world through his own work, forgets that this is
always based on God's prior and original gift of the things that are. Man
thinks that he can make arbitrary use of the earth, subjecting it without
restraint to his will, as though it did not have its own requisites and a prior
God-given purpose, which man can indeed develop but must not betray.
Instead of carrying out his role as a co-operator with God in the work of
creation, man sets himself up in place of God and thus ends up provoking
a rebellion on the part of nature, which is more tyrannized than governed
by him. (St. John Paul II, On the Hundredth Year [Centesimus
Annus], no. 37)
The dominion granted to man by the Creator is not an
absolute power, nor can one speak of a freedom to "use and misuse,"
or to dispose of things as one pleases. The limitation imposed from the
beginning by the Creator himself and expressed symbolically by the prohibition
not to "eat of the fruit of the tree" (cf. Gen 2:16-17) shows clearly
enough that, when it comes to the natural world, we are subject not only to
biological laws but also to moral ones, which cannot be violated with impunity.
A true concept of development cannot ignore the use of the elements of nature,
the renewability of resources and the consequences of haphazard
industrialization - three considerations which alert our consciences to the
moral dimension of development.(St. John Paul II, On Social Concerns [Sollicitudo
rei Socialis], no. 34) witness its grandeur up close.
THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932)
Boris Karloff, Charles Laughton & Melvyn Douglas
A storm‑lashed, pre‑Code chamber horror where stranded travelers seek refuge in a decaying mansion ruled by a family of spiritual rot—grotesque, darkly comic, and lit with flashes of unexpected humanity.
Directed by James Whale in 1932, the film stands at the crossroads of early Universal horror and the sly, subversive tone Whale perfected in Frankenstein. It adapts J.B. Priestley’s novel Benighted, retaining its blend of satire, dread, and class commentary. ar.inspiredpencil.com Boris Karloff, fresh from his breakout as the Monster, plays Morgan, the mute brute whose physicality dominates the film. Melvyn Douglas brings urbane steadiness, while Charles Laughton, in his first American role, adds warmth and grounded humanity. The house itself—rain‑battered, candlelit, and crumbling—becomes a character, a visual sermon on what happens when a family seals itself off from truth.
2. Story Summary
A violent storm forces a group of travelers—Philip and Margaret Waverton, their friend Penderel, and later the boisterous Sir William Porterhouse and his companion Gladys—into the Femm family mansion. Inside they encounter:
Horace Femm, nervous, brittle, terrified of the house’s secrets.
Rebecca Femm, a shrill moral tyrant whose piety masks cruelty.
Morgan (Karloff), the drunken, dangerous servant whose presence suggests the house’s long decay.
Saul, the mad, fire‑obsessed brother hidden upstairs, the true threat waiting in the dark.
As the night unfolds, the travelers confront the Femms’ madness, Morgan’s violence, and Saul’s deranged theology of destruction. Dawn arrives only after courage, restraint, and sacrifice hold the line against the house’s generational evil.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. A House Without Light
The Femm mansion is a parable of what happens when a household rejects truth: fear becomes the ruling spirit, and every room hides a distortion of virtue.
B. Vice as Enslavement
Morgan’s drunken brutality is not monstrous in the supernatural sense—it is the flesh ungoverned, appetite without discipline, a warning about what happens when strength is severed from moral order.
C. The Courage of the Steady Man
Melvyn Douglas’s Penderel becomes the film’s moral center: calm under pressure, willing to confront danger, and able to protect the vulnerable without bravado. His steadiness is the antidote to the house’s chaos.
D. Dawn as Deliverance
The survivors step into the morning not triumphant but sobered. Evil has been restrained, not conquered. The film quietly affirms that sometimes spiritual victory is simply refusing to be swallowed by the darkness around you.
4. Hospitality Pairing
Storm‑Night Vigil Table
Hot toddy with lemon and clove — warmth against the storm, a drink that steadies the nerves rather than inflames them.
Dark rye bread with salted butter — simple, grounding, the opposite of the Femm family’s decayed excess.
A single candle — not for mood but for symbolism: one flame held against a house full of shadows.
A small stone or piece of wood on the table — a tactile reminder of solidity and endurance when the world feels unstable.
A setting for nights when you feel the wind rising and need to remember that courage is often quiet.
5. Reflection Prompts
Where in my life have I allowed fear to become the governing spirit of a room, a relationship, or a habit?
What appetites in me resemble Morgan—strong, mute, and dangerous when ungoverned?
Which parts of my interior “house” have I locked away rather than brought into the light?
How do I respond when confronted with another person’s chaos—with steadiness or with panic?
What does dawn look like in my current season—what small act of courage would move me toward it?
Virtue: Witness & Clarity Cigar: Bold, expressive (Habano Maduro) Bourbon: High West Double Rye – spirited, daring Reflection:“What gospel do I live aloud?”
The Ordered Fire of St. Frances of Rome
St. Frances of Rome saw Purgatory as the final architecture of mercy—a realm where God completes the purification we resisted or delayed in life. Her vision is striking for its structure: three ascending levels, each ordered, purposeful, and filled with the certainty of salvation. Nothing is chaotic. Nothing is wasted. Every flame is intelligent.
The Lowest Region is a vast burning sea for souls who confessed grave sins but never fully atoned. Tradition speaks of “seven years per sin,” not as a stopwatch but as a symbol of the weight of forgiven guilt still needing purification.
The Intermediate Region contains three crucibles: a dungeon of ice for coldness toward God, a boiling cauldron for sins of passion, and a molten-metal pond for greed and attachment.
The Upper Region is quieter, a place of longing rather than torment, where the soul aches for the God it now loves without obstruction.
Angels descend into every level. They do not shorten the purification, but they steady the soul so it can endure the fire that frees it.
Witness and the Holy Face
A bold Habano Maduro and a spirited rye preach the same Tuesday sermon: your life is already a witness. The only question is what it witnesses to. Clarity is not merely speaking truth; it is living truth in a way that leaves no ambiguity about whom you serve.
Purgatory is the place where God removes every ambiguity we refused to surrender in life. The wise man clears it now.
The Holy Face confronts you with the unavoidable question: What gospel does my life proclaim—without my words ever needing to speak?
Faith’s Corner
·Boston Marathon--April 21--Show your Boston pride and find something for everyone to enjoy. The annual Boston Marathon kicks off with a fitness expo featuring more than 200 exhibitors, followed by a 5K set to draw an estimated 10,000 participants as well as a relay challenge -- all topped by the grand celebration of city spirit.
I sought the LORD, and he answered
me, delivered me from all my FEARS.Look
to him and be radiant, and your faces may not blush for shame. This poor one
cried out and the LORD heard, and from all his distress he saved him.The
angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear
him, and he saves them. Taste
and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the stalwart one who takes refuge in
him. Fear the LORD, you his holy ones; nothing is lacking to those who fear him. Come, children,listen
to me; I will teach you fear of the
LORD. The rich grow poor and go hungry but those who seek the LORD lack no good
thing.Come,
children, listen to me; I will teach you fear
of the LORD.
While taking a prayer filled hike in the Round Lake,
New York; I asked our Lord on the hike to communicate to me as we walked along
the way. The Lord spoke to my heart and said that in this world there are two
kinds of people those that give and those that get. He said amazingly those
that get never get enough and those who give always get enough.
As we walked
Christ pointed out to me the things that I should be giving to others.
As I started the hike, I noticed the sign with the map
of the hike was reversed and if I did not study it closely I would be lost.
Christ urged me to:
·Give
good directions.
Walking along I met others walking or riding bikes
coming from the opposite direction that looked rather glum and miserable.
Christ urged me to greet them. As I did I noticed their expression changed from
glum to happy.
·Give
greetings.
Walking along I heard music from a tavern near the
trail. Christ urged me to:
·Give
music and song to gladding others hearts.
Walking along I met a small turtle that on seeing me
tucked into his shell. Christ urged me to:
·Give
others respect and privacy.
Walking
along I passed a stream and notice the path was shady. Christ urged me to:
·Give
refreshment to others.
Finally, as I was walking along as the Lord answered me I
noticed He had delivered me from all my fears.
Copilot’s Take
Confronting Evil
Through Ordinary Obedience
The reflection also models a subtle but potent way of
confronting evil. Evil is never named, yet every action Christ urges—giving
direction, offering greetings, respecting privacy, providing refreshment—pushes
back against the self‑absorption and spiritual numbness that mark a fallen
world. The Catechism teaches that evil is a distortion of the good (CCC
309–314). The strength of the piece is that it counters distortion with
restoration. Each small act becomes a quiet strike against the kingdom of fear.
For readers, the critique is that this contrast could be sharpened: these
gestures are not merely polite; they are spiritual resistance.
The Theology of
Giving vs. Getting
The line revealed in prayer—there are those who give and
those who get—resonates deeply with the CCC’s teaching on detachment and
spiritual poverty (CCC 2544–2547). The reflection captures the paradox that
those who grasp never have enough, while those who give always receive enough.
This is classic Catholic anthropology. The critique for readers is that the
piece could anchor this insight more explicitly in Christ’s own self‑gift.
Without that grounding, the statement risks sounding like a moral observation
rather than a participation in divine life.
Creation as
Catechist
The encounters along the trail—a reversed map, a glum
passerby, a turtle, a shaded stream—function as a kind of sacramental pedagogy.
The Catechism affirms that creation instructs the human heart and reveals God’s
goodness (CCC 299). The reflection succeeds in showing how God uses ordinary
moments to train the soul in virtue. For the blog audience, the critique is
that the piece could emphasize that such moments are not random; they are part
of the Christian’s ongoing formation in holiness, especially in a world where
evil often hides in the ordinary.
Deliverance From
Fear as Spiritual Reordering
The conclusion—that the Lord delivered him from all his
fears—echoes Psalm 34 with precision. The CCC teaches that divine providence
does not remove suffering but equips the believer to walk through it with
confidence (CCC 305–314). The reflection captures this truth: deliverance is
not psychological relief but the fruit of right relationship with God. For
readers, the critique is that naming this explicitly would strengthen the
theological clarity: fear is conquered not by escape but by communion.
REMEMBER, O
most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy
protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided.
Inspired with this confidence, I fly to thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother;
to thee do I come; before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the
Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me.
Amen.
**Litany of Trust Tuesday
of the Third Week of Easter**
From
the fear that the evil of the world makes Your victory uncertain, deliver me,
Jesus.
Reflection
April 21 sits inside the Easter
season, yet it carries the same tension the Catechism names as the “dramatic
struggle between good and evil” (CCC 409). The Resurrection proclaims Christ’s
unshakable triumph, but the world still bears the scars of human cruelty,
injustice, and spiritual blindness. This tension is not a contradiction; it is
the battlefield on which trust is forged. The fear that evil might somehow
weaken Christ’s victory is one of the enemy’s most persistent lies.
Gideon’s story exposes that lie.
He faced an enemy he could not defeat, yet God led him into the camp to
overhear what heaven already knew: evil is loud, but it is not sovereign. Fear
becomes ordered when it is placed under obedience to God. The Catechism teaches
that holy fear is a gift of the Spirit (CCC 1831)—not terror, but alignment.
Gideon’s courage did not come from self‑confidence; it came from hearing the
truth about God’s dominion.
The memory of the Shoah
confronts the world with the consequences of forgetting the dignity of the
human person. The Church insists that every human being bears the image of God
(CCC 1700), and when this truth is denied, cruelty becomes efficient. Remembering
the Shoah is not an exercise in despair but a moral obligation: a refusal to
drift toward indifference, tribalism, or the quiet justifications that make
evil possible. The Resurrection does not erase this memory; it interprets it.
Darkness is real, but it is not final.
The Easter season insists that
Christ’s victory is not symbolic. By His death and resurrection, He has
conquered sin and death (CCC 654), and this triumph is made present in every
Eucharist (CCC 1323). John Paul II’s insistence that good must overcome evil is
not idealism; it is the logic of the Gospel. The Church teaches that peace is
the work of justice and the effect of charity (CCC 2304), and that legitimate
defense must never become dehumanization (CCC 2308). Evil must be resisted, but
never with its own weapons.
This is why the Litany of Trust
matters on a day like this. It trains the heart to reject the lie that
suffering is stronger than grace. It teaches that mercy is not fragile, not
overwhelmed by the scale of human cruelty, and not threatened by the instability
of the world. Christ heals in ordered movement—heart, home, Church, world—just
as the Divine Mercy Novena expands outward in widening circles. Where sin
scatters, Christ gathers. Where hatred fractures, Christ restores. Where fear
paralyzes, Christ strengthens.
The Eucharist forms the
community capable of confronting evil without becoming it. In the one bread and
one cup, believers become God’s family, reconciled across every boundary of
language, nationality, and culture (CCC 1396). This communion is the antidote
to the divisions that fuel violence. It is the place where courage is born,
where fear is reordered, and where the world’s darkness is met by a love that
does not retreat.
Scripture
“He heals the brokenhearted and
binds up their wounds.”
— Psalm 147:3
Prayer
Jesus, steady my heart when the
world’s cruelty feels overwhelming. Anchor me in the certainty that Your
victory is not fragile and Your mercy is not diminished by the scale of human
suffering. Form in me the courage that listens, descends, and obeys. Let me
live from the truth that Your Resurrection is not only a triumph—it is a
mission unfolding through every act of trust.
Reflection Question
Where does the world’s
brokenness tempt you to lose confidence in Christ’s victory—and how might He be
inviting you to trust the strength of His mercy in that place?
Tuesday’s Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ, we beg Thee
for the grace to remain guarded beneath the protective mantle of Mary,
surrounded by the holy briar from which was taken the Holy Crown of Thorns, and
saturated with Thy Precious Blood in the power of the Holy Spirit, with our
Guardian Angels, for the greater glory of the Father. Amen.
[2] Schultz, Patricia. 1,000 Places to See Before You
Die: A Traveler's Life List Workman Publishing Company. Kindle Edition.
[3] Sheraton, Mimi. 1,000 Foods To Eat Before You Die: A
Food Lover's Life List (p. 800). Workman Publishing Company. Kindle Edition.
THIS IS THE NIGHT (1932)
Cary Grant, Thelma Todd & Roland Young
A Paris‑to‑Venice pre‑Code farce of jealousy, invented lovers, and the fragile male ego—sparkling, mischievous, and quietly revealing about the masks people wear.
Released in 1932 and directed by Frank Tuttle, the film belongs to Paramount’s polished pre‑Code cycle, where marital deception and sexual innuendo were treated with breezy sophistication. Cary Grant appears in his screen debut—not yet the urbane figure he would become, but a jealous, hot‑blooded javelin thrower whose insecurity fuels the plot. imdb.com
Thelma Todd, at the height of her comic allure, plays the wife caught between affection and fear of confrontation. Roland Young, with his dry, hesitant charm, becomes the accidental moral center of the story. The film’s Paris‑and‑Venice settings, elegant interiors, and light orchestral scoring give it the feel of a continental holiday where everyone is pretending to be someone else.
2. Story Summary
When Olympic athlete Stephen (Cary Grant) returns home early and suspects his wife Claire (Thelma Todd) of infidelity, her friends scramble to protect her reputation. They invent a fictitious lover and recruit the mild‑mannered Gerald (Roland Young) to play the part.
The lie expands as the group travels to Venice, where:
Gerald’s awkward decency makes him more believable than intended.
Claire’s guilt and fear of Stephen’s temper deepen the tension.
Stephen’s jealousy grows, revealing his insecurity rather than strength.
The glamorous Colette (Lili Damita) complicates the charade with her own flirtations.
The farce unravels in a cascade of misunderstandings until the truth emerges—not through moral heroism but through the collapse of everyone’s carefully maintained illusions.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. Jealousy as a Distorting Force
Stephen’s suspicion shows how jealousy warps perception, turning love into surveillance and affection into fear. His strength as an athlete contrasts with his weakness of character.
B. The Fragility of Appearances
The entire plot depends on maintaining a fiction. Each character participates in the lie to avoid discomfort, revealing how easily people choose illusion over truth when the truth threatens their pride.
C. Grace Through Embarrassment
The film’s comedy becomes a gentle moral teacher: truth often enters not through solemn revelation but through humiliation, exposure, and the collapse of our self‑protective stories.
4. Hospitality Pairing
Continental Mischief Table
A French 75—effervescent, elegant, and slightly dangerous, matching the film’s flirtatious tone.
Gougères or light cheese puffs—airy, insubstantial, delightful, like the plot’s comic deceptions.
A small travel token on the table (a postcard, a luggage tag) to echo the Paris‑to‑Venice escapade.
Soft lamplight to evoke the film’s blend of glamour and secrecy.
A setting for evenings when life feels tangled and you need levity without losing honesty.
5. Reflection Prompts
Where am I tempted to maintain a fiction rather than face a difficult truth?
How does jealousy—mine or another’s—distort what I believe about people I love?
What masks do I wear to avoid embarrassment or conflict?
When truth threatens my pride, do I reach for clarity or for another layer of disguise?
What would it look like to let truth enter gently, even if it unsettles the story I prefer?
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