While loitering in St. Peter’s Basilica a few summers back like the lackadaisical dreamer I am, I took special note of a Mass being offered at the altar under which which Pope St. Pius X is entombed. A woman was saying the responses, and at first I got the (apparently incorrect) impression that she was serving at the altar as well. I thought to himself, “St. Pius would turn over in his grave if he saw this.” Then it occurred to me that Pius’ corpse was *right there,* visibly on display in a glass case under the altar. If he had turned over, we all would have been privy to it. I guess he does not take such things as much to heart as I do. That, or he’s patiently biding his time for vengeance until the Final Judgment. Va bene, as the Italians say.

Very cool, I think, how the students at the Charterhouse School are known as “Carthusians” and the alumni as “Old Carthusians”. Amusing the silly word play of William Makepeace Thackeray in referring to his old school as the “Slaughterhouse” (e.g., in Vanity Fair). But another sad reminder in this school of the destruction wrought by the protestants at the time of their revolt, led in England by Henry VIII. I keep hoping that Eamon Duffy’s The Stripping of the Altars will be released as an audio book. I’ve been given the impression that it’s an interesting read in light of the not altogether dissimilar happenings after the Second Oecumenical Council of the Vatican.

I certainly don’t have any illusions about the profound heights to which post-conciliar ecumenism can soar – one need only recall the Servant of God and now Venerable Karol Wojtyla kissing the Qu’ran (did the devil’s advocate mention that one?) – but this reciprocal candle lighting in New York City baffles me. I kinda sorta maybe see how Archbishop Dolan can stroll over to the local synagogue to light a candle in commemoration of an historical event in the life of Israel before the advent of Christ. But how does the rabbi return the visit by lighting one of those candles which anticipate the coming in the flesh of Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? Shouldn’t Dolan have apprised him of this fact? Or if the rabbi allows himself to participate on the basis that he’s only helping the goyim commemorate a myth important to them, isn’t Dolan allowing our Faith to be misrepresented? I’d be interested to know the traditional stance of the Church vis-a-vis Hanukkah, but we certainly recognize the Maccabean martyrs. Or does Dolan know that this rabbi is secretly a Jew for Jesus? I guess it’s just another day in the life of coming to understand better the diverse faith communities among which we live.

Well, seeing as I have not recently become a parent, I guess the duty of writing our semi-monthly posting falls to me.  When ever Something New enters the world, there will usually be someone on the (for lack of a better word) religious right who will Find Fault with it.  A certain brand of traditionalist Catholics laments the invention of TV, microwave ovens, automobiles, and electronically powered devices.  I find this trend rather obnoxious.   They have confused Catholicism with Luddism.  There are grave dangers with new technology — just as there are grave dangers with old technology.  Some people condemn the Internet because of Internet porn.  Does it occur to them to condemn photography too?  After all, the Internet would not work so well as a porn conveyor if there weren’t cameras in the world.  Maybe we should ban cameras.  So I recently read about a priest who lambasted Facebook.  Yep, there are a lot of ways to go wrong with Facebook — just as there a lot of ways to go wrong with libraries, taverns, and places of employment.  Anyway, this priest, who was no doubt well-intentioned, noted that — apparently, I guess — there is a phrase “pimp my Facebook page.”  It means to deck one’s page out with all sorts of features.  The priest suggests that this is immodest.  Okay, I can see how this expression would shock a priest.  But context is important here.  The priest may have inferred that this was a direct reference to prostitution, as though the people who used the phrase meant that they aimed to make their Facebook pages somehow more whorish.  No.  The expression is derived from “pimp my ride,” which means to fit one’s car out with all sorts of accessories.  The origin of this is the perception, probably reinforced by exploitation films from the 1960s and 1970s, that black pimps in the ghetto show off their status by driving very swank cars with ridiculous accoutrements.  Hence the phrase, “pimp my ride,”  a reference to a particular fascination with automobile accessories.  From there the phrase becomes more general and applicable to one’s Facebook page.  We are now very far removed from prostitution.  Most people probably don’t really think of the sexual connotation, and those who do are laughing about their stereotypes of the vain, peacock-feather-in-his-fedora-wearing pimp.  Bad?  Maybe.  Starkly evil and suggestive of Facebook’s whoremongering?  No.  And I had never heard the expression before I read the priest’s article.