Angeli et amici: In Commemoratio S. Benedicti Abbatis

In obedience to the decrees of Urban VIII. of holy memory, I protest that for all miraculous events, visions, apparitions, revelations, graces and incidents ascribed in these e-pistles to certain servants of God, which have not been formally investigated and approved by the Church, they claim no other authority and belief than that which is ordinarily conceded to narratives based upon merely human evidence, and do I in no wise presume to pronounce upon their authenticity or supernatural character; neither to the titles holy or blessed applied to the servants of God not yet canonized, except in cases where these have been confirmed by the Holy Roman Catholic Church and by the Holy Apostolic See, to whose judgment I submit myself and whatever I have written in this e-pistle and of whom I profess myself to be an obedient son.

 

The Holy Hunny Discernment Novena has generated quite a few marvelous miracles which I number among my favorites the following involving one of the delighful dasmels for whom it was originally composed. One night she went dancing and a gracious Galahad optimistically opened with a dashingly disarming "Why are you wearing a quarter around your neck?" The rest, as they say, is history.

 

The "quarter" she was wearing was actually the famous jubilee medal designed in 1880 under the supervision of the monks of Montecassino, Italy, to mark the 1400th anniversary of the birth of Saint Benedict. To liberally and extensively quote from the famous Benedictine Abbey of Collegeville, Minnesota: "The purpose of using the medal is to call down God's blessing and protection upon us, wherever we are, and upon our homes and possessions, especially through the intercession of St. Benedict. By the conscious and devout use of the medal, it becomes, as it were, a constant silent prayer and reminder to us of our dignity as followers of Christ. The medal is a prayer of exorcism against Satan, a prayer for strength in time of temptation, a prayer for peace among ourselves and among the nations of the world, a prayer that the Cross of Christ be our light and guide, a prayer of firm rejection of all that is evil, a prayer of petition that we may with Christian courage 'walk in God's ways, with the Gospel as our guide,' as St. Benedict urges us. A profitable spiritual experience can be ours if we but take the time to study the array of inscriptions and representations found on the two sides of the medal. The lessons found there can be pondered over and over to bring true peace of mind and heart into our lives as we struggle to overcome the weaknesses of our human nature and realize that our human condition is not perfect, but that with the help of God and the intercession of the saints our condition can become better. The Medal of St. Benedict can serve as a constant reminder of the need for us to take up our cross daily and 'follow the true King, Christ our Lord,' and thus learn 'to share in his heavenly kingdom,' as St. Benedict urges us in the Prolog of his Rule."

 

And they also make really neat wedding favors!

 

Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In festo S. Joseph Sponsi B.M.V. Confessoris, I. classis

Once upon a time in the sweltering summer of 1968 on the storied stoop of a tired tenement that had seen better bucolic days a small group of Puerto Rican migrants gathered to share some company including one very visibly pregnant but quite content young lady. The local boorish busybody impetuously came up and derisively scoffed, "Well there goes another one for Welfare." Forthwith a young, lean and visibly perturbed blue collar worker stood up and quite calmly replied while pointedly holding up his left hand, "Lady, Welfare didn't make that baby, I did!"

The liturgical feast day of Saint Joseph, glorious patron of the Church Universal and after whom the above proud parental protagonist (may his memory be eternal) was named after, in many Catholic countries and territories including Spain, Portugal, Liechtenstein, Canton Tincino of Switzerland, Honduras, Bolivia, Antwerp in Belgium, Andorra, and, last but not least especially in terms of this present e-pistle, Italy is designated and dignified in the civil order and properly culturally celebrated as "Father's Day".

In this year of grace 2013 this feast takes upon an additionally appropriate avocation as the day which the former Jorge Mario Cardinal Bergoglio formally and liturgically inaugurates his ministry as Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Jesus Christ, Successor of the Prince of the Apostles, Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, Primate of Italy, Archbishop and Metropolitan of the Roman Province, Sovereign of the State of Vatcian City, Servant of the Servants of God, the one and only Holy Father, Pope Francis the First. In this annoying age of sanctimonious social media there are a myriad of many voluminously vociferous voices exhaustingly expostulating obnoxious opinions both dexter and sinister and everywhere in between on the choice of the College of Cardinals in Sacred Conclave. It is not the pious place of this twerpy typist to engage such nutty nonsense (especially since one is having such a decidedly difficult time locating Albegensiens, those fun friends of Saint Dominic, to participate in pilgrimage to the feet of the first Pope who is a son of Saint Ignatius). Suffice it to say that we should fasten our seatbelts as this will be a very interesting Pontificate guiding the Barque of Peter. Perhaps the clearest indication would be the old sacristan's proverb, "A good Jesuit liturgy is one where nobody gets hurt!"

V. Oremus pro Pontifice nostro Francisco. R. Dominus conservet eum, et vivificet eum, et beatum faciat eum in terra, et non tradat eum in animam inimicorum eius. [Ps 40:3]   

Deus, omnium fidelium pastor et rector, famulum tuum Francisco, quem pastorem Ecclesiae tuae praeesse voluisti, propitius respice: da ei, quaesumus, verbo et exemplo, quibus praeest, proficere: ut ad vitam, una cum grege sibi credito, perveniat sempiternam. Per Christum, Dominum nostrum. Amen.

 

V. Let us pray for Francis, our Pope. R. May the Lord preserve him, and give him life, and make him blessed upon the earth, and deliver him not up to the will of his enemies. [Ps 40:3]

O God, Shepherd and Ruler of all Thy faithful people, look mercifully upon Thy servant Francis, whom Thou hast chosen as shepherd to preside over Thy Church. Grant him, we beseech Thee, that by his word and example, he may edify those over whom he hath charge, so that together with the flock committed to him, may he attain everlasting life. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

 Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: Tértio Nonas Januárii-Sanctæ Genovéfæ Vírginis

The third of January is a green letter day in Sister Screwtape’s Select Seminary for the Sanctification of Souls as it is the name day of an original esteemed recipient of these eccentric e-pistles. 

The Legend of the Patron Saint of the city of Paris indicates that as a young maiden she was consecrated to the Lord Christ by the holy Germanus, bishop of Auxerre and that through the ardent supplications of the pious Virgin the barbaric forces of the so-called Scourge of God and his Huns were repelled. Similarly the subject of this roast, sorry I really meant to say “toast”, was dedicated to the will of Divine Providence by means of The Holy Hunny Discernment Novena by the bearded boy bishop of Ten Eleven therefore she is in joyful felicity addressed with the appellation of Matron (and may she happily persist in said state for many more decades since among the many admirable qualities of her Prince, who hopefully by this time is able to distinguish between a numismatic representation of the Father of Occidental Monasticism and the Father of our Country, is numbered that fact that he is a great cook!) and in this Autumn just passed she and her dashing groom joyfully brought a blessed bundle to the regenerative waters of a hallowed font that is much storied (included in that number is an annoyingly alliterative acolyte). 

Also in imitation of her holy patroness, the emerald eyed seraph is in the forefront of the rogational resistance to the impious inheritors of the malicious mantle of Attila, which, in the month of the god with two faces viz. Janus, means the supremely sorrowful fortieth anniversary of an infamous intervention of the supreme black-robed platonic guardians of this land that all true children of Holy Mother Church in virtue of the sacrament of Confirmation wherein the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity has constituted them the Church Militant have an imperative duty to defy.

So as we begin this new year that was not prognosticated by poor pagan Mayans, remembering that our true homeland is the celestial Jerusalem and that we are passing through a valley of tears, don’t forget to enjoy that second slice of name day chocolate cake!

Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In Commemoratio S. Barbarae Virginis et Martyris

In the late 1960s many little girls playfully imagined that they were the purple suited, fiery wig wearing acrobatic adventurer Batgirl! Of course the tiny titans were also interestingly intrigued by her civilian identity as Police Commissioner Gordon's daughter who held the imposingly important job of Head Librarian of the Gotham City Library and whose name was Barbara.

Okay, I know that's not the most serious segue but what do you expect from this Joker? 

Switching Sixties screen symbolizations let us quoth from Around the Year with the Trapp Family by Maria Augusta Trapp regarding the Barbarazweig or Barbara Branch:  "On the fourth of December, unmarried members of the household are supposed to go out into the orchard and cut twigs from the cherry trees and put them into water. There is an old belief that whoever's cherry twig blossoms on Christmas Day can expect to get married in the following year. As most of us are always on tour at this time of the year, someone at home will be commissioned to "cut the cherry twigs." These will be put in a vase in a dark corner, each one with a name tag, and on Christmas Day they will be eagerly examined; and even if they are good for nothing else, they provide a nice table decoration for the Christmas dinner."

One of the medieval super-team known as the Fourteen Holy Helpers, St. Barbara is the patroness of artillerymen, military engineers, miners and others who work with explosives, fireworks manufacturers, firemen, stone masons and also of mathematicians; she is also invoked against sudden death, against fires, and against storms (especially lightning storms).  Her feast is celebrated by the British (Royal Artillery, RAF Armourers), Australian (Royal Regiment of Australian Artillery, RAAF Armourers), Canadian (Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technicians (EOD), Canadian Air Force Armourers, Royal Canadian Artillery, Canadian Military Field Engineers, Royal Canadian Navy Weapons Engineering Technicians), New Zealand (RNZAF Armourers, RNZA, RNZN Gunners Branch) armed forces. Additionally, it's celebrated by Irish Defence Forces Artillery Regiments, Norwegian Armed Forces Artillery Battalion, United States Army and Marine Corps Field and Air Defense Artillery, many Marine Corps Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technicians, and other Artillery formations. In art she is usually depicted as standing by a tower with three windows, carrying a palm branch and a chalice, sometimes with cannons by her side.   Biff! Bam! Kapow! Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In festo S. Andreae Apostoli

When one was a diminutive dimpled, sweetly shy, round-cheek, bright smiling, milk-chocolate-melt-your-heart-puppy-dog-eyes, little lad there was a name that already had been indelibly etched into the creative consciousness that is contained in a cute child's cranium: Andrew Carnegie. From the well stocked shelves of the local branch of the New York Public Library to the sweet strains of classical music in Carnegie Hall to the sponsorship of local PBS programming on Channel 13 the indefatigable immigrant from Scotland immanently influenced an infant imagination. Crotchety Celts and beautiful babies in the same thought can only mean that its Latha Naomh Anndra, Saint Andrew's Day.  

But we must leave realm of the Highlanders and travel to the Continent in order to cull the deeply devout devotions (or is it supremely silly superstitions?) towards the Apostle known as Prōtoklētos (First-Called) whose name in Greek means "manly". (Are we seeing a pattern here yet?) In parts of Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, Russia and Romania, the belief exists that the night before St. Andrew's Day is specially suitable time that reveals a young woman's future husband. Many related customs exist: for example, the pouring of hot lead into water (in Poland, one usually pours hot wax from a candle through a key hole into cold water), divining the future husband's profession from the shape of the resulting piece. In some areas in Austria, young women would drink wine and then recite a supplication, called Andreasgebet (Saint Andrew's prayer).  Yet another custom was to throw a clog over one's shoulder: if it lands pointing to the door, the woman will get married in the same year. In some parts of the Czech Republic and Slovakia, young women would write down the names of potential husbands  on little pieces of paper and stick these into little pieces of dough, called Halusky. When cooked, the first one to float to the surface of the water would reveal the name of their future husband. In Poland, some women put pieces of paper (on which they have written potential husbands) under the pillow and first thing in the morning they take one out, which allegedly reveals their future husband. In Romania, it is customary for young women to put forty-one grains of wheat beneath their pillow before they go to sleep, and if they dream that someone is coming to steal their grains that means that they are going to get married next year. Also in some other parts of the country the young women light a candle from Easter and bring it, at midnight, to a fountain and they ask St. Andrew to let them glimpse their future husband.

Now all these inane imprecations are ersatz enough to make one a wee bit thirsty. While ye Lassies are figurin' out which kooky custom will give ye yer best shot a homing in on a holy hunny, me and th' Laddies will meander over ta Loch Lomond and celebrate Saunt Andra with a dram o' scotch.

Ouch! You're supposed to throw the shoe towards the door, not me! 

Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In festo S. Catharinae Virginis et Martyris

According to myriad medieval manuscripts St. Catherine, a member of the original super powered squad known as the Fourteen Holy Helpers, was a brilliantly bright young woman of birth noble who went before his imperious Imperator Maximinus to quietly correct him for worshiping ersatz eternals and to unabashedly upbraid him for his pernicious persecution of Christians. Some of his incredibly inscrutable scholars and famously fine philosophers were canonically commissioned to definitively debate our holy heroine but she ended up confounding and converting many of them, so they were painfully put to death and Catherine was beaten and jailed. The Emperor's good wife, interestingly intrigued by Catherine, went to visit her with the leader of the Emperor's troops. They, too, (naturally) were converted and (of course) put to death. Then came Catherine's turn; she was condemned to die on the wheel, but when she touched it, it suddenly shattered. Exasperated Max had her beheaded. Legend says that the angels carried her body to Mt. Sinai, where a monastery under her patronage was established and flourishes to this day under the care of Orthodox monks. Over 1,100 years following her martyrdom, St. Catherine was identified as one of the Saints who appeared and counselled, along with St. Margaret and St. Michael, St. Joan of Arc.  Now for the fun stuff......On St. Catherine's Day, the twenty fifth of November, it is quaintly customary for unmarried women to pray for husbands, and to honor women who've reached 25 years of age but haven't married -- called "Catherinettes" in France. Catherinettes send postcards to each other, and friends of the Catherinettes make hats for them - traditionally using the colors yellow (faith) and green (wisdom), often outlandishly outrageous - and crown them for the day. Pilgrimage is made to St. Catherine's statue, and she is asked to intercede in finding husbands for the unmarried lest they "don St. Catherine's bonnet" and become spinsters. The Catherinettes are supposed to wear the hat all day long, and they are usually feted with a meal among friends. Because of this hat-wearing custom, French milliners have big parades to show off their wares on this day. The French say that before a girl reaches 25, she prays: "Donnez-moi, Seigneur, un mari de bon lieu! Qu'il soit doux, opulent, libéral et agréable!" (Lord, give me a well-situated husband. Let him be gentle, rich, generous, and pleasant!") After 25, she prays: "Seigneur, un qui soit supportable, ou qui, parmi le monde, au moins puisse passer!" (Lord, one who's bearable, or who can at least pass as bearable in the world!") And when she's pushing 30: "Un tel qu'il te plaira Seigneur, je m'en contente!" ("Send whatever you want, Lord; I'll take it!"). An English version goes, "St Catherine, St Catherine, O lend me thine aid. And grant that I never may die an old maid." And for pious pyromaniacs there is the Catherine Wheel which is a type of firework consisting of a powder-filled spiral tube, mounted with a pin through its center. When lit it rotates quickly, producing a dazzling display of spectacular sparks and captivating colored flame. Now, now Ladies, pretty please put those matches down..... I only relate the old legends, I don't always endorse them.... Really...... Mr. Screwtape

Angeli et amici: In festo S. Raphaelis Archangeli

A long time ago, in an eparchy far, far away (well, across the East River anyway) one noticed an insignificant incident. After Dominical Divine Liturgy it was customary to have coffee and cake in the parish hall. It was time for cleanup and one of the curates began custodial duties. Then it happened! Not exactly sure what happened but something happened. One was to far away to hear distinctly but the image was indelibly etched. Apparently he was doing something wrong (could have been not separating recyclables) and the little old ladies of the parish were all over him proffering correction. 

So a tantalizingly true theophany came a-tinkling: "When a man enters the priesthood he doesn't give up the opportunity to have a wife....he gets the whole holy hen coop!"

Three, two, one.....

Now that I've safely ducked a few flying frying pans let me get to the point of this e-pistle. Often this little altar boy is sought out as a thesaurus theological trivia. Not a few delightfully dashing distaff and devout damsels some moons back piously petitioned this annoyingly alliterative acolyte to reveal who among the blessed in the celestial court would be the most potent intercessor before the terrible throne of the Trinity in the weighty matter of the sacred selection of a spouse. So that got me a-thinking and a-praying.

Thus the religious result was Mister Screwtape's Official Holy Hunny Discernment Novena! (*Imprimatur pending)

Therefore if anyone, whether devoutly discerning or pious proxy, desires to pray the miracle-working Novena (there are at least three marriages that can be credited to it, but that's a story for another day) just drop an e-mail to: mr.screwtape1011@yahoo.com 

Mr. Screwtape