Sunday Comms

 

There we were on the back porch, just me, Old Blue and a razor sharp kukri. Typical, maybe a glass of well chilled wine was involved. Then the sat phone rang. Yes, it was the Wolf.

"Are you able to pay full time clergy or is it all volunteer, like the Mormons?" I thought about this for maybe a second, "No, we're all good in this diocese, unlike, say, the Episcopalians. They're running out of cash to pay full time pastorenes. Go figure."

"Maybe this will help," offered LL with an infovid of PMC WAGNER recruiting out of some penal colony. "Good call. We'll bus those convicts straight to the homes of Episcopalien bishops. Kinda like sanctuary cities but house church."

"Exactly," said the Wolf, who proceeded to lay out preliminary plans for the operation. All well and good, then a rambunctious soldier burst through the back door, full of youthful high spirits allied to fitness, "Hey Dad, how's it going!" I stared into his EyePros. "Everything's good, kid, we're just fixing to solve a clergy staffing crisis. Working title? OPERATION MARTHA'S VINEYARD."

Have a beautiful Sunday.

Cheers,

LSP

You Can't Serve God And Mammon

 

Mammon. The name itself connotes a kind of vast deadness and it's typically translated as wealth or riches. Nothing wrong with those, may everyone have nice things, but when wealth becomes the logic, criteria and end of our lives, when it's served and worshiped as God? Then it becomes an idol and an enslaving beast.

St. John Chrysostom likens followers of this false deity to dogs chained to a tomb. Here he is:

For though none of these things should come to pass, says He, you will undergo no small harm, in being nailed to the things below, and in becoming a slave instead of a freeman, and casting yourself out of the heavenly things, and having no power to think on anything that is high, but all about money, usuries and loans, and gains, and ignoble traffickings. Than this what could be more wretched? For in truth such an one will be worse off than any slave, bringing upon himself a most grievous tyranny, and giving up the chiefest thing of all, even the nobleness and the liberty of man. For how much soever any one may discourse unto you, you will not be able to hear any of those things which concern you, while your mind is nailed down to money; but bound like a dog to a tomb, by the tyranny of riches, more grievously than by any chain, barking at all that come near you, you have this one employment continually, to keep for others what you have laid up. Than this what can be more wretched?

 

Infernal Mammon waxes large today, it's in the deadly air we breathe. Stand fast against it; fix heart and soul on the true God, pray to Him in adoration and contrition, loving Him simply for what He is in Himself. I find the Jesus Prayer helps, "Lord Jesus, I love you, have mercy on me a sinner." In the face of this the idol Mammon seems at best tawdry, repellent and absurd.

Then, from adoration of the Savior, ask for the illumination and discernment to use our wealth, such as it is, for the love of God and neighbor. Then do it, concretely, tangibly. For some, this means total renunciation of worldly goods. For all, the giving of our substance to the glory of God and the service, the love, of our neighbor. Do these things; break the power of the infernal idol and store up treasure in heaven. 

Here endeth the Saturday sermon.

Sicut erat in principio,

LSP

Off To The Vineyard!

Ever notice those espousing we give up a little so those without can have some (which is socialism) are rich? (WSF)

Have you noticed how Florida and Texas are sending their immigrants to sanctuary cities and the ritzy retreats of our beloved ruling class, like Martha's Vineyard? You know, the Vineyard, where all the prophets of climate change flooding set up in millionaire socialist mansions, by the sea.

Sure you have and so have they, and guess what? They don't want illegals in their backyards. Well you can't blame them, but you can say NIMBY, virtue signalling, corrupt, mendacious, profiteering, mountebank hypocrites. Right?

Go on, DeSantis and Abbott, let's see moar planes, trains and buses full of immigrants land right on the manicured lawns of their summer seaside mansions. Ship 'em in. And who knows, some might even find work as servants, maids, gardeners and beyond.

You can't serve God and Mammon.

Cheers,

LSP

Honky Tonk Heroes

 

Honky Tonk Heroes and all hail Waylon and the rest of those outlaws. Speaking of which, I sent HTH to a rock 'n roll pal. His reply? Waylon ROCKS. Yes indeed, forever.

In other compelling news, the pillow guy's been raided by the Stasi FBI for daring to oppose our beloved rulers. About time! What a total Fascist. So take note, oppose our beloved Uniparty and get swatted, or hauled off to jail or kept in solitary for years without trial or whatever punishment fits your heinous crime.

Yes. Enemies of the State should expect nothing less and that's what we mean by tolerance and freedom. Obey us, or we crush you, in the name of the Rainbow. But what hides behind the gaily colored mane, glittering horn and gently thudding hooves? Surely not profit and insatiable greed, a beautiful house in the Vineyard, Mammon.

Ah, Mammon and the insatiable gullet of raytheon lockheed avarice. Consider it, the name Mammon connotes, in my mind at least, a kind of deadness. Vast, huge, and dead, but I won't bang on.

Gentlemen and women, do you remember Our Lord's admonition? Viz. You cannot serve God and Mammon. Choose wisely my friends. One way leads to life, the other leads to death.

Caveat,

LSP

SSC

 

What a busy couple of days, driving from the safe haven of the North Central Exclusion Zone into the brawling streetfight that is the DFW Metrosprawl connurb, a Mega City larger than Connecticut itself, wherever that is. Why?

To go to the SSC provincial Synod, which is an assembly of priests dedicated to asserting Catholic Faith for our part of God's holy Church. We met in Southlake for worship, teaching and fellowship and it's been a great thing to meet up with brothers in the Faith.

Originally, the SSC began in England as a priestly society bound together by a common rule of life, to promote the Faith in its fullness, what did this look like? Glorious liturgy, yes, but with that the founders of the society were renowned, seriously, for their work amongst the poor of East London. Not least in the cholera epidemic of 1865.

That spirit's alive today. What does it mean to be an Anglican? we ask, and the answer's, "A Catholic Christian." With that goes the admonition, "I was hungry and you fed me," and, "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon."

So there you have it. Ma LSP returned from Wales today and was pleased to find her house burnished, clean and water on. We must take our victories, gentlemen and women, as we find them.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Queen Elizabeth II Lies in State in Scotland

 

People forget that Great Britain, in itself, is an Empire, the centralized power of Scotland, Wales, England and, tenuously, Ireland. Knowing this, Her Majesty lay in state in Edinburgh tonight.

Later, her body will be brought to Westminster Abbey where many thousands will line up around the block to pay their respects. And what respect it is.

HRH Elizabeth II embodied privilege and with it, service. That's the equation and she most evidently worked the solution. Result? The people loved her. Moral?

No one likes or loves the grifting, get rich quick, MillSoc mountebank, snake oil sales fools who run our country. Imagine, if you can, their funerals. Mall. Lampost. Noose.

Salve Regina,

LSP

Good Church

 

What good church this morning. That is all,

LSP

Benedict Option - Thoughts

 

Have you heard of Rod Dreher's Benedict Option, in which the author suggests Christians set up communities to preserve the culture, tradition, sanity and virtue of the West, of the Church herself, in a sea of barbarism? No matter if you haven't, the idea's not new, think "righteous remnant."

All that and more in mind, we heard a talk on just this at Mission #2 this morning. Good stuff, and big thanks to our Baylor doctoral speaker for giving it. But let's get down to practical solutions. Here we are in a sea of apostasy and secularism, it's the air we breathe. And with that, we're fragmented, atomized.

Case in point. Set up your local church as a true community of faith and sanity against the rising tide of increasingly obvious barbaric wickedness. Good call, but how, when your church is spread across territory half the width of Wales, in Texas. Hardly the local solution Dreher recommends. Problem.

Solution? Catastrophe. What brought Benedict of Nursia to Monte Casino? The call of God, obviously, but also the decay, devolution and catastrophic fragmentation of the Roman State. It wasn't working anymore and, in fact, had been ravaged by war, plague and just about every other terror.

So Benedict, a nobleman, renounced his wealth and withdrew, with a servant, let the reader understand, to what became the foundation stone of western monasticism and the salvation of its civilization and faith. And my point was this. 

If we're to form true counter cultural communities it might just take a disaster to force us into it. That said, wealthy patrons wouldn't hurt.

As a doomer, I wager the former, ask the dam Monkey.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Catastrophe Averted

 

It started off well, very well, totally according to plan. Roll into Dallas, check on Ma LSP's property while she's on vacation in the Old Country and make sure everything's sound for her arrival. Simple, elegant, achievable. What a great plan. Then everything fell to pieces.

First off, where's my laptop? Not in the overnight duffle, not in the rig.  No, it was sitting safe and sound in the kitchen of the Compound and useless, even with modern tech, to me in the 'Sprawl. Fail. Attention to detail, LSP, and what about personal admin? Double fail.

You Little Gusher

But no big deal, work from your cell phone, such is progress. Fine, until the next day when it was time to mow the overgrown lawn. "What's this?" I thought over the hum of Ma's nifty electric mower, "Why is the ground so wet, rain?"

Wet as in fixing to become marshland. Hunh. Then lo and behold, not rain but a mini gusher by the pecan tree. I stared at it, Bloody Mary in hand, "It's only a small gusher, maybe we can leave it alone." No. Error. Little gusher became big gusher and the yard began to flood. So I poured a stiff one, got the water turned off to house and got on the line to plumbers.

Problem

They/he came out yesterday and got the job done, fixing a split water line with Sharkbite fittings and capping off a redundant sprinkler system in the process. Good work Tribeca, prompt, personable and at a reasonable cost. Give 'em a shot if you need emergency plumbing in DFW.

Solution

Net result? Water restored to the house and catastrophe averted. Thank God for that, Ma LSP can return home to a place that isn't flooded and has running water. Result. My carefully constructed plan? Shot to hell but you know what they say, improvise, adapt, overcome. Problem? Solution.

Cheers,

LSP

Rest in Peace

 

She was, without doubt, the real deal, and with her goes the passing of an age. Rest in peace, your Majesty.

LSP

Just Driving Along

 

There we were, just me and the young soldier driving around town in the beauty of a Texan sunset.

For some reason it reminded of long ago in Detroit. There I was, pretty much fresh off the plane from London, and there he was, an older, hard-bitten looking Brit. We were at a sales meeting, eating and making oblique credential pitches.

"Good to meet someone from the Old Country," I offered, "Used to be in the British Army." He looked me in the eye, "So was I." I'd figured that, cleverly, "What'd you do?" He took a bite off a California Roll, "Sold beans to the Saudis."

"That's interesting," responded a very junior LSP, mind like a steel trap, "I left to become a priest, maybe now a Roman Catholic priest."

"You did, did you? Say the Lord's Prayer in Latin then." Which I did. After adveniat regnum tuum he grinned and admitted defeat, "That's enough, mate."

We closed that deal, for used auto industry exhibit booths, curiously. There's money in those woods, though it wasn't for me.

I file this random story under "anything else I care to think about."

Cheers,

LSP

A Jolly Medley

 

Alright there, boys

Junior

Hey now

Cheers,

LSP