What A Good Sunday

Are Sundays ever bad? Well they can be when you go to a church and get ambushed by wymxn priest figures, assorted space junk like hideous modern attack language, nefarious congregants and new rite nonsense. Not edifying, not at all, but there was none of that here today. No, just the Word of God proclaimed and the Sacrament of the Altar administered. 

mas gusto

Not once, not twice but three times, the last celebration of the sacrifice being a Spanish speaking Mass to which people travelled from the Metrosprawl to support Mission #1. Fr. S celebrated the sacred mysteries, Fr. D preached mas gusto, and a goodly number assisted, after which we fell back to the church hall for all kinds of delicious food.

what a delicious, good-hearted feast

What can I say. The church was full, the hall was full, the car park was full, and everyone was in great and congenial spirits. Was the Spirit present? Most definitely, for those with eyes and hearts to  see. What a great way to end our Sunday worship. Communion with the Lord and one another in the Blessed Sacrament and in the that fellowship which flows naturally from this. Beautiful.

I tell you, priests and pastors who fail to address this opportunity for the increase of God's kingdom should think again, at least in this part of the world. To that end I'm applying myself to Spanish, it's a resolution.

God bless,

LSP

Columbus Day

 

The same people who love obedience masks, enforced vaccines which don't vaccinate you, trans bathrooms, labeling parents who care about their kids' education "domestic terrorists" and on, also hate Christopher Columbus, as they hate all our cultural heroes. This makes me want to love him.

He was, after all, a great explorer and navigator who boldly went where no man, pretty much, had been before. Piri Reis and Maps of the Ancient Sea Kings aside, Columbus was breaking new ground when he set sail. Not unlike, when you think of it, space exploration today. No small thing to sail an uncharted Atlantic. Bold stuff.

So here at the Compound we celebrated with lunch at Montes Mexican diner. The Specialist ordered a hearty plate of Pinta Brisket Gorditas and I stuck with traditional Santa Maria Huevos Rancheros. Tasty as you like and then some, all washed down with strong Nina Covfefe. 

Then it was time to drive to Fort Hood and back again, a bold, courageous exercise in navigating I35 and the personally uncharted territories of Waco. A journey of exploration if you like, and not bad for it.

But seriously, put yourself in the place of Columbus, sailing off into the unknown. Driven by ambition and the hope of gain, yes; after all, who doesn't want to be Governor of, ahem, Cuba. But also by adventure, perhaps the sheer life and death risk of the thing. And for him, at least, faith in the Savior he served, albeit imperfectly. 

That in mind, it's a good day to celebrate and if our trending tofu Maoists don't like it, too bad. They can speak to the monkey.

Cheers,

LSP