It was a cold morning at 6 a.m. one day in the early 1960s when I first met the late Msgr. William J. Rodgers as an altar boy for Mass in St. Patrick’s Church, Kent Ave., Fort Greene. “Introibo ad altare Dei. Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.” He was praying the Tridentine Mass in beautiful ecclesiastical Latin, and I was a Latin newbie fascinated by the language and the ritual of the Mass.
Catholic Schools Week is upon us once again. Held annually since 1974 during the last week of January, the event gives us the opportunity to celebrate not only the nearly 45,000 students in our Catholic elementary and secondary schools and academies, but also the almost 2,000 administrators, faculty and staff members who fill our school classrooms, offices, cafeterias, laboratories, gymnasiums, auditoriums, play yards, athletic fields, libraries, study halls and resource areas as well.
The release of Vittorio Messori’s book, “Kidnapped by the Vatican?: The Unpublished Memoirs of Edgardo Mortara” has brought to light an important event in the history of the Roman Catholic Church in the 19th century.
A few days after Christmas, I battled the crowds at Rockefeller Center to see the large tree, and the St. Patrick’s Cathedral Christmas creche, which includes “Lex” (short for Lexington), the statue of the rector’s dog, sitting and gazing at the Christ Child.
Our mom is an incredible woman who turns 103 years old on Jan. 7. She is an example of a life well-lived and a good Christian.
After reading several pages of Thomas Moore’s recent book “The Soul Of Christmas,” I stopped to gaze out the window. I was seated by the window on the upper level of the Megabus on its southbound journey to Philadelphia. It was mid-December as I travelled to visit my nephew, Christopher, for an overnight in the City of Brotherly Love.
With the exception of Baptism, my husband and I have received all of our sacraments at Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal church, Ridgewood.
This Christmas season, as we hear about the slaughter of the innocents and the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, imagine that it is happening today. Imagine you are doing something about it.
That’s why we have Advent. It aids us in the process of spiritual de-cluttering by giving us time. Waiting for Christmas is precious and is necessary, no matter how rushed the media wants us to feel about our holiday
How is it that in the midst of our deepest trials, during the times when we feel stripped down to absolutely nothing, that we could possibly give thanks? Where does gratitude exist in times of what seems like non-existence – when no one fully comprehends the impact of what it means to be homeless except for those living without a roof over their head?
