HAUNTED BY THE HOLY GHOST

Ecce Virgo Concipiet, et Pariet Filium...And Happy New Year

This is the great Festival of the Incarnation,commemoration the announcement by the Archangel Gabriel to our Lady that the Divine Son of God, the Word, would take human nature upon Him in her virginal womb.  It's date is determined by that of Christmas Day, and as the day which is marked the beginning of the Christmas dispensation it was for many centuries regarded as the first day of the civil new year.

On this day the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, uniting forevermore our human nature to the Divine nature.  The mystery of the Incarnation brings vividly before us the boundless condescension and humility of the Son of God in stooping to our condition in order to be our Savior, Equally it proclaims the glory and greatness of Mary, who was chosen to give to the Divine Word human flesh and human birth, and so to cooperate with God in the restoration of mankind.  Hence her most glorious title of the "Mother of God," which explains all her glories, her sanctity, and her honor.

From the 1962 Roman Catholic Daily Missal

I almost went to Mass with hubby this morning since, "According to the historic Western rubrics, Ordo 2007 of the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese Western Rite Vicariate prescribes that the Feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary be celebrated this year on Monday, 26 March, since it falls Passion Sunday."
I can't wait to hear about the music.

A Hymn appointed for this day:

HAIL, O Star of the ocean,
God's own Mother blest,
ever sinless Virgin,
gate of heav'nly rest.

Taking that sweet Ave,
which from Gabriel came,
peace confirm within us,
changing Eve's name.

Break the sinners' fetters,
make our blindness day,
Chase all evils from us,
for all blessings pray.

Show thyself a Mother,
may the Word divine
born for us thine Infant
hear our prayers through thine.

Keep our life all spotless,
make our way secure
till we find in Jesus,
joy for evermore.

Praise to God the Father,
honor to the Son,
in the Holy Spirit,
be the glory one. Amen.

At least we will get to sing Ave, Regina Caelorum (Hail, O Queen of Heaven), at Lauds, (I think, I'm still confused about the order of things).  I originally learned it in Latin, but we sing it in English using the same Gregorian music.

While the Icon of the  Annunciation is beautiful and lifetime of contemplation is to be found within it, my favorite Annunciation Painting, which reflect neither Orthodox or Roman Catholic influences is below.  Just private judgment.  I just like it; leftover 'tude from a previous lifetime.

Thanks mom.

Just because I took the Picture, and it
makes me happy whenever I see them
together.

They call me stalkarazzi, but they love
the pictures.

It’s not everyone who can photograph a
concert with nothing but the isight camera
on her laptop and get the pictures published
on the band’s website.
I love the attribution they gave me: picture by “Bea’s mom”.

I got a story about them, too involving St. Francis.
It’s good.

Writers block, Writer’s phobia, The Great Schism Interactive Exhibit, and a Kidnapping

This has been spell checked, grammar checked, and analyzed by three different programs and then nuked with SpellChecker, and I know, I just KNOW that there are errors, but they hide so well.
I want my real live editor back.
Between the dyslexia, ADD, and heavy medication stupors, I am developing a serious phobia of publish, send, and save buttons.
So if this post disappears in a few hours, it is probably because my editor read this and emailed me with a list 2 miles long of everything that is wrong.
This is all her fault. She was the one who made me promise to have at least a ratio of 50/50 quote entries and original posts. No excuse was acceptable.
In the last two weeks, I have emailed her with so many ridiculous happenings, stories, and pictures, she says I have no excuse for a boring blog.

What happens when I run out of the medication that makes my brain work; how many canes I have actually lost and have covered up by purchasing an exact replica;
a cell phone that spent the day in the pouring rain, buried in a snowbank, maybe or maybe not on purpose,-and the message that was on it when I finally found it;
a hamster on a backgammon board;
the stalkarazzi strikes again at a another Drake concert; “hi mom”; 
Why our house is becoming known as the Living Interactive museum of “The Great Schism” and my y children are actually bringing friends over to “see it”. It’s educational, they say;
and I still haven’t reported on the kidnapping committed by Bea and her best friend that happened last August (I have pictures!).
Don’t worry about spelling and grammar she says. Don’t worry about looking foolish, it’s not like anyone still thinks that you are sane. (She said THAT)
She doesn’t care that my priests occasionally reads this, and I could land in serious trouble. Always looking on the bright side, she says:

“well, at least confession won’t take so long if he knows what to expect in advance.”

And with that, here is my entry for today:

Benign intercostal myositis, my autoimmune system’s way to of saying, “I’m still here and I am not happy.” A good rule of thumb is “if it hurts, stop doing it, which works well if it involves moving swollen painful joints, but doesn’t work so well when it involves the muscles you use to breath. Checkmate.
A week of bedrest, steroids, and those pink pills that were responsible for the New Year’s Eve semi-coma incident (it was funny at the time, really) has me almost back to normal abnormal.

In the meantime Lent, efforts for daily family devotions, and negotiations to come up with a version of Lauds, that is acceptable to Orthodox wife and almost Roman Catholic Husband continues.

You would think this would be a slam dunk since I worship in the Orthodox Western Rite, which closely follows the 1962 pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic missal, (yes I have a copy published by those scandalous schismatics, The SSPX), and he attends a very traditional, Latin/Gregorian Chant Norvus Ordo Mass I am still around.

Some of the issues are minor. In the Gloria Patri, do you end with forever and ever, or unto ages of ages, and while it easy enough for
me to leave out the filioque, there have been other significant changes in the translation of the Nicene Creed.  More challenging are the revisions in the Calendar, omissions and additions to the hagiography, and the sometimes unsatisfactory translation from the Latin of the propers and prayers in the Norvus Ordo.

Maybe we should just do the whole thing in Latin.

Then what about the Psalms?

The offset numbering between the Septuagint and almost every Bible we own is driving him to distraction. I don’t get what the problem is. He’s an engineer; it’s a simple equation. I’m dyslexic, and mathematically challenged an am able to figure it out. (The chart in the front of the book helps, too).

At the beginning we thought alternating between several versions of Morning Prayer, including Eastern Rite prayers might work. We tried using them without any editing.
It didn’t work so well.
Though he said it was fine, I noticed a few occasions of eye-rolling; universal husbandspeak for “Yes, dear; (because it’s just not worth the fight)”.
I think there is some unwritten rule in his head, (maybe it’s cultural, I will leave that up to you): It’s OK to repeat things up to 3 times if the sentence is less than 20 words. Repeating something longer than 20 words is just nonsensical, and repeating anything, regardless of length 12 times is like beating the dry bones of a dead horse.
Note, however, strangely the Rosary is not only exempt from this rule, but had been praying it is praised and encouraged (as it should be) and the benefits of doing so becomes obvious to anyone who does it on a regular basis. Yet no one sees any connection between that prayer practice and some of the ancient prayers of the East.

I must admit my own incidents of eye rolling at some of the language of Roman Catholic devotional prayers whose language seemed more akin to a graphic medical report than theological poetry.
I know there are good translations and bad translations, and some translations that shouldn’t see the light of day in both the Eastern and Western traditions. I also cringed at some of the Eastern devotional prayers that bordered on uncomfortable smugness with language that had poor hubby praying, for apostates, schismatics, and those who departed from the Orthodox Faith (that would be himself, in the eyes of many in the Orthodox Church).

We shall persevere, our words, no matter if they soar it the most beautiful poetic strains are incomplete and imperfect. But we take comfort in the promise that we never pray alone, but as part of the whole Church. Whatever melody our prayers take, they are harmonized by the Spirit praying in a superior language, a fiery language, and they are joined with the prayers of the whole company of heaven in the endless song of praise before the throne of God.

Pretty heady stuff to be doing at 430AM in the morning with only one eye open.

____________________

And just so I am not embarrassed alone:
There really was a kidnapping last August. Planned and executed by two young ladies returning home from a summer as Lutheran Camp Counselors. I am not saying there is any relationship between those two facts. There might be, but I am not saying it.

The Ransom note

The victim tied up and gagged

The Kidnapper’s partner in crime, Evil Gerry the Gnome,

stealing the wagon to cart his victim away. I was not more than 50 feet

away when all this was happening, but like the private investigator said,

“That woman can sleep through anything.”

I have the entire criminal case file.

Yeah, I got stories.

...he turns earth into heaven and converts men into angels

"If we keep vigil in the Church, David comes first, last and central...All other men at night are overcome by sleep;  David alone is active, ad gathering the servants of God into seraphic bands, he turns earth into heaven and converts men into angels."

St. John Chrysostom, On the Psalms

VERSES TO THE DIVINE DAVID

Be Silent, Orpheus;  thy lyre throw aside, O Hermes.
The tripod at Delphi hath sunk into oblivion forevermore.
for us David doth now play the Spirit's lyre,
The Hidden things of God's mysteries he revealeth;
A multitude of ancient wonders he narrateth;
Of the Creator of creation, doth he move one to sin.
Saving all those men he initiateth, as he writeth his verses,
Sinners doth he bring to desire repentance.
Among other teachings, to the throng doth he declare the Judge's judgments.
The puring, he doth teach, of soulful sinnings.

A COUPLET TO THE SAME

The Psalter of David, whose sayings are as stones,
Doth crush the passions as they were another Goliath.

FROM THE FORWARD OF:
THE PSALTER
According to the Seventy
Of St. David, the Prophet and King
Together with the Nine Odes and
An Interpretation of How the
Psalter Should be Recited
Throughout the Whole Year

Translated from the
Septuagint Version of the
Old Testament by the
HOLY TRANSFIGURATION MONASTERY
Boston Massachusetts 1997

I’ve got a bad feeling, emotion, sentiment, inkling, notion, speculation, hunch

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

Warning: I am not in control of this post. It is being heavily influenced by a new Super Editing Program I just downloaded. I dare not say more. It is listening.

I hear ticking. I think my head is going to explode.

Why did my new spelling program just give me 12 synonyms for the word explode?

Hero, I am writing this just for you.
You complained I wasn’t writing anything, but just cutting and pasting quote that were causing you to do bodily harm to yourself (something about your head and a wall).
And  you better not be toying with me about coming home soon. I am going stir crazy. Actually, I have been there and back several times.

You would not believe the excuses I have used to get out of this house.

Did you know last week was National Engineer Appreciation Week? I convinced your father it wouldn’t be proper for me to let it pass without at least taking him out to dinner.  Pretty desperate.

And I think I may need a hamster intervention. I won’t go into too many details, but I think Thumblina may have an aptitude for chess.

If my head doesn’t detonate, burst, discharge, mushroom, blow up, counter-exemplify, or go boom in the near future, and my cell phone stops buzzing and beeping, and the other phone stops ringing, and the hamster stops spinning that silly wheel(which should be when the Ritalin wears off-she was chewing on an empty pill bottle that hadn’t been rinsed out). Yes, I let her play on the desk while I am on the computer. But I have stopped feeding her junk food. It is Lent.

Why the ticking, and impending brain explosion?  It started when I thought a live video iChat between Grandma and the Way Out West Gang was a good idea. It is a good idea, but I should have done it under more...optimal circumstances.

Just trying to log on should have been enough warning. After the adults spent 20 minutes getting nowhere, my sweet bro threw tossed handed the phone to his teenage son who started throwing words like Jabber, AOL, AIM, MSN, buddies and buddy lists at my little Mac mind.
I iChat. Period.
I don’t IM, I don’t Jabber, jibber, or breed unholy alliances by mixing Gchat, AOL, AIM or MSN with my .Mac  iChat.

I hit my iChat icon, and if there is anyone there, I talk to them.

I finally convinced the little whipper-snapper that we had to go .Mac to .Mac, or the deal was off. And one of us  hit the right button, because my bro’s mug popped up on my computer.

I also didn’t take into account that Grandma would react l like she was having an out of body experience.
I think Grandma thought I was doing some kind of witchcraft.

How different is it from talking on the phone?
It’s a phone call with pictures. Right?
And I have seen her talk back to her TV many times, so she has some experience with the concept.

I’m sure it didn’t help that the Internet connection we were “borrowing” was so slow, that there was an “X-file” quality about transmission. It wasn’t High Definition quality, but it wasn’t Mission Control to Apollo 8 static either.

She did say that she would like to see it again (?!).

Like a M*A*S*H* rerun.

I’ll take that as positive feedback

Are you finding this interesting, Hero; NO QUOTES.

about the editing program. shhhhhh.

I just got the Nuke of all spell check programs, Spell Catcher.  It’s in the free shareware stage and I have no idea what I am doing and it knows, so it thinks it’s the boss of me and intends to have a good time at my expense until I can reign it in.  
It does some really cool things, but it kind of like having a Great Dane on a leash; it may look like you are walking the dog, but everyone knows who would win if you wanted to go left and he wanted to go right.

A strange thing, sometimes, I swear I hear it snicker.  I also think that it may be bi-polar, or at the very least, has an attitude problem.(sixteen synonyms for the word “problem“. I can see where this is going).

I hope it is not a portent(augury, bodment, omen, presage, prognostic, harbinger, forerunner, shadow) that I am going to need that many terms to describe it’s behavior.
And why did it insist on spelling chat....chaT?  I just wanted to send a quick email and it turned into a tug of war. It wouldn’t allow me to correct the error, no matter what I did. So I had no choice but to choose another word, and, of course, it was more than happy to give me 50 suggestions.

I think it has authority issues.
I have already put the mute/muzzle on.  My lovely William from Cepstral Voices, I love your English accent, but I couldn’t stand to hear you say “curious” every time I spelled a word in an imaginative way.

I may be able to silence it, but I am not sure that I know how to disable the program.

I wonder why there are no synonyms offered for the word “disable”.

I’m beginning to wonder...maybe it’s like cyber slave trade.

Anybody catch an Amber Alert for a missing English TeachEr?

______________________________________________________

Hope this was more to your liking, Hero.

Why do I think you are going to make me delete this when you get home today?

Do you still have Laryngitis?  That means you can’t yell at me.

Tell Claudio, I think that “marble thing“ may be mixed up in all this.