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Blessed Laura Vicuña—Patroness of Abuse Victims

Blessed Laura Vicuña—Patroness of Abuse Victims

Laura Vicuña was born on April 5, 1891, to a man named Joseph Domenico Vicuña. Joseph came from a family of Chilean aristocrats. Laura’s mother, Mercedes Pino,  was the daughter of farmers. Joseph Vicuna had married a woman who was considered “beneath him.” As a result, his family disowned him.

Mercedes and her daughters, Laura and Julia, were okay while Joseph was alive. However, civil war broke out in Chile and quickly spread to Santiago. The family fled to Temuco, but a short time later, Joseph was killed in battle. Everything changed for Mercedes and her daughters. As far as her husband’s family was concerned, Mercedes did not even exist. Despised and rejected by the aristocratic Vicuna clan, Mercedes took her two daughters and moved to Argentina.

When Mercedes arrived in Argentina, she quickly discovered that work was not plentiful and life could turn hard. A local rancher, named Manuel Mora, sensed Mercedes’ vulnerabilities and offered her a job working for him. However, it was not a job where you could go home every day. On the contrary, Mercedes was told that she would have to live with Mora at the ranch. Manuel Mora also told Mercedes that if she agreed to live with him, he would send Laura to school, where she would be taught by the nuns. Marriage was not an option.

Mercedes weighed her options and knew in her heart that moving in with Manuel and sleeping together was wrong. But she desperately wanted her daughters to receive a Catholic education. She knew that she could never afford to send them to the Catholic school. So she moved into Manuel Mora’s ranch with her children.

When Laura was of age, Manuel kept his promise and had Laura enrolled in the school run by the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians (Salesian Sisters of Don Bosco). Before long, Laura began developing a deep love for the Catholic faith. She began spending extended periods of time in prayer and learning all she could about Jesus and the Blessed Mother.

Written in her First Communion notebook were the words, “Oh my God, I want to love and serve you all my life. I give you my soul, my heart, my whole self.” She became so pious that many of her classmates began to ignore her. She even tried to join the Salesians, but she was only ten and was told that she would have to wait until she was a bit older.

Laura loved her school, but her joy at being a student there turned to concern and worry when she returned home for vacation. She now realized that her mother was living with Manuel as his wife. She knew this was a sinful thing to do and began praying that her mom would leave Mora and once again follow God’s commandments.

 

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Laura Vicuña is on the right in the third row.

 

Manuel beat Laura severely several times to make her forget about becoming a nun

She was a child of eleven years of age, and Manuel Mora, who probably already harbored lust for the growing girl, heard that she had voiced a desire to become a nun. Enraged at this idea, Manuel beat Laura severely several times to make her forget about becoming a nun. He told her and her mother that if she did not forget the “ridiculous idea” of becoming a nun, he would stop paying for her education with the Salesians. The nuns heard of this and told Mercedes that both of her daughters would have full scholarships to the school and that there was no need for worry.

But Laura was worried about her mom’s soul. She remembered what Jesus had said: “No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends.”  Laura decided to give her own life in exchange for her mom’s salvation. She asked Jesus to take her so her mom could be saved. Soon after, the child became seriously ill with pulmonary tuberculosis.

 

She told her mother, “Mama, I offer my life for you.”

Laura’s health quickly deteriorated. Before she passed away, she told her mom, “Mama, I offer my life for you. Before I die, mother, would I have the joy of seeing you repent?”

Her mother cried out, “I swear I will do whatever you ask of me! God is the witness of my promise.”

Laura smiled and said, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Mary. Goodbye, Mother, now I die happy.”

Laura Vicuña, weakened by beatings from Manuel Mora, died from her illness on January 22, 1904. She had not reached her thirteenth birthday. She was beatified by Pope St. John Paul II on September 3, 1988  She is a patroness of abuse victims, incest victims, and children who have suffered the loss of their parents.

Blessed Laura Vicuna, please pray for us.


Copyright©Larry Peterson 2023
Image: Wikimedia Commons, Public domain

He Loved God, Family, and Country

Joseph Verbis Lafleur was born in Villa Platte, Louisiana, on January 24, 1912. He was the fourth child born to Agatha Dupre and Valentine Lafleur. When Joe was a young boy, he began telling his mom that he would grow up and be a priest. He was so sure of his calling that he became an altar boy at the age of seven.

“I want to be a priest. Can you help me?”

During the early 1920s, the family came upon hard times and were forced to move to Opelousas, about 20 miles from Ville Platte. Their new parish would be St. Landry Catholic Church. The pastor was Father A. B. Colliard. The priest quickly sensed something special about young Joe and paid close attention to him. When Joe was 14, he nervously approached Father Colliard and said to him, “Father, I want to become a priest. Can you help me?”

Father Colliard happily agreed to help young Joseph. First, he met with Joe and his mom. After receiving her approval, the priest made arrangements for her son to enter St. Joseph’s Minor Seminary in St. Benedict. From there, Joe moved on to attend Notre Dame Major Seminary in New Orleans.

Joseph Lafleur never doubted for a moment his calling to serve as a priest. He received the Sacrament of Holy Orders from Archbishop Joseph Rummel of New Orleans. On April 5, 1938, Father Lafleur celebrated his first Solemn High Mass at St. Landry’s, his home parish. He was then assigned to St. Mary Magdalene Catholic Church in Abbeville as an assistant pastor.

Army Air Corps Chaplain

While still an assistant pastor at St. Mary Magdalene Church, he joined the Army Air Corps. The year was 1941, and the United States was months away from the attack on Pearl Harbor.

In July of 1941, Father Lafleur was sent to Albuquerque, New Mexico. His unit was the 19th Bombardment Group. Four months later, the 19th arrived at Clark Field in the Philippines, about 60 miles from Manila. Father Joe had told his mom before leaving that he “volunteered because all those other men being drafted had no choice.”

Just as it was at St. Mary Magdalene’s parish, Father Joe went about trying to organize activities for the men on base. He would organize baseball games for the men who wanted to play baseball. He wanted to start a Holy Name Society for the men. He organized discussion groups so the guys could share their feelings of loneliness being away from home and family. His mind was always focused on helping the men, mentally and spiritually. He wrote his sister, Edna, that “once I get back to Louisiana, I will never leave again. But I am not sorry I came here.”

Last Letter Home

That was the last letter the family ever received from him. On December 7, Pearl Harbor was attacked. Clark Field in the Philippines was struck shortly after. Life was forever changed for Father Joseph Lafleur and many others on December 8, 1941. In May of 1942, the Japanese conquered Mindanao, and the last of the American soldiers on the island were taken prisoner. Among them was Father Joseph Lafleur.

POW

From May of 1942 until September of 1944, Father Joe never ceased ministering to his fellow POWs. He contracted malaria several times and refused medicine because he believed others needed it more than he did. He sold his watch and eyeglasses to the locals to procure more food for his brother prisoners. He even managed to build a small chapel, called St. Peter in Chains, where Catholic and non-Catholics alike could attend daily Mass. The ongoing, upbeat love and care he showed others influenced many.

A POW named Bill Lowe had abandoned his Baptist faith. He watched how Father Joe never gave in and never despaired. He was always upbeat, loving Jesus, and doing his best to spread the Good News. When Lowe returned home, he became Catholic, and his son grew up to become a Catholic priest and Air Force chaplain. Lowe reported that many became Catholic because of Father Joe’s example.

He gave his own life to save 83 men

On September 7, 1944, while being transported on a Japanese ship to Japan with 750 other Americans, the ship was struck by torpedoes fired by an American submarine. The sub’s captain and crew had no idea Americans were on board. Father Joe could have gotten off, but refused until as many were saved as possible. He was credited with saving at least 83 men by helping them get out and swim to shore.

Father Joseph Verbis Lafleur leaves behind an unbridled legacy of love and compassion for others, including the Catholic faith he loved so much. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross (twice), the Bronze Star, and the Purple Heart.

On September 5, 2020, he was declared a Servant of God when Bishop John Douglas Deshotel opened his cause for beatification in the Diocese of Lafayette (Louisiana).


Copyright © Larry Peterson 2021

Did you know that St. Bernard dogs are named after a real saint? Meet St. Bernard of Menthon

By Larry Peterson

Menthon Castle stands on the shore of Lake Annecy in a mountainous region that borders Italy, France, and Switzerland. Bernard was most likely born in the castle around the year 1020. He was born into a rich and noble family and, growing up, wanted for nothing. His parents, Richard and Bernoline, hired a man named Germain to be Bernard’s tutor.

Germain taught the boy to read and write, and was extremely diligent in teaching him religion and the prayers and devotions that were part of it. One of the most influential aspects of Germain’s curriculum was spontaneous hikes up into the mountains. These hikes would leave a deep impression on Bernard, more so than Germain could have ever imagined.

When Bernard was a bit older, he was sent to Paris to complete his education. While completing his studies, his parents arranged a marriage for their son. They had no idea that their boy was focused in a different direction. When he arrived home, he refused the marriage offer and told his parents that he was going to pursue the religious life.

(Legend has it that Bernard had to sneak from the castle the night before the arranged wedding and that during his escape he fell from a window 40 feet above the ground. The story goes on to say that Bernard was caught by angels and gently lowered to the ground, unhurt.) Most likely, he managed to escape the castle in a more traditional manner.

The historical story has Bernard arriving home, sitting down with his parents, and telling them his intentions to pursue a religious life. He was going to place himself under the guidance of Peter, the Archdeacon of Aosta, and begin his studies for the priesthood. His parents gave him their blessing. Bernard went to live with Peter, and Peter’s house became Bernard’s seminary.

The exact year of Bernard’s ordination is unknown. What is known is that after he was ordained, his ministry took him into the Alps, where challenging work awaited him. And so, among the peaks of the Alpine mountains, Bernard began working as a missionary.

Although the Diocese of Aosta extended into the Alps, Catholicism had made little inroad into the remote alpine valleys, and most folks living there were still pagan and adhered to various customs, most a combination of Christian and pagan. These isolated regions would be Beranrds parish for the next 42 years.

Bernard traveled through the treacherous mountains preaching the Gospel anywhere he could. Small towns were in isolated locations, and farms were scattered among these tiny towns. Bernard quickly learned of the dangers of Alpine travel. He would often come across pilgrims from Germany or France who were on their way to Rome and whose companions had been swept away by an avalanche or died from exposure in the freezing mountains. Bernard, to help these travelers, opened a monastery and hospice in what is now known as Great St. Bernard Pass. It is 8,100 feet above sea level.

In due time, Bernard was appointed to succeed his mentor, Peter, as the Archdeacon of the Cathedral. This was no honorary appointment. The appointment also meant he was in charge of the government of the diocese, directly under the bishop. It was a powerful position, and Bernard, filled with virtue and learning, was perfect for the post.

Since the most ancient times, the paths across the Pennine Alps has been covered with snow anywhere from seven to ten feet high, with snowdrifts as high as forty feet. Eventually, Bernard opened a second monastery, which became known as the Little St. Bernard Pass. This was 7,076 feet above sea level.

Bernard’s monks had large dogs they had trained to help them find lost and injured travelers or the bodies of those that had perished in the brutally cold weather. These dogs became known as St. Bernards. (Another legend is that Bernard’s parents were among pilgrims rescued by these dogs).

St. Bernard’s work goes on to this day. Travelers are still put up in the hostels created by St. Bernard. As of 2012, there are 35 professed members of Bernard’s congregation providing pastoral care to nearby parishes and travelers from all over the world.

Bernard was canonized a saint by Pope Innocent XI in 1681. Pope Pius XI, an avid mountain climber, named St. Bernard the patron saint of mountaineers in 1923. St. Bernard is also the patron of skiers, snowboarders and rock climbers. His feast day is May 28.

St. Bernard, please pray for us.

copyright©Larry Peterson 2020

The Strange Paradox of COVID-19: Saving the lonely by making them lonelier

I have learned that loneliness has no boundaries. It reaches out for everyone and captures many of the unsuspecting, including the seemingly happy, satisfied, and successful. Yes, loneliness is capable of dragging the lonely into a world of hidden misery and often depression. It can attack anyone at any time, and it has become a social condition of almost epidemic proportions.

I have been widowed twice and know full well how loneliness can occupy a unique place in the widowed equation. Loneliness also reaches out and captures those who may have lost a child, a parent, a sibling, or even a dear friend. I carry the loneliness package from all of those.

Suddenly, loneliness has been gifted with a new victim to feast on: It can now extend its ravenous appetite into the pandemic known as COVID-19, AKA the coronavirus.  Loneliness is about to ravage the senior citizen in ways never imagined. One way will be to take away their chairs and sofas.

I have been bringing Holy Communion to the homebound on Sundays for over twenty years. It may be the most uplifting thing I do, and I know I have been spiritually rewarded many times over. One Sunday in early March, I confronted a new wrinkle in my visits. Virginia (age 98) resides in an independent living apartment. It is a reasonably long walk from the parking lot to the building entrance. Once there, you use a keypad to gain access. I scroll to Virginia’s name and get her on the speaker. She buzzes me in.

As the sliding doors open, I stop short. No one is there. Every Sunday, there are four or five, maybe six, people in the lobby sitting around chatting and just visiting with each other. They know my name, and I always get a friendly welcome from them. We exchange a few pleasantries (I usually joke about something), and then I go on my way.

But this Sunday no one is there. I just stood there because it took me a few seconds to realize that no one was there because the furniture was gone. The lobby was empty. There was no sofa, or chairs, or coffee table. They had been removed, and there was no place to sit and talk. This was done courtesy of the management “protecting” the residents against COVID-19 or coronavirus. We must keep the elderly SAFE. No problem; just keep them in their rooms — ALONE.

The situation impacted me deeply. I have been visiting the sick and homebound for a long time, and they do not ask for much. However, in their low-profile, quiet world, they look forward to sitting together (if possible) and just talking about whatever it is they talk about. My visit is a big deal for them. I see each of my folks for about ten minutes each, sometimes a bit longer.

I may be the only visitor they see all week. Yet my visit buoys them up for my next visit which is a week away. The folks who gather in the lobby every week are non-Catholic and do not receive. But I do get to say a short prayer with them, and they like my doing it. So do I.

But now, on that Sunday morning in March of the year 2020, it seems things had changed in a way no one could have ever imagined. The powers that be want us to be alone. They want us to avoid each other, not touch each other, and become individual entities. But we are social beings, and like it or not, we need each other. We need to touch and hold and shake hands and hug, especially among family and friends.

Nursing homes all over the country have been placed on “lockdown.” Patients in these places will be relegated to their beds. Family and friends will not be allowed to visit them. Independent living apartments will have empty lobbies and courtyards. There will be no place for the tenants to sit and congregate.

Will our country and maybe the world soon have billions of separate individuals with no one to talk to or visit with? It is such a strange paradox: saving the lonely by making them lonelier than they already are.

We had all better pray like we never prayed before that this coronavirus is vanquished quickly. We cannot live this way for very long.

Copyright©Larry Peterson 2020

Evangelizing: Since I Have No Pulpit I Use the Written Word and Social Media

Monday, April 25th, we celebrated the feast of the St. Mark the Evangelist. Mark (sometimes referred to as John Mark) wrote the first and the shortest gospel. The Entrance Antiphon for the Mass that day was as follows: “Go into the world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature, alleluia.” (Mark 16:15)

Pope Francis, in Evangelli Gaudium, encourages all of us to NOT keep the faith to ourselves but to go forth and  transform the world to Christ. The Holy Father wants a church of missionary disciples. Following the Pope’s lead, the young priest in our parish, Father Dan, gave a homily on St. Mark’s feast day, exhorting us all to go forth and proclaim the Good News—to everyone.

Pope Francis has a “bully pulpit.” So does Father Dan. They are expected to preach these things to us. I can only speak for myself but I do NOT have a “bully pulpit.” I do have a few plastic milk crates in the garage but I do not have the courage to set them down on a busy street corner or at a mall and start preaching to passers-by. (In today’s day and age I would probably get locked up as an intolerant loon, although that would not bother me.) The point is, it is not easy for us lay people to proselytize and/or preach the Good News unless we have a somewhat captive audience.

Those of us here at the CWG can interact with each other (whether it be one on one or in a group) about Catholic stuff. We can rail on about the secular attacks on our faith, have differences of opinion and post our deepest feelings that oftentimes come out in our written words. CWG can be our “bully pulpit.” So can a CCD class, or a Legion of Mary meeting, a Knights of Columbus meeting or even a simple bible study in the parish hall or someone’s home. But in all of those examples we are, as the cliche goes, “preaching to the choir.” How do we proselytize and spread the  Good news? I have my own method I will share and it is very simple. (It has definitely cost me friends, but so be it.)

I assume that most of us being writers, besides using the written word, also use some social media (which may include Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, LinkedIn, or others.) I have accounts on all of them but I do not understand Pinterest yet and rarely go to LinkedIn. I do use Facebook and Twitter. And I use them to perform my own feeble efforts to evangelize.

Every day (well, almost every day) I post something Catholic/Christian on Facebook and Twitter. I will place quotes from saints with their pictures, or links to Catholic/Christian stories and so forth. Today I posted a picture of a two year old girl named Ida, who was killed in the Holocaust. I posted little Ida’s photo because this is Passover week and all our Catholic beginnings come from Judaism (people and customs). We are joined at the hip with Judaism. Plus, I am writing Catholic/Christian fiction and I am blogging Catholic/Christian themes which I post on social media.

Anyway, that is how I try to evangelize. I know no other way. And yes, my list of “friends” include many Catholic/Christians,  many non-Christians, some agnostics and  two known atheists. My “friends” list has dwindled for sure (some folks whom I have known for decades no longer interact) but it has also expanded. It is in constant flux. No matter–I am evangelizing the only way I know how.

In conclusion, if you do Facebook or Twitter or any of the other social media you can get a bit creative and spread the Good News right there. If you have any ideas on ways to evangelize to those we do not know, I would love to hear some.

Copyright 2016 Larry Peterson

Planets, Dr. Seuss and Snowflakes—Combined Proof That There is a CREATOR

Ten  years ago, NASA’s new, Horizon Spacecraft left our humble, little planet and began its voyage to to the edges of our solar system and beyond. After traveling 3 billion-plus miles, New Horizon finally passed Pluto, the furthest planet from our sun. I don’t know about you but I find it so humbling and awe inspiring that we human beings, using the perfection that surrounds us, can mange to find a planet that is so far away. Yet, within our universe, it would be as close as a neighbor down the street.

How can we possibly know how to measure distance and location and density and climate relating to places that are so unimaginably far away? The speed of light is 186,000 miles per second. Who figured that out? How do you measure the speed of light? Assuming the number is correct, that means in one minute light travels 11+ million miles. That would be almost 16 billion miles in one day. Multiply that number by four and a half years. Do you see where I’m going with this? The light from our own sun takes eight minutes to reach Earth. Now scientists have found an “exoplanet” which is more than  a thousand light years away and they have figured out that  it revolves around its sun in 385 days vs our 365 days. WHEW!

Let’s move past Pluto. It seems NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope, launched in 2009,  found this exoplanet; they named it Kepler 452b.  This exoplanet could be similar to our hometown, Earth. “Hello sister planet, Kepler 452b.” The Kepler Telescope has identified close to 5000 exoplanets since it started scanning the deepest parts of space. But this is the first one that could be just like Earth. Now, get this–it is one thousand and four light years away. Our closest star system is Alpha Centauri, a mere 4.3 light years away. That means our closest star system is trillions of miles from our solar system and would take us tens of thousands of years to get there. Kepler 452b is 200 times further than that. My question is–how can  we know these things?

By NASA/Ames/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

By NASA/Ames/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

What about Earth? Think of some of the things that Earth does without us thinking about them. Here is one example; we never think about TIME but without its never ending accuracy we would have chaos. There are 24 hours in a day. Not 25 or 23 or 24.8, but 24. What if there were a random number of hours in a day? Imagine the possibilities? So how did we get 24 hours in a day? One word can answer that question, “perfection.”

What about explosions? (Please bear with me–I do intend to make a point.) Explosions are destructive and, for the most part, maim, kill and destroy. Last Fourth of July a guy in Maine, in a festive frame of mind, brilliantly set a rocket off from the top of his head. He died instantly. Jason Pierre Paul, the all-pro defensive star for the NFL’s N.Y. Giants, blew several fingers off his hand with fireworks. C. J. Wilson, of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, retired because he blew several fingers of his hand with fireworks. We can go back 70 years and remember that on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb blew the Japanese city of Hiroshima to smithereens. It also killed about 80,000 people. It follows that if I set a bomb off in my car the chances of the result being a nicer car are–well, ZERO.

So now–to the point. The Big Bang Theory of Creation has become the favored explanation of how our seemingly infinite universe came into existence. Scientists do agree that the universe did, in fact, have a beginning. They also know that the universe is expanding and changing and dying, just like we do. To the question: At the moment of creation when the unimaginable explosion took place or whether it was something like a giant balloon expanding and expanding until it “popped” spewing matter outwards, it all had to be controlled. Who did that?

Random explosions do not and cannot result in perfection. Twenty-four hours in a day is perfect for us imperfect species to depend on, including the animals.  It is a contradiction to believe otherwise. Perfection surrounds us. We can predict the rising and setting of the sun to the second, the new and full moons to the minute. We know when the tides rise and fall and can predict their lowest and highest points to the minute. We know when an eclipse, whether solar or lunar will occur and where. We have learned how to use the world around us to maintain our very existence or, in many cases, destroy it.

Bottom line: because the universe is so vast and expansive (and apparently infinite) and all of it is moving and changing within a perfectly ordered system proves someone bigger and smarter than any of us put this in place. We cannot understand this. We cannot scientifically prove it. But, no matter what, we live in it and survive by it every second of every day of our lives. Perfection does not come from chaos. Perfection can only come from someone who is PERFECT. We here at the CWG know who that Person is even though we cannot see HIM or touch HIM. All  we have to do is see a rising sun, a blooming rose, a full moon, a rainbow…or hear the cry of a newborn baby or ponder the magic of one snowflake, unique unto itself.

Maybe Dr. Seuss nailed it in his famous book, Horton Hears a Who. Maybe our planet Earth is really no bigger than Horton’s “Whoville.” Maybe we are specks on the end of a ball of dust. Maybe we are not as big and as smart as we think we are. We had to have a Creator. It is common sense. It is ultimately all in HIS hands. I am also sure HE subscribes to the famous sentence in Dr. Seuss’s book, “a person’s a person no matter how small.” Maybe those very “smart” people who reject what must be so need to breathe in a deep dose of humility and realize that this all did not just happen as the result of some random explosion or expansion. It is illogical and makes no sense (to me).

©LarryPeterson 2016

Lent: Highlighting Forgiveness & Redemption for All; Even “Dutch” Schultz

We are now into the third week of Lent and the road to redemption has been halfway traveled. Throughout the world Catechumens have almost reached their goal of full inclusion into the Catholic Church, which takes place during the Easter Vigil. It is a beautiful thing. In addition, this past December 8, Pope Francis started us on our journey into the Holy Year of Mercy.  The slogan for The Holy Year of Mercy is, “A Time to Heal, to Help, to Forgive.”  Yes, forgiveness is everywhere.

To give an example of how God’s mercy is ALWAYS available to those who seek it I would like to briefly mention a man by the name of Arthur Flegenheimer. Arthur was born in New York City in 1901, of German-Jewish ancestry. By the time he was 27 he was known as Dutch Schultz and was quickly becoming one of the most feared mob bosses in New York. The “Dutchman” was a bootlegger (running illegal whiskey), a numbers boss operating in Harlem and a “shakedown artist” within the NYC restaurant industry, offering protection while using the restaurant unions as cover.

His main enforcer was the infamous, Vincent “Mad Dog” Coll, a brutal killer who did Schultz’s bidding without hesitation. Eventually the “Dutchman” got tired of Coll’s wanting more money. As “Mad Dog” sat in a telephone booth talking on the phone he was machine-gunned to death by Schultz’s henchmen. Dutch actually proved to be a more brutal killer than “Mad Dog” Coll. So how does my brain tie together Dutch Schultz and the Holy Year of Mercy combined with Forgiveness? Actually, it is not that hard to do. This is the phenomenal redemption available to all through the Church and her Sacraments.

Dutch Schultz wanted to kill U. S. Attorney Thomas E. Dewey (later to be Governor of NY and the presidential candidate losing to Harry Truman in the 1948 election). The Mafia Commission told Schultz,  “NO, it would cause us too much trouble.” Schultz refused to listen and decided to  kill Dewey anyway. The mob, under Lucky Luciano, sent “Murder Inc.” after Schultz. On October 23, 1935, they gunned him down in a restaurant in Newark, N.J. Enter the sacrament of Penance and Forgiveness. Enter Mercy.

Earlier, Dutch Schultz had been acquitted on tax evasion charges, and at that time he converted to Catholicism. He believed that Jesus had saved him. When he was shot he did not die right away. He was taken to the hospital for surgery and he immediately asked for a priest. He was 34 years  old and his last thought while he was dying was to  ask Jesus for forgiveness and mercy. The “Dutchman” went to confession, received absolution and was administered the Last Rites of the Church by a priest. Then he died. Did Dutch Schultz go right to heaven? Did he get to the “pearly gates” and have St. Peter say, “Sorry, Dutch, that priest made a mistake. What you did was uunforgivable. You are not welcome here.” I think not.

In a few weeks it will be Good Friday. Catholic/Christian people all over the world will mourn and honor the bloodied, tortured and crucified Son of God, Jesus Christ: Jesus, the God-man who embraced forgiveness for all people and extended love to everyone. This is also what He wanted us to do. This is why he suffered and died for us. He offered Himself to His Father for us. Then we celebrate His Father’s gift back to us, the Risen Christ. We all have been saved and we all  have the choice of whether or not we want to share eternal life with the Blessed Trinity. All we need to do is seek forgiveness. Because of God’s Mercy, even a Dutch Schultz can join in the Redemption Celebration. It is a beauty beyond description.

©Larry Peterson 2016.  All Rights Reserved

Time to “Slap Back” at the Self-Serving Intolerance of the Anti-Catholic/Christian

Sorry–it is Good Friday and I do not feel too “bubbly” right now. When I began to contemplate the Cross today and Who was nailed to it I found myself disgusted. I am disgusted and fed up with the approximately 2% of the population who are gay and are screaming at the “intolerance” of the Catholic/Christian community which comprises 80% of the American population. I am tired of us being called “intolerant” and “homophobic” and “racist” etc., simply because they do not get their way in every little thing they demand. Have they ever once considered what that Cross we revere stands for? The fact is, they have hijacked the Cross and insist it represents them and their self-indulgent ideology. We Christians are the “bad people.” This perverse nonsense has to stop.

I am also tired of the mainstream media and the Hollywood elite denigrating and mocking Christianity and all who belong to it as “fools.” Aren’t you tired of being trashed by the anti-God people? Why can’t they seem to understand one bit of the the kindness and goodness that has been extended to ALL people by Catholic/Christians, you know, people like all of us. Bill Maher says that people who believe in God, “are idiots and they are stupid.” Has he or any of his fellow God-haters ever taken one damn moment and looked at that Cross and reflected about the sweet mercy, flowing grace and abundant love that smeared blood red all over the wood? I think not.

The United States State Department says that in at least 60 countries, Christians face persecution simply because they are Christian. Imagine, being hated for loving. How twisted is that? Seventy-five percent of the world’s population lives in areas with severe religious persecution. Yes, yes, I know, we are supposed to “turn the other cheek.” Well, this Catholic man says I’ll turn it but if you keep slapping my face every time I do, sooner or later I am going to slap you back. My brothers and sisters, I think it is time to start slapping back. Not with fists and pipes and lies and rants but with the written word defending our Faith against all attacks, even if it is a Tweet on Twitter or a blurb on Facebook.

I also want our bishops to get up there and start defending Christ and His people. And I want them to tell their priests to defend it also. (When was the last time you heard a priest in your parish defend the faith against the evil run amok all over the world including the USA?) I want them to say “We don’t need your your damn tax exemption 501c3. We must defend our faith no matter what.”

That’s right, forget this “PC” (politically correct) nonsense. We, as Catholics, do not put pen to paper and lie, slander or foment falsehoods about people. We write about Jesus Christ and the beautiful Faith He has given to us. That is not evil or intolerant. That is what we are about. We are about loving our neighbor and, for the most part, we do.

Last June ISIS overran the city of Mosul in Iraq. They killed countless numbers of our brother and sister Chaldean Catholics. The Church in Erbil has set up camps and is helping more than 130,000 refugees settle in temporarily until they might once again go back home to Mosul. Pope Francis has set an example for us all, including our hierarchy. He has sent Cardinal Fernando Filoni, the Prefect for the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, to these displaced Catholics. The Holy Father has initiated a program to give out cakes to each of the families in the camps. A total of more than 20,000 cakes will be distributed as the Holy Father shows them they all have his support and he is standing up to the maniacal, Satan driven savages of ISIS. He has taken the lead.

All I am asking for is more defense of the faith via the spoken and written word and some leadership from our safely placed American hierarchy in mounting a campaign to do so. Jesus never said it would be easy following Him. Seeing what happens to Him on Good Friday proves it. War is being waged against us, not only over there but right here in our own country. Time to “slap back.”

Reconnecting with an Old Family Friend: St. Therese

I have a small bedroom I converted into an office. Against the wall next to the closet is a narrow bookcase. It is about seven feet tall and one foot wide and has seven shelves. It is a great dust collector. Anyway, I had this sudden urge to “straighten up” the mess of papers and supplies I had so “neatly” placed on those shelves over the past few years. So I reached for the stack of old Writer’s Digest and Writer magazines on the third shelf. I placed one hand on top and tried to get my other underneath the stack. As if working together in synchronized dance, they all slid out and landed in a pile on the floor. I shook my head and chuckled. “Typical you,” I mumbled to no one.

Included in my extended Catholic family (besides you and all Catholics) are the saints. Regarding the saints, there are many of these family members I have never even heard of. But, I do know that if I ever hear about one of them and seek them out, they somehow heed my call. For example, recently I “met” St. John of God for the first time and I had never heard of him. After reading about him, suffice it to say that this saint is no longer extended family for me. No sirree, he is now close family. I give him a ‘shout-out’ every day. (You can Google his name and a wealth of info comes up).

But what about an old family member who you were very close to and then, for some inexplicable reason, you more or less ignored them for many years? How do you finally get back together with them? I’ll tell you one way it can happen. They might hit you upside your head with a clear and unmistakable message. Guess who my message sender was? It was St. Therese, the “Little Flower.” Many of you know what I am talking about. There is no subtlety when she is communicating with you. You can do like me though. You might begin to take her for granted and then begin to ignore her. SIGH–I did that, I admit it. Not anymore.

I should explain that my family and I have had some profound experiences courtesy of this great saint. In fact, I could write an entire short story right now about each of several miraculous things that have happened in our lives courtesy of St. Therese’s intercession. (I actually started to do that so I just deleted more than 400 words of “stuff” that was turning this into a novella.) “C’mon Larry, get to the point.” (That’s me talking to me.)

I bend down to begin picking up the magazines which are spread evenly across the floor. The mastheads are all showing as if they were put on display. In the middle of the pile I see a thin box. It does not belong. It is an interloper. I pick it up and see it is an old Xerox box, 8.5 X 11 by about one half-inch thick that held something called transparency paper. I did not even know what that was and then the end of this box popped open and a bunch of photos slid out. Guess whose 8 X 10 photo is on top looking right at me with this satisfied smile that made my knees get weak? Yup–you got it, St. Therese.

Two hours later that photo of my sweet, little friend (and your friend too), was in a very nice 12 X 15 bordered frame hanging on the wall a few feet away. Now I get to see her every day and she still is smiling gently. Since we have reconnected I have seen more ROSES than I can count. I found the booklet, “Mary Day by Day” in the garage (don’t ask me how it got there) which was Blessed Mother Teresa’s favorite book. I received an e-mail from someone named Therese Martin (St. Therese’s real name) and, thanks to the encouragement of Elizabeth Schmeidler, my book is coming out in print in a few weeks. I also am reading Connie Rossini’s book, “Trusting God with St. Therese.” How timely is that? I might add that our stillborn daughter’s name is Theresa Mary and my granddaughter’s name is Theresa Marie.

I shall end this now by simply asking St. Therese to please pray for all of us and by promising her that she can stay smiling at me from up on that wall for the rest of my life.

Meditating “Melchizedek”

When it comes to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass I freely admit that of all the Eucharistic Prayers that are offered I do LOVE the Roman Canon (Eucharistic Prayer I) the best. The words after the consecration are specifically about our role in this heavenly drama:

“we, your servants and your holy people, offer to your glorious majesty from the gifts that you have given us, this pure victim, this holy victim, this spotless victim, the holy Bread of eternal life and the Chalice of everlasting salvation.”

Are not those words just beautiful? And then, after a few lines, “in humble prayer we ask you, almighty God command these gifts be borne by the hands of your holy angel to your altar on high—–so that all of us may be filled with every grace and heavenly blessing.—“ Magnificent, even out of context. But I skipped a few lines that come between the italicized words. Specifically, “the offering of your high priest, Melchizedek—“

I don’t know about you but I confess, I never thought about “Melchizedek.” Who is he? Where did he come from? Why am I thinking about this after all these years? Well, I heard a homily the other day where the priest talked about tithing. (Everyone’s favorite topic). First he quoted from the Letter to the Hebrews, Ch 5; 6, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.” Then he went on to say that in Chapter 14 of the Book of Genesis Abram’s nephew, Lot, was captured during the Battle of Sidim. So Abram takes 318 of his best men and goes and rescues him. Enter Melchizedek (I have just given new meaning to the word “synopsis”).

Anyway, the point Father was traveling to was this. After Abram won his victory, the King of Salem, Melchizedek, came out to greet Abram and gave him bread and wine, and being a priest of God, he blessed Abram with these words “Blessed be Abram by God Most High, the Creator of heaven and earth—“ And Abram knew immediately that he was supposed to give Melchizedek 10% of all he had. And he DID.

As soon as Father said this, drums began beating inside my head. Amid the pounding I began hearing words, “WHAT! WHAT! What did he say? Did he say Abram just knew? How did he know that? How could he know that? Why not 5% or 25%?” The pounding turned into doubting.

He immediately directed us all back to the quote from the Letter to the Hebrews. He explained that since Jesus was “a priest forever in the line of Melchizedek” and Abram knew what to do, that is why we are asked to give 10% as a tithe. Father did admit that no one really knows who Melchizedek was or where he actually came from. Salem could have referred to the future Jerusalem or Zion or to a tabernacle; there is much speculation. Oh well.

I am far from being a theologian, so I assume this is solid Catholic teaching. Since Jesus is identified as a “priest forever in the line of Melchizedek,” He assumes the role of High Priest once and for all. This I will not question even though I really do not understand it. But I posted this here because our CWG site is a truly Catholic place, and I am hoping for some simple input regarding the tithing business.

Father finished by saying, “All of us priests follow in Jesus’ footsteps. Therefore we have the right to request money from you, and you have an obligation to give it.” He said it, and I did not like it. For me it was like swallowing a pill that got stuck in my throat. Well, the pill is still stuck, right where it stopped. Any ideas on how I can get that pill swallowed without gagging would be appreciated.