German soldiers react to footage of concentration camps. The images were shown to confront them with evidence of crimes as Allied forces liberated the camps, 1945
New Novel About the Latin Mass Reviving A Rural Parish Bishop J. Donald Doherty was chuckling at the large map of his diocese that covered most of his desk, its parish churches marked by bright blue crosses, the parish boundaries by dotted blue lines, their schools and the diocesan high school by (of course) little red schoolhouses, the cemeteries by bright green crosses. Near the northern edge of his fief lay a lonely blue cross, circled by him, a moment ago, in heavy black ink. He pressed the intercom button on his phone. “Ed, you remember that strange letter from those people calling themselves Saint—what was it? Ambrose? Aquinas?” Asking for the old Mass? I’m going to give them Forty Martyrs.” “Don, you can’t do that—er, sorry.” “Relax, Ed. Haven’t had so much fun in years. It’s perfect.” ~ ~ ~ Double doors with glass windows led into the nave, which was carpeted in surgical green, with brown spots scattered about, some bearing fresh bits of ceiling tile. Just inside the doors …
A man once came to an old wise mentor. After watching how calm and kind he always was, he said: “You’re so wise. You’re always in a good mood. You never seem to get angry. Please — help me become like that.” The mentor agreed and asked the man to bring a bag of potatoes and a clear plastic bag. “Every time you get angry at someone and hold onto resentment,” the mentor said, “take a potato. Write that person’s name on it and put it in the bag.” “That’s it?” the man asked, surprised. “No,” the mentor replied. “You must carry this bag with you at all times. And every time you feel resentment toward someone, add another potato.” The man agreed. After some time, his bag filled up with potatoes and became heavy. Carrying it everywhere was uncomfortable. And the potatoes he had put in first began to rot. They turned slimy. Some started sprouting. Others grew mold and gave off a sharp, awful smell. Finally, the man returned to the mentor and said: “I can’t carry this anymore. The bag …More