The Storm! Pre-emptive strike?

I’ve put off writing this, waiting to see if the people of Greenland just managed to avert a war or if they recklessly started one with the USA. But nobody seems to understand what is happening, so war or no war, the article must be drafted.

You don’t know what I am writing about, do you? I didn’t think so. You have probably been brainwashed by the mainstream media into thinking that this Winter Storm of the Century, nay, the Winter Storm to End All Storms, was just the result of StraightWhiteMan-made Global Warming. But put your tinfoil hats upon your heads and get ready, for I am going to reveal the true source and purpose of The Storm.

Greenland, seeing that the Supreme Master of All Things was huffing and puffing about taking them over by hook or by crook, decided to throw the first, preemptive punch. They threw down the gauntlet, sent us a small dose of their “normal” weather, and challenged us to experience just what life in Greenland can be like in the summer! “You want some of this?” they shouted across Canada toward the formerly United States. “We've got more where that came from!”

I was waiting to see if our Commandant-in-Chief would pull out our weather-control machines (that we don’t officially have) and blast Greenland with a little Florida Winter weather (It was 69 degrees this morning at Mom’s house, when it was -5 degrees here in Kansas after The Storm had passed) and reply via Truth?Social, “WEEL (sic) MELT ALL OF YOUR ILAND (sic) IF YOU DON’T SURRENDER! YOUR (sic) ALL WASHED UP, BOOGERFACE!” or something equally Presidential.

Alas, nothing has come of it. The war didn’t get called off, nor did it yet start in earnest. Maybe by the time The Storm makes it across to (Needsagood)Wash-ington DC, something more will happen, but as of right now, the hysterics of Conservative-caused Climate Change still rule the news reports.

So how are you spending your last days on Earth (if the forecasts are correct, that is)? As for me, on Saturday, as The Storm continued to rage on outside, I spent most of my “free time” sitting at my desk writing letters. As I pondered the perfect words to put on paper (yes, I was using actual note cards and ink), I was gazing out the window, watching the snow as it blew in sideways. It was similar in that regard to the rain coming down during a hurricane, but this was frozen stuff and looked a whole lot prettier. And colder.

The outdoor temperature that morning, shortly before the Mass, was 3 degrees, and it only rose to 6 degrees for a few minutes about 4 pm. The weather app also showed it being a 15 degrees below zero “feel like” temperature. Of course, that’s balmy for good ol’ Greenland, USA.

My window overlooks the “far side” of the long goat, chicken, and duck enclosure. The chickens never make it to this side. I have seen the ducks waddle this way only once, but the goats come running over, looking for a handout whenever anyone walks near the fence. But not today. They were all huddled inside their shelters, letting the Greenland war’s warning shot pass them by.

But the frigid weather didn’t stop the wild birds from flying all over the place. How in the world do they keep from freezing? I was sitting fully clothed inside a heated building, and I was still shivering. But the tiny birds darted to and fro, seemingly, at least, without a concern of turning into feathered balls of ice. The squirrels, too, seemed undaunted as they hopped across the white field and scurried up and down the trees.

As for me, I actually put on a thermal undershirt under my cassock and wore (gasp!) wool socks with my sandals. Coincidentally, I had just received a care package/Christmas present with three new pairs, so even if the Sisters get backed up with laundry (they pamper me, even doing my laundry!) I will have toasty, or at least not so frozen, little piggys!

When I finally got done with the last letter I would write that day, it was time to hoof it down to the mailbox. The last snow day, I tried doing that in sandals and without socks. I regretted it enough that as soon as the snow melted, I drove down to Walmart and picked up a pair of rubber muck boots, the only boots they had that even came close to fitting. So I put my wool-stockinged feet into the boots, pulled on my coat, pulled a “turtle fur” cap down over my ears, and set out, mail in my gloved left hand and rosary in my right.

These waterproof boots, meant for working around the horse stalls and doing other farm chores, were certainly not the most comfortable footwear I have ever worn. Nor did they have any insulation other than the thick rubber soles at the bottom, and thick, unlined rubber making up the rest of the boot. But what an improvement from sandals when walking through an inch or so of snow! The grip was incredible, and I didn’t slip on the frozen gravel even a single time. Of course, on my return, I had to use a screwdriver to pry the gravel out of the treads, but that was a small price to pay to stay upright!

It takes about two decades and a few Hail Mary’s into the third Mystery to get to the mailbox. The wind was blowing about 15 MPH at the cabin. But as soon as I passed the chapel, the wind was blowing across a large, open field, and, with nothing to hinder it, was at gale force until I could reach the tree line. I had to brace myself against it as it pelted me with light, wispy snowflakes and intense cold. As I exited the parking lot and started walking on the drive, I noticed a set of boot tracks that looked a lot like my tread pattern, except smaller. Somebody else was somewhere in front of me, and there were no return tracks. Sure enough, around the bend near the road, one of the Sisters was on her return trip. I don’t know which one, since (this is no joke) they all look alike in their habits, plus, she was bundled up from top to bottom, including a scarf that completely covered every bit of her face except her eyeballs. We didn’t stop and chat since we were both praying and fighting the cold, blowing wind.

Later, somebody came and shoveled a path from my back chapel entrance to the door of my cell, including scraping the snow off the gravel path! Then, in the evening, one of the Sisters shoveled off my front stoop and stairs again so that I didn’t have to trudge through fresh snow for Compline. As I said, they pamper me!

Sunday morning, the fresh snow that had fallen overnight was three inches deep on that same front stoop/porch, but somebody had already shoveled a path through it before I had to walk through the second day of 3-degree weather on my way to the chapel for 4:30 am prayers.

Sunday Mass attendance was down quite a bit, as most people couldn’t make it through the unplowed rural roads. The wind was down to a gentle (for Kansas) breeze, 10 MPH, and there was no more snowfall. I walked through it to make a few measurements. I saw between 5 and 7 inches of snow away from the buildings. It really is beautiful. But I am glad to be indoors most of the time.

This morning, Monday, the temperature at Mass time was 5 degrees below zero. For the first time since I have been here, none of the locals showed up for Mass. This afternoon, as I finish this up, the temperatures have risen from all the way to 15 degrees! The goats, ducks, and chickens are still nowhere to be seen, and I can’t say I blame them for staying inside!

That’s about it for now. Stay holy and stay warm.

With prayers for your holiness,

Rev. Fr. Edwin Palka

Down The Rabbit Hole

 Down The Rabbit Hole

Some of you have a hard time understanding how, changing from pastor of a “big city” parish to chaplain of a small Community of Sisters in the middle of nowhere, I am not bored out of my mind. The reality is, I don’t have time to be bored!

I know, I know. That doesn’t make any sense. All I do here is celebrate Mass for the Sisters, hear their confessions, teach a catechism class to the Postulants, have Exposition and Benediction for the community, and pray. Compare that very short list to the list of things I did as a parish priest, and your question makes sense. So let me give you an example of something that I find anything but dull, and that fills much of my “non-prayer” time.

You know that when I came here, realizing how limited my living space would be, I got rid of most of my “things,” including multiple bookshelves of very good books. I narrowed down to three boxes those that I would take with me. I was guessing as to which books would be absolutely necessary for my ministry here and parted with many that I used regularly, even daily, in the parish. Beyond the bare bones basics, I also packed some books that I had not yet gotten around to reading. I assumed that I would be spending much time delving into these good books. I was wrong. I don’t have the time. Because I read too much. What?

I can’t read my books because of rabbit holes. No, not the real ones dug by the rabbits out in the field. The Alice in Wonderland kind. Once you enter the rabbit hole, it just leads from one adventure to another, from one puzzle to another, from one curiosity to another. It is possible to return from the rabbit hole, but it sure takes a lot of time to find the way out!

For instance, I was trying to read a book I have had for several years and never got around to reading. The Theology of Religious Vocation by Rev. Edward Farrell, O.P. It received its imprimatur in 1951, so it was on the cusp of the vocation mass exodus that occurred after Vatican II. It is fairly short for a theology book, at just over 200 pages, so it should have been easy enough to finish. Spoiler alert: I still haven’t done so.

Before going any further, let me ask a question to those trying to either discern a vocation or to promote them. What exactly is a vocation? How will you know if you are called? How you view “vocation” will determine how you can know if you have one or how to promote them! Let me introduce you to the four different theories of what a vocation call actually is, as listed in this book. I will also do this book a true disservice by, after naming each theory, summarizing it without details or nuances. Which of them, if any, do you think is a real definition of “Vocation?”

 A. The Attraction Theory. It is “a divine call addressed immediately to a man’s soul, urging him instinctively, or perhaps even sensibly, as it were, by a secret voice to enter the clerical or religious state.” So, it’s an ongoing, overwhelming thought, feeling, or even a miraculous intervention/invitation that you can’t ignore because you know it’s coming from God.

B. External Vocation Theory. God calls to the priesthood only through an ordaining Bishop, who invites “a candidate to present himself for ordination”; or through “a religious superior approving or admitting an aspirant to profession or a candidate to the novitiate.” You just apply to a seminary or apply for entrance into a convent or monastery and see how it goes.

C. The General Vocation Theory. This is “an invitation made by Christ to all to follow Him in the perfect life, that is, by practicing the evangelical counsels.” According to this theory, everyone is called to live poverty, chastity, and obedience. If a man chooses (under the inspiration of general grace) to live this universal call to holiness as a religious or a priest, he hasn’t received a special call or special graces; he simply chooses this life and gets the bishop or superior to agree, and then prays for, and will receive, the graces necessary to live it out. Priesthood, religious life, married life, it makes no difference. Just be holy and do whatever.

D. The Special, Internal Vocation Theory. Here, “emphasis is laid upon the role of the virtue of magnanimity.” It is a “radical” act of the virtue of religion (the most important virtue, of which magnanimity is a “subset” virtue). It is “an intense act of devotion in a magnanimous mode.” You choose, with and by God’s grace, to live the most radical way to worship, honor, and adore God in this life.

It was this last theory that the author of the book expanded on and believes to be the correct theory. He attributes it to St. Thomas Aquinas. Here comes the rabbit that I fell into: setting the book aside to read St. Thomas directly before going back into the theory of what he supposedly said. I had given away my Summa and other Aquinas books when I moved to Kansas and my Kindle was in the car, so I turned to the computer. Which got me into Archive.org and books.google.com. But once there, I saw several other books on Religious Vocations that I had previously at least partially read, and I didn’t remember any of them outlining the divine call in this same way, so I started skimming through them to search for similarities.

I also saw that I had electronically set aside an 1885 book on the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception and, to prepare for that feast (which was then upcoming), I wandered out of the vocation rabbit hole and into this new tunnel. But Our Lady of Guadalupe's feast day was also quickly approaching, so I searched out some old books on the Tilma and Juan Diego and then something about Ember Days, and Christmas, and Epiphany...

And I had also set aside a real book, “The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross,” to get into, and I occasionally picked it up for a few minutes or hours (it’s hard to tell time while reading). And then a couple of books came in as Christmas presents. And so on, and so on...

Do you remember the articles I wrote about fidgeting? This is another marker of it! Physical fidgeting, spiritual fidgeting, literary fidgeting, and oh, so many more types! I have them all.

With prayers for your holiness,

Fr. Edwin Palka

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For those who wish to ask for prayers, discern a Vocation, or make donations:

[The Sisters now have a website! https://filiae.org/]

This blog is not monetized, since the good Sisters give me food and shelter. But if you wish to support the Filiae Laboris Mariae Sisters under my spiritual care, feel free to send them a note to: St. Joseph Convent, 1250 Hackberry Road, Redfield, KS 66769. They constantly pray, and their benefactors will get great spiritual rewards! That is also the address you can send snail mail to me. I suppose you already know or can guess my gmail address with the F*****P**** in front of it!

Christmas and New Year’s Rest?

I'm on vacation since I'm only taking care of Religious Sisters, right?

There seems to be a bit of curiosity about how the Holidays (specifically Christmas and New Year) differ at the convent from at a parish. The common assumption has been that I must have gotten a lot more rest this year than in past years. Foolish assumption! As I mentioned last time, there were great differences in that I was not having to plan and coordinate and attend every planning and coordinating meeting. That was nice, to say the least! But the “busyness” factor was still there for the Sisters, for they still had to do all of their “regular” tasks, plus all of their regular prayers, and then somehow find time to do a most thorough Christmas job of cleaning, decorating, cooking, visiting, hosting, choir-practicing, and everything else that goes along with proper preparation for Our Lord’s Birth. So you might think that they got a chance to sleep in a little longer or nap during the day or something along those lines. And, if they got to rest, yours truly would get to rest also. But that is not the way of the Sisters.

The prayer schedule for December 24th, the Vigil of Christmas, was moved forward a bit so that Compline (Night Prayer—the last prayers of the Divine Office said before bedtime) started at 5:30 pm instead of 7:00 pm. I suppose that was to allow us (yes, me too) to hit the sack early. Except that the Sisters had to be ready to greet the people arriving for, and then sing, the pre-Christmas Midnight Mass hymns, and I had to prepare for Mass. How much sleep could any of us possibly get?

Then came Midnight Mass. For the sake of those of you who have only experienced “Midnight Mass” starting at 8, 9, or 10 pm, let me explain that “Midnight Mass” was once celebrated AT MIDNIGHT, hence its name. I know that is a shock to many of you and perhaps even a relief to finally have an answer to the obvious question of, “Why is it called Midnight Mass if it doesn’t start at Midnight?” It used to. Everywhere. For Christ was born at Midnight. On Christmas Day, December 25. Not 7:35 am sometime in June or 2:47 pm on an unknown date in July. In the first moments of December 25, the Divine Infant was born, and the Church traditionally celebrated the First Mass of Christmas at that time. That Mass was, until recent times, the largest Christmas Mass at most parishes!

The older I get, the more I experience the difficulty of staying awake and alert enough to reverently celebrate Midnight Mass and still be able to be alert and reverent in the morning to celebrate two more Christmas Masses. But God is worth it! May I always be able to keep that schedule out of love for Him!

After the Traditional Midnight Mass (which, because we did not have 650 people to distribute Holy Communion to, lasted less than 2 hours), you might think that everyone immediately went home to get to bed. But no! The Sisters all disappeared as soon as Mass was done. You might think, too, that they went straight to bed. But, again, no!

Fr. Pillari, who gave a beautiful Christmas meditation at the Mass, had invited me and all of the “locals” to a gathering in the social hall after Mass. There were Christmas cookies and other snacks, as well as lemonade and other drinks for everyone to enjoy as they stood around talking and celebrating Christmas morning with each other. I don’t know how long the others “partied,” but I stayed for a while and then went to see if I could find the sand man. I was probably in bed before 3:00 am, so it was just a bit earlier than that same scenario as it used to play out at Epiphany.

The morning schedule allowed a little more sleep than normal for a later wake-up call, and the bell didn’t sound until 5:15 am, beckoning us to prayers at 5:45, and, to accommodate this late start, the Second Mass of Christmas was scheduled at 8:00 am, rather than the normal 7:30 am, and the Third Mass of Christmas wasn’t until 10:30. Back home, I had to wake up early enough to pray about half of the Breviary before the first Mass and the rest during Fr. Mangiafico’s Mass since I would not find time after those Masses were completed. Here, since nobody was heading out to spend Christmas Day with family (other than the convent family), the breviary Hours were spaced out as normal.

It turns out that the Sisters had not gotten much sleep, either, for when we were in the social hall after Mass and everyone thought the Sisters had turned in, they had simply gone to their own refectory for a special Christmas breakfast and games! I doubt they got even the little early-morning sleep that I did!

The best time for a Christmas nap would have been in the middle of the afternoon between prayer times, yet even that was given to others as a gift to the Infant Jesus. The Sisters and I went caroling (they sang, I smiled) at the local nursing home (remember the redneck Christmas tree photo?) to bring Christmas blessings.

There, we got an unexpected sermon by one of the residents. She was quite outspoken from the very beginning. “We are all kind of tired of all of the Christmas songs,” was her first remark before the hymnals were even opened. But she got into it as the Sisters sang the Latin version of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. (Not really. Just seeing if you were paying attention.) She sang the old Carols with gusto and then, between songs, happily informed everyone how happy she was to have the Catholics there. She was Baptist, she proclaimed, but the Baptists started using the piano and guitars—and moving them right up front, no less!—and she wasn’t going for any of that stuff. “God bless the Catholics!” she cried, “Because you haven’t fallen for any of that nonsense!” She preached a lot longer than that, and it was a hoot. It also said a lot about the local Catholics, because the Filiae Laboris Mariae Sisters wouldn’t have been around long enough for her to see just their example, but the good example of the “normal” Catholic parishes in the area.

Skipping ahead to New Year's Eve and Day (I’m told that I write too much just as I talk too much), we gathered in the chapel at 11:15 pm for the Solemn chanting of Prayers for the End of the Year, with the Te Deum, followed by Matins, and completed with Prayers for the beginning of the New Year and the Veni Creator. Once again, after losing hours of sleep, we got to wake up late, at 4:30 am, since we had already prayed Matins.

Given a choice between attending a New Year’s party or this, I would probably have chosen Door Number Three: sleep. That is also why God, in His wisdom, made me a priest, and, beyond that, put me here, so that I couldn’t take the lazy way out! And for that, I am truly thankful.

As for the Sisters who have made this their chosen way of life and the lay people who willingly and without obligation choose to honor and adore Our Lord in these ways on these holy nights, even though they give up sleep, comfort, and money (think: tanks of gas and sometimes hours of driving—some with children in tow—in the middle of the night), I admire and respect you beyond belief!

Merry Christmas and Happy, Holy New Year!

With prayers for your holiness,

Rev. Fr. Edwin Palka

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For those who wish to ask for prayers, discern a Vocation, or make donations:

[The Sisters now have a website! https://filiae.org/]

This blog is not monetized, since the good Sisters give me food and shelter. But if you wish to support the Filiae Laboris Mariae Sisters under my spiritual care, feel free to send them a note to: St. Joseph Convent, 1250 Hackberry Road, Redfield, KS 66769. They constantly pray, and their benefactors will get great spiritual rewards! That is also the address you can send snail mail to me. I suppose you already know or can guess my gmail address with the F*****P**** in front of it!