“That? That’s just a picture of Mary,” Sister Antoinette said. “That picture can’t help you, but she will, always.”
Sentry duty is what the Advent season is all about. Paying attention and keeping a weather eye, because as the days of Noah were before the flood, so shall the coming of the Son of Man be.
Although I share in it, I slightly mistrust intense affection for animals. But it’s still somewhat with me, that pang I felt a few mornings ago when I discovered that our basset hound, Atticus, had died in his sleep the night before.
I recently read two memoirs, Hannah’s Child, by Stanley Hauerwas, and Hitch-22 by Christopher Hitchens. The authors are in most ways as dissimilar as it is possible for any two creatures to be.
The card features a bold cross with an inscription emblazoned around it: “To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery.”
“Bourdon” is a rare and splendid word, not the sort of word you use every day, but certainly a word to lift your hat to, as Emily Dickinson once said of the word “phosphorescence.”
Ralph McInerny, whose body we buried there in February, liked to go for walks in Cedar Grove, too. He used to say of the cemetery a few hundred yards south of Notre Dame’s Main Building that when he walked there he felt as if he were attending a posthumous faculty meeting.…
The “preferential option for the poor,” an inescapable aspect of Church teaching since the Gospels were written.
The phrase came up in a conversation about what had happened a few hours after Denny's funeral. When Denny, Notre Dame's associate vice president for public affairs and communications, died last December, he had been the University's principal spokesperson for a decade and a half. His funeral, not surprisingly, overflowed the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, but it was a somewhat quieter and less formal occasion when several of us surrounded his grave in Cedar Grove cemetery to raise a few glasses of whiskey in gratitude for him, to honor our friendship, to share our love for him, to pray with him and to wish him God speed. The memory of that session is among the many reasons I find it awkward to speak of Denny in the past tense. It reinforces my conviction that he is dead only "at the moment," as you and I and everyone we love will some day be.…