In honor of Father’s Day, coming up on Sunday, I’m watching and sharing a video by Scott Hahn, Understanding the Our Father, from the Coming Home Network’s conference series, Deep in History, based on his book by the same name. (I’ve had this book in my Verbum library for at least a couple of years and I’ve only just now begun to read it. I don’t know how long it was there before I realized it. Correction: I did start reading this a while back but life intervened and I didn’t finish it. Story of my life.) Video below, links at the end of this post.Continue reading
How many times has some well-intentioned but woefully misinformed person said this to you: “The catholic church* added books to the Bible.” (There are links at the end of the post.)Continue reading
I told the Lord I don’t know how to pray. I know, He said. Oh, right, I guess He would.
I told Him I’ve been busy doing and decidedly un-busy praying. Uh huh, He said. (You might not think that He would speak that way, but He does, sometimes, at least, to me, anyway.)
So I told Him, Look, I really don’t know how to pray and a whole lot of other things besides.
Finally, He said, Now we’re getting somewhere.Continue reading
I couldn’t stand it. I’ve been eyeing that book, A Catholic Introduction to the Bible: Old Testament, by John Bergsma and Brant Pitre, and I finally bought the Kindle version. (Yes, I did want the Verbum edition, but I have no idea when that will be out or even if it will be. And patience is not my strong suit.)
One of the first things I did when I started reading this one was run a search for Pentecost. One of the search results, a passage worth quoting at length, was about Pentecost as the undoing of the Tower of Babel. (Links at the end of this post.)Continue reading
I once read a review on Amazon in which the reviewer wondered why a certain author suffered from such low self-esteem. I had never heard or read a take like that before about this particular author and it surprised me to see it. But I suppose it shouldn’t have. Humility is little valued by many people, and not only little valued, but not even recognized. And when they see the spiritual quality and virtue of humility they give it—having been too much influenced by worldly pseudo-psychology—the diagnosis of “low self-esteem.”Continue reading
When I was either in seventh or eighth grade (could have been freshman year in high school) I picked up the Bible I’d gotten at the Methodist church my family attended, and I read it from cover to cover. It was an RSV. I still have it, though the red dye on the edges of the pages got damp in the trunk of my car (accidentally left it there) and bled onto some of the pages. That was careless and I regret that it happened. I treasured that little book. But did I understand what I read all those years ago? Nope. Not most of it. But I was convinced that someday somehow I would find a way to understand it.
And one day I did. (Links at the end of this post.)Continue reading
I spent the day drinking tea and cuddling with (and cooking chicken for) Miss Lucy Dawg, and binge-watching a show I never got into when it was in its original run, Earth: Final Conflict. I’m on episode 15 of season one and I’m enjoying it. Especially the theme song, will have to look for the soundtrack. After I watch it all the way through once, I’ll go back and re-watch it, and maybe I’ll write something about it. We’ll see.
Have also been going through my library. Oh, if only it were a real library with books on shelves lining the walls and I could walk up and down and touch the covers and gaze upon them lovingly. Alas, I’ve had to pore over boxes and stacks of physical books and browse through digital books on a laptop screen. (My eyes! My eyes!) It’s just not the same. Plus the fact that I’ve got so many fascinating books, sometimes it’s difficult to pick one and settle down with it. No, that’s not true. It’s always difficult to pick one and settle down. For me, anyway.
Ruh roh, my cup’s empty. And an empty cup is a sad cup. Gotta getta anotha cuppa tea. Be right back.Continue reading