Lensing Through the Bench

After I posted on the Burke-Majerus Tussle yesterday, I did visit some of my “favorite” Catholic blogs. Naturally, the usual suspects are all over the coach’s speak-out, and in such predictable ways I needn’t have bothered to surf there.

What I did find were the three posts on it at The Deacon’s Bench, plus some other interesting gems of blogging. Like a priest’s rant on coming to church. Most of it is framed in a negative way, like this one:

You don’t have to wear a tie (men) or a fancy hat (women) like we’re freakin’ baptists, but have some decency. How much money did it cost to air-condition this church? So put on some long pants, you can stand it. Don’t wear your favorite tasteless message t-shirt. And ladies, this is not the place to show off your big bosoms.

But the positive points were absolutely great:

Oh, and all of you with crying babies: God bless you! Everybody is welcome in church, and that’s what babies do. Anybody gives you a dirty look, tell them to go (spit) in their hat. God blessed you with new life, and all they have is a crabby disposition. But for you with noisy teenagers: beat them.

And for all of you who haggle on penances, I have to say I respect that a little bit. It’s funny, but it shows you take it seriously.

And then there’s Deacon Greg’s piece linking a Retrouvaille story. Like the deacon, my wife and I had a very enriching experience on Marriage Encounter. It’s one example of a post-conciliar lay movement that has eclipsed anything and everything the institutional Church has done on marriage since Vatican II. It addresses something the “shalt-not” approach of marriage amendments will never grasp: that marriage as a sacrament and institution is strengthened by being built up into its own magnificent edifice, not from tearing down the structures other people are attempting.

Anyway, the blogroll has a bench, now.

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About catholicsensibility

Todd and his family live in Ames, Iowa. He serves a Catholic parish of both Iowa State students and town residents.
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