Light Dusting

I hope I don't disappear on you again, but school actually starts at the end of the week. I'm hoping to power through questions and comments, so let me know if I accidentally skipped you. Some one wrote in the comments section "Andrew of Scot---where do I leave a question?"  I don't know if they meant to try and ask a question about St. Andrew the Scot or they were using his name in a sort of "Jumpin' Jehosaphat!" sort of way.  In any case, the comments section is the place to leave questions.

Meanwhile a comment from a reader about the "Superheroes".

Ahhh - but there is the anomaly of not letting one's Right hand know what the Left hand is doing.....drawing attention to one's good deeds by Dressing Up somehow diminishes the effect.
In my opinion.

Dressing up how?


While I can see your point, I can't really agree. Perhaps if I hadn't had to listen to so many comments about what nuns wear or do not wear over the years....

The whole habit /clergywear argument goes something like this:
"Nuns and priests should always be identifiable, like policeman and ....well, policemen."

Now, I can understand that sentiment.  So the same thing can be said of these do-gooders.  Their outlandish outfits identify them as people who are there to help. Like  policemen.  Or  nuns. The whole reason the Pope wears that tall hat is so that you can pick him out of a crowd.

My beef with the need of some folks to see habits and collars is that it seems like when they say they want to be able to spot the avowed spouses of the Church,  what they mean is that they don't want to be caught misbehaving, or swearing or being unkind and gossipy because they didn't realize the guy they were having a cocktail with was a priest or the lady they cut in front of to steal a parking space was a nun. 

To them I say, "Behave yourself!"  That way you won't have a problem no matter what anyone around you is wearing.  This includes the beach.

Is St. Catherine of Siena or St. Catherine of Sweden the patroness of preventing miscarriages? and why? I've seen both, and while it's possible they both are, the names make me think someone mixed it up somewhere. 

No, it is both of them, but I don't know why St. Catherine of Sweden wound up in that category. I've actually been on the case trying to find out and I've come up empty.  That means the reason may well be that a prevention of a miscarriage has been attributed to each her, ala St. Gerard.

St. Gerard is the patron saint of childbirth because he forgot his hanky.  He left it at someone's house and then, later, while a young woman was having a very difficult and dangerous labor, somebody in the house remembered Gerard's hanky was there and gave it to the young woman to hold.  Mother and baby did fine, as they say.

So, I'm thinking something along those lines must have gone of with Swedish Catherine.  Unless perhaps her own birth was difficult.  She was the middle child of eight, the daughter of St. Bridget of Sweden. Which brings us to Siena. Her patronage against miscarriage is a no-brainer.


St. Catherine of Siena's mother had had 22 children (half of them had died) when she gave birth to twins in while in her forties. Catherine's twin didn't live long, but Catherine became one of only three women "Doctors of the Church".

The Order of the Eastern No-No

Since things are so quiet around here, I have time to stir up some trouble with this question from a reader:

Here's my question....At what time in history did Catholics decide to condemn Masonry or The Order of the Eastern Star? Are they the same? HELP!


I bought some religious items from an Estate Sale. The estate lot had a membership to the Fresno Chapter of The order of The Eastern Star. The membership holder was a Nun. I have her holy cards, letters she has written with her signature, friends memorial cards( including a few priests) and other devotional items.

I wasn't really surprised by her membership, however others looked at it has the devil walked into the room! How can a Nun be in the Eastern Star? Can Catholics be a Mason? I'm not armed with such knowledge can you help me?

When did the Church first warn about the Masons?  1738 AD. You can read all about it here.  But if you are allergic to things that are dry as dust, scroll to the bottom, where you'll find what Pope Clement had to say back then.


The last time I discussed the Catholic Church's teachings about the Free Masons, some Free Masons hair went on fire.  Be sure and read the comments section, unless you can't stand the smell of burning hair.  It's like an exploded blow dryer in there.  I'll let you wade through this.  I'll have some coffee while you read.

So that's that.

The Order of the Eastern Star is a women's auxiliary group for the Masons.  When it started way back when, you had to be related to a Mason to be eligible. You had to be a daughter, wife, widow, niece...something familial...to a Mason. The rules have relaxed (no doubt to increase dues revenue) to include women who have some sort of relationship with a Mason.  I'm not sure how close the relationship has to be.  Or how you would prove that relationship.  Maybe you have to show your Facebook page.

I don't know what was going on with that nun.  She shouldn't have been in the Order of the Eastern Star, the Church expressly forbids it.  Maybe her poor misguided father was a Mason, and she was somehow 'gifted' with a membership and just stuck the membership certificate in a drawer where it stayed until she died. Let's hope that was the case.

I'm not inclined to behave as though Masons and their families are devils with horns, unless one is willing to judge that such notables as Clara Barton and that lady that wrote "The Little House on the Prairie"  (both members of the Eastern Star) were Satan worshippers.  But the Church has asked us not to be Masons.

So that's that.  If it all makes you smolder, try this.

Superheroes

Oh, these lazy days of summer! Thank you for you're continued patience with my absenteeism.  Sister Julianne is such a whiz with everything that it's done before I think about doing it.  And if I mention something I might want to get done, she runs off and does it.  She is one of those people who loves to fix things for you. Can't find your glasses?  She's already searching for them!  Need to trim the morning glories off the power lines before they crawl up and choke off the power to the whole neighborhood? She found the clippers, the green can, the ladder, the garden gloves....and she's halfway up the ladder while you're still changing shoes. At the end of the week, I go back to school, just to dust and arrange and collate.  I have a feeling that when I get there, she will have arisen in the middle of the night and done it all and I'll just skip through the hallways all day.

So I had some 'leisure time'.  I usually read. Or visit with you.  But I watched a documentary that someone recommended.  For the longest time, while watching it, I was sorry I took it on.

According to this film, there are people who have decided to be Superheroes.  They make up some kind of silly costume and stand out on their own street corner, or a corner somewhere in their town and wait for some crime to come by and then they try to stop it.  They fashion weapons.  They make masks. They practice fighting by sparring with other pretend superheroes.

And, I have to say, the poor things, if we were to call people names, they are the king nerds of nerdery.  They are Nerdtastic.

One fellow had made himself some sort of flash ring. It looked like a "magic ring". It had a little lever or knob on the side and when he flipped it, flame shot out.  Or, it flashed so it looked like flame was shooting out.  "It's a distraction," he said, sounding very important.  I'm not sure what he planned to do with the criminal once he was distracted.  Magic Ring was practically an old man.

I don't think they really fought much crime.  One fellow kept his secret identity as as superhero from his wife. When he finally told her what he was doing with his evenings, she did not laugh in his face or leave him, like any sane person would.  She became a superhero, too.  That's devotion.

Or Nerdtastic.

So it was a little sad watching  a group of them stand on street corners at night and skateboard around talking to each other on walkie talkies. A drunk driver side swiped a car and the skateboarder "called it in" to the corner stander.  "Get the license plate!" the skate boarder yelled into the walkie talkie.  "What?  Can you repeat that? What?"  the corner girl answered.  Drunk driver, gone.  

They did eventually stop the man, took his keys away and promised to mail them back to him the next day.  Shazam!  Take that, crime!

But near the end of the movie, most of these people were shown doing something else. The man and his wife spend their own money to make a homeless person kit.  They take really large size zip lock bags and go to the Rite Aid and buy lip balm and toothpaste and toilet paper--a list of things they think one person would need to live on the street for one day--and they bag it up. A roll of toilet paper, a lip balm, a bottle of water.  Each bag is worth about $20. They make as many as they can muster and pass them out among the homeless.

Many of them carry back packs filled with candy and little toys and nutrition bars and pass them out to people they encounter that need a lift.  They help old drug addicts in wheel chairs get across busy intersections.  They ask people where they stay at night, and arrange places to meet to bring them things they need.  They hold hands and take names.  At Christmas,  they collect enormous amounts of clothing and toys and bring them to homeless shelters.

Today, we call these types nerds. But from the time of Christ on, we have called them saints.  Oddly dressed people with funny ideas about doing what they can to help humanity in need, wherever need exists.  People who really don't care what other people think about their odd mission in life or their funny hat.

They urge everyone to join them, to pick up the slack, but you and I know that very few people have the nerve to be Nerdtastic.

Is It Still Summer?

Where have I been? Just a minute ago it was two weeks ago!  Sister St. Aloysius is off on her yearly Think Tank sabbatical. I thought I was going to have to go it alone with Sister Mary Fiacre, but it's really a two man job. A two nun job. A two person job.  We have it down to a science, getting her in and out of her wheelchair, and in and out of bed, the medication schedule, the TV shows that seem to entertain her. Trying to explain our inanely complex routine to an 'outsider' is almost embarrassing.

"You put the empty bread bag under her left foot and then pull her up and spin her around into the wheelchair."

"Bread bag?"

"Yes.  The bread bag under her foot lets her foot spin like a ballerina. Otherwise she could snap her ankle."

The bread bag was the brain child of Sister St. Aloysius.  Genuis. No wonder they have her at the Think Tank every year.

"If you cut the cookie into pieces and stick a piece between her fingers, she will eat it herself automatically. But you have to pry her fingers apart."

"Pry her fingers apart?"

"Yes. with your own fingers. You won't need any tools or a crowbar or anything."

Around this time, some people flee, with their hair on fire.

I had lined up several of the church ladies to drop in from time to time to pick up the slack. Or the bread bags. We were good to go.

You may remember that last year...was it last year? I lose track.  Anyhow, we had St. Nicolas during  Think Tank season. I didn't think I'd get any help from the powers that be this year.  It's harder and harder to find a spare nun anyplace. So you can imagine my surprise, just after returning from a whirlwind trip to the airport after we realized we misread the ticket and the time was 12 noon, not 12 midnight (poor Sister St. Aloysius thought she'd be sleeping through a redeye and didn't bring a thing to read, this is where a rosary is so handy!), to find a certain Sister Julianna parked on the door step with her little black bag.

I thought she was sitting down when I saw her, but she was standing up.  She's two feet tall!  No, she isn't.  But she is very tiny. I feel like a Yeti standing next to her. She's Cuban.

Actually, she isn't really.  We talk that way here in America.  "I'm Irish!"

No, you aren't.  You may be of Irish decent. But you are not Irish. If you go to Ireland and tell them you're Irish, they'll shake their heads and say, "You're an American."  And they'd be right.

Sister Julianna is of Cuban descent.  She does wonders with a sweet garlic sauce and those little bitty bananas. Who knew garlic and bananas would be a good thing. Although they did not agree with Sister Mary Fiacre at all. So we won't be having them again. I'll offer up my suffering for the Poor Souls in Purgatory.

So it's going very well! Her hair didn't go on fire when I showed her 'the routine' and she can pivot a person on a bread bag with the best of them.

We're back in business!

Linus, Cletus, Clement, Sixtus

Sister, if you ever get caught up with our questions (Joke) I have another project for you. I'd like to learn about the saints that are named in some Masses- Linus, Cletus, Clement, Sixtus... maybe you could do them in order and have a book?!

It would be a very, very short book.  I think I can tell you everything I know about all four of them right now, so don't get too comfortable. You'll have to jump up and find something else to do in just a moment.

Linus, Cletus and Clement are the first three Popes after St. Peter, but not necessarily in that order. It could be Cletus, Linus, Clement.  Or maybe even Linus, Clement Cletus...anyhow. They are the first three Popes after St. Peter.  I know I said that already, I'm padding.

There is a Sixtus I who is Pope in the very early church ( he was number 7), but at Mass we are referring to Sixtus II.  I have a hunch about why we name the first three Popes after Peter and then skip about 200 years to St. Sixtus II.

Every single Pope up to and including Sixtus II was a martyr.  St. Clement had an anchor tied around his neck. He was tossed into the sea.  We don't know what happened to Linus, only that he is listed as a martyr.

You have to hand it to all those individuals who didn't say, "No, thanks" to wearing the Papal crown considering that the job always included martyrdom as a retirement plan.

St. Sixtus II was dragged out with six other people and beheaded. When he realized what was going to happen, he made sure he went first, in the hope that maybe the Emperor Valerian would be happy with a headless Pope and stop there.  It didn't work.

That's him on the left saying, "Excuse me, I'd like to go first." Emperor Valerian came to a bad end himself when the Emperor of Persia did Valerian in.

After that the death of St. Sixtus II, the persecution of Christians was officially ended by the Emperor of Rome.  Hallelujah.

I believe that by listing the first three and then jumping to the last martyr Pope, we are honoring all those Popes who suffered for the Faith in between.  Twenty four Popes went straight to Heaven, one after another, after another.

Really makes you pause, doesn't it about all the silly "war on Christmas" type thinking, doesn't it?

Belly Achers

Thank the Dear Lord I get sick once in a while.  I'm perfectly healthy at the moment and I don't get sick very often. Thank the Dear Lord for that, too.  Because sometimes people who don't get sick at all just have a very difficult time understanding the suffering of others.

Although it was no fun at the time, I once had a strangulated hernia.  As a result, I have a keen understanding of acute abdominal pain and so I sympathize with those who suffer from diverticulitis and I have some understanding of labor pains that would otherwise elude me.  I certainly feel the pain of our dear readers:

Dear Sister, I am a celiac Catholic. While I love God, and the Faith, and communing with Him as much as I can, I am often terrified by Communion. My issue is that I am not able to tolerate any gluten. I have done research, looked at documents regarding diet, and read numerous articles. Apparently to be "Copacetic" (?) the wafers must contain .10% (one-tenth of one percent) gluten. While many can handle the low gluten wafers (Made by Benedictine sisters) I get very ill on those as well. I am able to have the wine and celebrate with that. When I tried to commune with the low-g wafer, I became very ill-I am- the one who vomited up the Lord, due to gluten. Since my family already has a tough time understanding the diet, I got a lot of weird looks, and still do... did I need to go to confession as I did? My priest reassured me that he knew it was a medical issue and that he didn't think he needed to exorcise me. (odd sense of humor.) But while I love God, it hurts that I cannot commune totally, and that I got ill on His body. Have you dealt with this or any other dietary issues? 

Poor thing. I'm sorry your family doesn't understand what your body can not tolerate. You would think it would be very clear and apparent, given the results you have from ingesting gluten. In the future, should you ingest gluten, try to get yourself into the back seat of one of their cars, or seated on their brand new couch.  That might help them in their understanding.

Not only have I dealt with this before, I believe someone tried to sue the Church or called the ACLU or something like that about the rule the Church has about what can and cannot be a host for the Body of Christ.  To no avail.

I personally don't have any dietary issues other than making the mistake of eating curry twice in a row. I can eat curry. I can't eat it again after I eat it.  No curry leftovers for me.

But more and more people do have gluten issues and, until someone invents a 'you can now eat gluten' pill, I'm afraid this is your cross to bear. At least you can still partake of the Blood of Christ, which is just as good as the wafer.  Just because the Church got into a habit of only offering a Host and not the Wine, doesn't mean one is more important or better than the other. What if, all these years, people only got the wine and not the bread, except once in a while the Host was included?  We wouldn't be having this conversation.

Except for this poor gentleman. He would still be having this conversation:

The celiac issue is a huge topic for our family. We really hope and pray one day our dad will convert to Catholicism (mom raised us Catholic). BUT he is afflicted with both severe celiac disease AND alcoholism. Ingesting wheat and/or wine pose difficulties that seem insurmountable for my dad. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated.

Except he isn't having this conversation, as he is not Catholic. One day we hope he has this problem. What a thing to say!

St. Sadie Hawkins

Sister, is there a patron saint for getting a boyfriend?

A saint?  Where have you been?

Let's start with St Agnes.  I'll give you a moment to peruse the material. Some people took exception with all the machinations involved in calling upon her.  They are the same people who refuse to bury St. Joseph in the front yard to sell their houses. To them I say the same thing you should say to the man that got away, "It's your loss."

I can understand how you may have missed this post way back in the archives. Perhaps while you were patiently waiting for me to answer, you read about St. Catherine of Alexandria and the increasing desperate prayers that may be said for her intercession as a Heavenly matchmaker.

I would like to throw in St. Cecilia as a good pick. First of all, St. Cecilia, who is that patron saint of music and musicians, had absolutely not one thing to do with music or musicians. Her patronage of the melodically inclined comes from a line in a poem about her that mentions her singing in Heaven. Or playing the organ?  I'll have to look that up.  In any case, she is often depicted in art, in particularly on holy cards, seated at the organ with the angels as a chorus.

The reason I think she would be a good pick is twofold. Virgin martyrs are on the short list for saints to whom we pray for mates and St. Cecila was a virgin martyr.  But St. Cecilia, virgin that she was, had a boyfriend!  Many of the virgin martyrs ended up being martyrs because they had spurned some potential boyfriend who then had the poor girl arrested out of spite.  Things went south from there, as in the case of St. Lucy.  St. Cecilia, on the other hand, had a lovely young man to whom she was engaged. When she told him she wanted to become a Christian and remain chaste, even if they were married, he said, "Fine with me."

Now that is some excellent boyfriend material.  You and St. Cecilia!  A match made in Heaven!

An Answer 60 Years Long

Everyone in Heaven is a saint. Does that mean everyone who goes to purgatory stays there till judgement day, or that they are all saints by the time they make it to Heaven? We pray for people in purgatory to make it to Heaven a little quicker so I presume they're not all necessarily there until judgement day, or are they?

Are you new to our little convent on the internet? Because this is one of those questions the old nuns would have answered with, "It's a Sacred Mystery."  That's Catholic Code for "Just let it go."

There actually is an answer to your question.  There is no actual time in Purgatory. Purgatory is outside of time.  It will end when time ends. So it's rather useless for us to sit around and count the days and hours a person is in Purgatory, although we do pray for them to get out sooner, rather than later and we hope our prayers are answered.

However, there are a number of saints who had souls from Purgatory visit them and talk about time. The conclusion: one hour of Purgatory feels like 60 years on earth. Time doesn't fly when you're not having fun.


I try not to think about it. Not Purgatory, since I am utterly certain I will be spending some time there, unless the world ends before I do, but the whole time factor.  For example, what does 60 years feel like exactly?  How many times have we older folks said, "What? That was last year?  I thought it was about ten years ago!"  Or, "What? that was ten years ago?  I thought it was last year!"  The idea that a soul could come back from Purgatory to tell about it and be able to pinpoint "60 years"....okay.

I see no point in talking about a place outside of time in terms of time.  What happens there will be between you and God (and Mary when she comes to give you a drink of water).


The one thing we do know for certain, is that people do not go there and stay there until Judgement Day.  Once you pay your dues and cleanse your soul completely, you're out and on your way.  We never say a person who is a saint went straight to Heaven (although they may have), even a canonized saint. That's not the criteria for sainthood or canonization.


The confusion seems to me to lie in the difference between a saint (anyone who is in Heaven) and a canonized saint (someone who the Church has declared is definitely in Heaven through proof of miracles).  Your dear Aunt Millie may indeed be a saint in Heaven. Let's hope so.  But we don't know that for sure, so she isn't canonized.


The only person I have ever heard of as being sentenced to Purgatory until Judgement Day was Pontius Pilate.  I was taught that by the old nuns in grade school.  But they made that up, poor things.  According to them, he went to Purgatory (as opposed to Hell) because he was sorry for his sin.


To which I would have to interject, "That sin."  He may have had a list the length of the 
Amazon of other horrific sins for which he felt no remorse whatsoever and therefore went to Hell.  He certainly didn't believe Jesus was his Lord and Savior.


But I believed the "Pontius Pilate in Purgatory" story for quite some time.


The truth is the Church never says anyone is in Heaven, Hell or Purgatory for sure except for canonized saints.  We have a lot of thoughts on the matter of non matter.

Holy Moses!

Sister- Are there any known-for-sure saints from before the time of Christ?

Yes. Everybody.

Well, not everybody. But certainly Abraham and Isaac, Elijah and Noah, Ruth and that guy who married her and his mom.

Before Jesus died on the cross for our sins, the gates of Heaven were closed.  So all the good people that died before Calvary went to what we call "the Limbo of the Fathers".  That must have been a pretty cheery and interesting place. Moses and Aaron, David and Solomon! What a crew!

Then, when Jesus was dead for three days...a day and a half, really...where was He? Opening the Gates of Heaven and the Gates of the Limbo of the Fathers. I figure He had to have opened the Gates of Heaven first or there would have been a bottleneck. Maybe St. Michael the Archangel did it for Him. Since Michael is an angel and not a person, he would have already been living in Heaven with Gabriel, whenever Gabriel was there and not here delivering news and messages.

We mention this incident when we say the "Apostle's Creed".  That's what we mean in that part where we say, "He descended into Hell."  Technically, we should say, "He descended into the Limbo of the Fathers."  I guess they thought that was too wordy.

Everyone who is dead and in Heaven is a saint, and certainly people like Moses and Abraham and David and Noah and his wife are there.  

St. Joseph died before Jesus died on the Cross, too. And so did St. John the Baptist. They had a short stay in the Limbo of the Fathers. I guess they aren't really 'before the time of Christ', but they died before the Gates of Heaven were open.

I suppose what you actually want to know is, why aren't these people called "saints" and why aren't they canonized?  That's because we didn't start canonizing people until much later in the history of the Church. St. Peter and the Apostles were never canonized. We've only been doing that since the tenth century. Before that saints were named saints by popular demand, and while this seems lovely, too many cookamonga stories were circulating about too many people, some of whom never even existed. So the Church tightened the rules about sainthood and demanded proof. That's why the first thing we do with anyone who is considered for sainthood is dig them up. 

I'm not sure why we don't bother to call them saints. Habit, I think. Like Mary. Once in a while we call her St. Mary, but not so much, really.  She's just Mary. Like Moses.

Virgin Martyrs Leap Into Heaven

Since it's a quiet, breezy summer around here, I've been slowly chipping away at our long queue of questions. Thanks for your patience if you've asked one!  I do feel a little like I'm keeping you on the phone listening to sad music.


Yesterday I had to call the DWP, the Department of Water and Power, about our electricity.  Happily, I wasn't on hold all that long, but the "on hold" music they play is eight sad notes (I could count them) played over and over again on some type of electric (what else?) keyboard.  Having that stuck in my head, still today, is a good opportunity to release souls from Purgatory.  I think that might be the music that is played in Purgatory, in fact. 


In any case, today's question is a follow up from a post a little while back.  


How can suicide be a mortal sin when you cannot be mentally well (in your right mind) when you take your own life?

And how is flinging yourself into flames or the ocean or whatever a protection of your moral purity or chastity? If a woman is raped -- what these saints purportedly were facing was forced sexual acts -- she does not become "impure." She has been violated and has in no way sinned of her own volition.


I imagine you're not very old.  The world is not quite so black and white. Let's start with your first statement that you cannot be in your right mind, ever, if you take your own life.

Yes, you can.  Try old age for a while, and get back to me. Despair does not equal insanity. Despair is also a mortal sin, yet it is a very sane response to some very desperate situations. Some people are in unbearable physical pain.


I would agree with you that possibly the majority of people who take their own lives are not in their right minds. But there are perfectly sane people who think they can just cash it in whenever they want to.


But the spirit of your question is certainly vaild, as there was a time when the Church blanketly stated that suicide was a mortal sin, period. In fact, people who committed suicide were not allowed to have a funeral Mass. Their bodies were not allowed in the church.  As if a suicide isn't hard enough on a family.  That has changed, precisely because the Church understands that the person may not have been in their right mind, or may have realized their sin and asked for forgiveness even as they kicked the stool out from under them.


And there was time in history, in fact up until recently,  when even the law would question if a woman "brought it on herself" if she was raped. That really hasn't gone away entirely yet. Take the case of that nasty old French man in that hotel in New York. Now we're hearing that the victim was a liar and a drug runner or some such thing. She may be that and more. But she also still could have been raped by the nasty old French man and deserves her day in court, which may never come because of her 'criminal' past.


You are talking about a time when women were covered head to toe.  A time where a young woman's purity was treasured in a way that we no longer seem to understand.  


These women valued their vow of chastity above their very lives.  They believed God agreed with them in this endeavor, since the vow was made to God. On top of that, the society in which they lived did believe that if they were raped they would be impure. We don't think that way today, but people did think that way back then. Not all so long ago, really.

Have you ever heard of The Magdelene Sisters?  This was a convent (in Ireland, now the subject of much scrutiny, but also here in the US) that took in wayward girls and put them to good honest work in the convent laundry, which was a commercial enterprise. And while that sounds like a good idea, and often did work out well for the girls, what was considered "wayward" included rape victims and girls who were flirting with boys.  I personally know a girl who was sent to the Magdelenes because she accepted a boy's invitation to a movie. The boy went on with his life with no interruption or reprimand. She spent three years doing laundry. Not in 400AD.  Not in 1620AD.  This was going on into the 1950's.


Times change. They don't always change for the better.  But 'the good old days' aren't always so hot.

As Reliable as the Weatherman

Sister,
I am going to be entering university in the fall as a meteorology student. Could you please tell me who the patron saint of meteorology and weather is? Also, because some meteorologists work at news stations, do you know who the patron saint of news is? 
Thank you,
A loyal reader of your blog


Goodness! A loyal reader! How lovely.


There are several weather saints. St. Swithin, for rain, springs to mind. For rain, as in Pro rain. St. Swithin loved rain. He loved the sound of rain on the roof.


But for you and your meteorology interests, I have to recommend St. Scholastica.  She was the beloved twin sister of St. Benedict. St. Benedict is such a big deal saint, having pretty much invented the Monastic Rule. His sister was a nun. They were both major smarty-pantses.



She had a group of nuns, and he had the largest monastery in the world. Every so often the twins would get together in a house just outside St. Benedict's monastery (because she couldn't go in) and spend hours in prayer and discussion.  On one such occasion, as the hour grew late, St. Benedict said he'd better get going. She was having a fabulous time discussing things with him and begged him to stay longer. He refused.


St. Scholastica bowed her head for a moment and a giant wild storm suddenly rose up.  St. Benedict said to her, "What did you do!?"  And she replied, "I asked you to stay and you wouldn't listen, so I asked God if you could stay and He did listen.  Try to leave now."  I'm sure she also smirked and chuckled, because, who wouldn't after that?


St. Benedict was forced to stay overnight. Three days later he saw the soul of his sister rise to Heaven in the form of a white dove.

There's a weather related saint for you!


The three official patron saints of journalists are St. Francis de Sales, St. Maximillian Kolbe, and St. Paul. St. Francis de Sales was very learned, a Doctor of the Church and spread the Gospel as thoroughly as he could.  St. Maximillian Kolbe actually was a journalist, of a sort, because he realized the the newly popular radio could be used for the good of the Church. I believe he had a radio show.  And St. Paul, well, who spread more news than him? Even now, he's still at it.  So I'd go with St. Max or St. Paul for your news station.

Medieval Mass

Dear Sister,
I'm something of a student of medieval history, and there's one church-related thing that's been driving me nuts. You know how rich people used to pay for chapels to be built so priests could say Masses for their souls after they died? I knew people endowed these chapels for decades at a time, but I didn't know some of the high-rollers actually paid for a thousand years' worth of Masses, or even for Masses to be said "in perpetuity"--as in, forever! What they weren't banking on was the Reformation, and the abolition of monasteries, and church reforms, and all the rest of it coming before their thousand years were up. So...what happened to these guys? Are masses still being said for them?


Don't worry about them. We pray for everyone in the Church (in Purgatory and on earth) at every Mass, everywhere.  Surely, these folks knew that, as the Mass hasn't fundamentally changed, ever.

What I'm not sure about is the motivation of these people in the first place. There is no church named "Marvin of East Chelsea" or "The Little Chapel of Vivian".  The only chapel I can think of that has a non saint name is the Elvis Chapel in Vegas. I'm not even sure it's actually called the Elvis Chapel. But I think it is.  In any case, many of them were certainly simply moved to use their massive amounts of dough for the public good, by helping to build beautiful and inspiring churches or chapels.  Yes, they may have hoped that everyone would remember them, but that's what cornerstones and commemorative plaques are for.


Your study has indicated that they paid for Masses.  Okay.  Let's not dodge that idea. There was a reason for a thing called the Reformation.  But even at it's worst, a donation for Masses is still a donation for the Church.  I'm sure there were people who thought they could buy their way into Heaven. They must have thought they were good enough to at least make it to Purgatory, at which point, the Church Militant (us) would pray them out.  And guess what, we do try.  All the time and at every Mass. 

If they are actually in Heaven, they no longer need our prayers. Ditto for Hell. I'm certain in that case, our prayers (paid for or not) default to another poor soul.


Let's just hope, in the interest of love and compassion, that it all worked out. That while they were alive, the prayers said at Mass helped them to become holy enough to make it, eventually at least, to Heaven.

In Need of Repair

This year we had no fireworks. I heard two stories about why. The first story was that whatever municipal entity pays for the fireworks over the bay didn't want to pay for it this year. Understandable on the face of it, but considering the legions of people the fireworks bring to the area, hard to believe the local businesses didn't step up. The other explanation I heard was that we are in a drought and to blow off the fireworks, they have to have a lot of water on hand in case something goes awry.  We had Noah's Ark type rain this year and the fireworks are set off on a boat in the bay.  So all they would need to have water would be some buckets.


But because there were no fireworks, everyone and their dog, Rollo, took it upon themselves to light up their own backyards.  Our neighbors on the other side of the alley had a party, complete with non stop screaming and music, that went on all day and into the night.


At one point, whatever they were setting off over there was being tossed out of the compound in which they live and into our yards, frightening cats, dogs, bunnies in hutches and old nuns. Sister St. Aloysius was convinced that the next cherry bomb could touch off a brush fire or blow a hole in our already porous roof.  She convinced me to call the police.  


I called the non-emergency number. They never answered, but the party finally shut down just after midnight. If there had been fireworks over the bay, I'm sure there would have been a lot less crime, what with everyone preoccupied "oooing" and much less need to try a homemade 4th of July show. Meanwhile, we offered up our suffering to the Poor Souls in Purgatory.  The roof is fine. Which brings us to today's question from a reader.


Sister,
Could you please tell me you is the patron saint of broken homes in need of repair?

Thank you!


I hope you mean the house is in need of repair and not the people inside that make it a home. Of course, that would be our dear step father in Heaven, St. Joseph. He is the patron saint of all things building related.

There has been much arguing in recent years, that St. Joseph was not a carpenter, but a stone mason. To which I say, "Whatever."  Clearly he was building something. If all the holy cards showing him carving table legs while Mary made lunch for Jesus are wrong, who cares?  If he was out building houses and walls, Mary still had to make lunch for the Holy Family while Joseph worked.

I would also recommend Blessed Brother Andre of Montreal, although his claim to saintly fame is that he prayed for the intercession of St. Joseph so faithfully that the Oratory of St. Joseph was built.  Seeing the Oratory in real life gives you the feeling that you've arrived at the top of the beanstalk and found the Giant's house. At one point, the Oratory building project had run out of money, with only the dome roof to go. Brother Andre suggested that they put the statue of St. Joseph out there with no roof and if he (St. Joseph) felt the need for a roof, he would have one built. So the roof went right on there.


St. Joseph didn't want to stand around in the rain.


P.S. Even if you meant the other kind of repair, St. Joseph had a lot to reconcile to make his house a home. So, either way....

To Saint or Not to Saint

Here's a little brain teaser for you all!  Yesterday, when I was writing about St. Catherine of Alexandria, I was trying to think of a modern equivalant, not of her martyrdom and sainthood, but of her life of knowledge and influence leading up to it.  I used Mother Teresa as an example, but only because she was the only woman I could think of who wouldn't raise a single eyebrow and a pillar of wisdom (except for Christopher Hitchens' eyebrows).


I still can't think of anyone.  Can you?


Meanwhile I caused even more confusion:
I didn't realize Catherine of Aragon is a saint. Who knew!? I'm kind of new at this saint stuff, so I have a lot to learn. 


You didn't realize it, because she isn't a saint, officially, although she may well be a saint.  I know that makes the whole mishmash even more confusing, since the cake named for her is called "St. Cattern's cake". I believe two things caused that.


First, Catherine of Aragon was a very nice lady, who didn't deserve what happened to her. As a result, she was admired the way a saint is admired, the same way someone might say, "My sainted mother", even though their mother has never been canonized.


If their mother is dead and in heaven, and if Catherine of Aragon is in Heaven, she is a saint.  That's the whole criteria for sainthood: dead+in Heaven.  Everyone who is in Heaven is a saint. By canonizing someone, the Church is declaring that the person is definitely in Heaven.  

Second, it became a tradition to make St. Cattern's cake on the feast day of St. Catherine of Alexandria.


Perhaps the fact that the official portrait of St. Catherine of Aragon so closely resembles an artist's imagination of St. Catherine of Alexandria just makes everything all the more confusing. 

Spinning the Tale of St. Catherine

No, no, it's St Cattern who is the patron saint of lacemakers - I remember reading about her, there is even a Cattern's Day cake you can bake.


I can see I've got some s'plainin' to do.  To begin with, there is no "St. Cattern".  St. Cattern, as in the cake, refers to St. Catherine, specifically (as there is more than one St. Catherine), St. Catherine of Alexandria.


St. Catherine of Alexandria had nothing to do with making lace (although you are correct that she is listed as a patron saint of lacemakers....we'll get to that).  She was thought to be one of the most intelligent women of her time.  She was so well respected and her thoughts were heeded by so many, today she would be known as a trend setter and would no doubt have a blog and a web site.  This all proved to be her undoing.  Or doing, so to speak, since ultimately, martyrdom is a good thing.


When she converted to Christianity people followed.  So she was arrested.  But she was so well thought of and popular, no one really wanted to see her in jail.  It was as though someone threw Mother Teresa in jail.  So they sent people to go in there and talk her out of all this Christianity nonsense.  They all left converted.  This happened more than once.


She had to go. They brought in a wheel. The plan was to tie her to the wheel and just drive away with her until spinning on the wheel killed her. I guess. That or they would have had to hang the wheel on something and spin it like the wheel on "Wheel of Fortune" until she died. The statue of St. Catherine of Alexandria that we have in my childhood parish has spikes on the outside of it, so I always imagined that she would be tied to the outside of the wheel and stabbed and run over. But then you wouldn't really need to spikes to kill her, would you?

I finally found this explanation of the "wheel" that made some sense:
 She was placed in a machine, composed of four wheels, connected together and armed with sharp spikes, so that as they revolved the victim might be torn to pieces.


It doesn't matter anyhow, because as soon as they brought her over to the wheel (or the wheel machine, as it were) it miraculously smashed to pieces. So the wheel never did anything to her. She was then taken to the outskirts of town where she was beaten and beheaded.


But our lacemaking, cake making story does not end there.


St. Catherine's Day heralds the beginning of winter. On St. Catherine's day young girls and old maids pray for the intercession of St. Catherine to find a husband. The young ones say this:"Lord, give me a well-situated husband. Let him be gentle, rich, generous, and pleasant!"


If time marches on she prays:
"Lord, one who's bearable, or who can at least pass as bearable in the world!"


And finally, if the parade is really passing by:
"Send whatever you want, Lord; I'll take it!"

What does all of this have to do with lace? Deep breath and here we go. Catherine of Aragon was said to have burned all her lace so that the poor lace makers would have more work to do. Isn't that nice? And St. Cattern cakes are actually named for her. Somehow, St. Catherine of Aragon and St. Catherine of Alexandria's particulars got all stirred up together with cake and lace.


And wheels.  Wheels are used for spinning and products of spinners are used to make lace.


Which is why I would go with St. Clare, who actually did some tatting.


And one last thing.  St. Cattern cake is not cake unless you are British.  In the same way we have trunks on our cars and they have boots, they have cake and we have bread.  St. Cattern cake is actually a kind of bread.