Angeli et amici: In festo Sancti Dávidis a Cambriae

Now mind you, I have absolutely positively nothing against Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center and its "Cycle for Survival" (whatever frivolous fundraising function that might be) but on the first of March the Empire State Building should not be lit orange/orange/orange but rather green/red/white in honor of the Welsh nation on the occasion of its patronal feast, St. David of Wales.

 

From the venerable and veracious Catholic Encyclopedia: "Bishop and Confessor, patron of Wales. He is usually represented standing on a little hill, with a dove on his shoulder. From time immemorial the Welsh have worn a leek on St. David's day, in memory of a battle against the Saxons, at which it is said they wore leeks in their hats, by St. David's advice, to distinguish them from their enemies. He is commemorated on 1 March. The earliest mention of St. David is found in a tenth-century manuscript Of the "Annales Cambriae", which assigns his death to A.D. 601. Many other writers, from Geoffrey of Monmouth down to Father Richard Stanton, hold that he died about 544, but their opinion is based solely on data given in various late "lives" of St. David, and there seems no good reason for setting aside the definite statement of the "Annales Cambriae", which is now generally accepted. Little else that can claim to be historical is known about St. David. The tradition that he was born at Henvynyw (Vetus-Menevia) in Cardiganshire is not improbable. He was prominent at the Synod of Brevi (Llandewi Brefi in Cardiganshire), which has been identified with the important Roman military station, Loventium. Shortly afterwards, in 569, he presided over another synod held at a place called Lucus Victoriae. He was Bishop (probably not Archbishop) of Menevia, the Roman port Menapia in Pembrokeshire, later known as St. David's, then the chief point of departure for Ireland. St. David was canonized by Pope Callistus II in the year 1120. This is all that is known to history about the patron of Wales. His legend, however, is much more elaborate, and entirely unreliable."

 

So simply skipping over the pious premise that he was an uncle to King Arthur and other inventive inaccuracies meant to support the claims of the Welsh episcopate's independence from the see of St. Augustine at Canterbury let us turn quickly to a couple of cute and quaint customs (mainly culinary) wherein devotedly and domestically this feast may be solemnized.  Firstly we have the delightfully dainty daffodil, Amaryllidoideae Narcissus, the Welsh national flower, which is worn on this day. Not only is particularly prettier (confer its scientific name above) it will not be maliciously malodorous in complete contradistinction to other the national emblem, which appeared on the coronation gown of Queen Elizabeth II, the Amaryllidaceae Allioideae, the lavishly lovely leek. Whichever variety of vegetation is victorious in completing one's holy haberdashery an entertaining extension of this delicious devotion would be to grow the particular plant at least in pot on the windowsill. Those with a modest modicum of artistic ability may daringly draw and decorate said conventional containers cleverly with vicarious visuals such as the Flag of Wales and the Flag of Saint David. Then there are totally tasty treats, the recipes which are available on wales.com, such as Cawl, a traditional Welsh soup; Bara Brith, a rich fruit loaf made with tea (sometimes known as 'speckled bread'); Glamorgan Sausages; Welsh Rarebit;and the scone-like Welsh Cakes.

 

Of course one can simply refresh the palate with a potent pint of Welsh Ale that might be making the rounds for the national day. After dropping off a big box of leeks at 350 Fifth Avenue.

Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In Feria Sexta Quattuor temporum

Those divinely domiciled in the delightful Diocese of bustling Bismarck should by now be amicably acquainted with the Ember Days. For those not so fortunately favored, His Excellency, Most Reverend David Kagan gives a succinctly sanguine summary which may be accessed here: http://bismarckdiocese.com/dakota-catholic-action/bishopsbriefs/EmberDays/ (There is a minor mistake about the number of Rogation Days but that is the subject of another e-pistle come Paschaltide). In addition to being devoted days of fasting, Quarter Tense are also designated days of abstinence. So while I don't know how many Japanese restaurants there are in the capital of North Dakota let us go to the diminutive Diocese of bucolic Brooklyn if for no other reason that there are several dozen eateries to choose from while continuing this ecclesiolgical exposition. Lovingly led by the resilient and redoubtable Francis Xavier, the brave Black Robes of the Company of Jesus arrived with the enterprising Explorers of the Sixteenth Century to a very feudal Japan. The one definitively defining trait that has surely simultaneously singlehandly both gotten out of and into a whole holy heap of trouble Jesuits of every generation is that of inculturation. Gastronomic gratitude is great because this example worked out well. On the days of Las Temporas the good Fathers ate no meat, only seafood, therefore the Japanese Christians developed the tasty treat known as tempura.

 

And so that's the answer to the question: "What are we having for lunch today?"
Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: Conscientia mea iterum atque iterum coram Deo explorata ad cognitionem certam perveni vires meas ingravescente aetate non iam aptas esse ad munus Petrinum aeque administrandum.

Recently a certain little altar boy was offered a job, a promotion of sorts especially in terms of wardrobe, but one promptly, emphatically and unreservedly turned it down. "If I accept then every time I open my mouth I wouldn't be positively automatically infallible!"

 

Verily it has been quite a spell since this twerpy typist resorted to the e-pistolary format beloved and revered by the esteemed readership and for this one must apoplectically apologize. Not that one has run out of fresh ideas (and one indubitably has a few of those!) but unfortunately various villainous vicissitudes have been allowed to unfortunately underwhelm a somewhat silly scribe. Since an exhausting endearing expostulation is accessibly available upon request from the amply addled archives of Arkham Asylum  I won't bore you with distracting details. In other words, to piously paraphrase another cartoon character, "This looks like a job for Screwtape!"

 

Salus animarum suprema lex est. Now if there is one thing that this ridiculous redactor despicably detests that is supreme sanctimoniousness. In the immanently inscrutable designs of Divine Providence one has had a tantalizingly tiny educational experience in the incomprehensible illness so one is not so warily wise in simply stating, along with an illustrious luminary such as Saint John Bosco, "I want no long-faced saints". This then, perhaps, is the divinely defining moral maxim of this entertaining e-postolate (and this by empirical extension this annoyingly alliterative acolyte) that we should not be above spraying soda out our nostrils while learning a practical lesson from the catechism, late night or otherwise.

 

So let's get bouncing back on the theological track to holy Heaven. And if you notice another dastardly dereliction of duty by this manic Manhattanite please feel free to slap him silly. Ouch! What? Not enough auxiliary adjectives?

Mr. Screwtape