Typical Kitchen Glocks
Tomorrow we rightly remember and honor the fallen, today we celebrate the holy and undivided Trinity. Part of that, here at the Compound, means welcoming assorted soldiery on a weekend pass from Fort Hood. One of them, my eldest, is even a Sergeant, which seems very strange.
Perhaps you remember when Sergeants seemed pretty old. Now they're not, they're ludicrously young and full of youthful energy. That in mind, let the reader understand, would the NCO Club make it to Mass this morning?
Good question, and after Mass #1 at 0945 the Manse was ominously silent, like two minutes silence silent. You'll be pleased to know I resisted the heady urge to charge upstairs beating a wake up drum armed with a pick-axe handle, and brewed strong coffee instead. Let the kids rest, I thought to myself on the back deck, after all, they run around all week, so.
Then, irenic reverie over, lo and behold, there's a team in the dining room struggling into two button blazers and khakis. Why they couldn't do this in their rooms is and remains a mystery, but still, there it was and not bad for all that. And off we went to Mass #2 by the lake.
I'll spare you the trinitarian homily, which was a hopefully helpful Augustine/Aquinas hybrid, but I will say this: The faithful believe that a communion of divine persons in perfect love lies at the heart of reality, that ultimate Truth is personal love which loves us. The modern heathen believe in a very different God, that reality is impersonal force. You will notice, my dear friends, that people come to resemble the deity they worship. Choose wisely.
In similar news, a churchman sent me this excellent photo after Mass, from the restaurant where he was enjoying lunch. Have a look:
We must all eat at this place, and what can we say? A free man can defend himself, a slave can't. Go ask a Red Indian or someone in the UK if you doubt me.
#2A,
LSP
