Pray For Anu Garg? You Betcha!

Remember me and my pal Anu Garg? We went around the block a few times. Well unlike all the other times I've posted about him and his A.Word.A.Day website, this time my hat is off to him. Maybe caught wind of today's readings.

For Thoughts On the Misery of Man

Here are a few words in prose from my gifted friend Blaise Pascal. They should need no explanation, but only the observation that this particular mathematical genius understands human nature (at least mine, if no one else's) and he can write as clear as the peal of a bell.

To Introduce Blaise Pascal to Stephen Hawking? Why Not!

—Feast of Pope St. John I 

All over the news we read (and hear) that Stephen Hawking says Heaven is "a fairy tale story for people that are afraid of the dark." The darkness of death that is. By the way, this isn't some new stance of his, in case you missed the interview he did with Charlie Rose back in 2008.

It's ironic that in that clip he mentions there not being much room for miracles because the first time I mentioned Hawking in a post, it was the one I wrote about St. Joseph of Cupertino. I reckon he figures all the miracles documented by the Church are just fairy stories though. No matter.

Because Blaise Pascal Spoke Truth to Power Like this

I love Blaise Pascal. I've said that before a number of times. The guy accomplished more in the thirty-nine short years of his life than I ever will, and I look forward to sharing a beer with him in Heaven. And if he doesn't like beer, I'll share a glass of wine with him instead.

He is a mathematical genius who can also write well. His Pensées are easy to read, easy to understand, and he gets right to the point. And as unlikely as our friendship may seem to you (dead guy genius befriends knuckle-headed, and still living, Marine), the Holy Spirit brought us together. So go figure.

Because of the Note Sewn In Blaise Pascal's Coat

Feast of St. Polycarp  

My buddy Blaise Pascal is a lot like me. That is, excepting the obvious fact that he was a mathematical genius, inventor of a calculator etc., and though I enjoy mathematics, I am a mere admirer of genius in this and many other departments. No, I mean that just like me, he needed something to constantly remind him of why he remains a Christian.

Something that he could turn to for reminding him why he left his earlier life and pursuits and decided to give his all to Christ and His Church. Something he could turn to that would remind him of his calling, when he was in "the world" but away from his Bible, his breviary, or his rosary.

For the Faith and Witness of Stan Musial

Feast of St. Onesimus  

I saw a press release today from the Catholic News Service about three Catholics who were awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom at the White House.

Pardon me if I ignore the other two, because as a baseball dad, the only part of the announcement that I saw was the one that was about the Hall of Famer. Stan "the Man" Musial was one of the honorees!

Because the Saints Are Alive

Back in November of 2007, it never would have crossed my mind that I would stand in front of my parishes RCIA group giving a talk on the Communion of Saints. And yet three years later that is exactly where I found myself.

A few weeks ago I asked our readers here for pointers on what I should cover. Then, I put together a killer slide show and even planned to show a clip (or two) from the movie The Reluctant Saint.

Because Blaise Pascal Tells it Like It Is

—Feast of St. Evaristus 

A friend of mine, who knows of my affinity for Blaise Pascal, sent me a link to an essay written by Peter Kreeft. It is very well written and from the foreword of Kreeft's book about Blaise entitled Christianity for Modern Pagans: Pascal's "Pensees."

The essay is quite good, and Kreeft argues that for the modern age, Blaise is one of the best Catholic apologists going. Below is a short chapter, an essay really, on the real you and me by Blaise himself. OK, maybe it's not the real you, but when I was reading the Pensées, I knew Blaise had me down cold. It was like hearing the tune Killing Me Softly, sung by Roberta Flack.

With God's Grace And A Little Help From My Friends

When I was a newly minted Marine, fresh out of boot camp and on my way into life, I was certain that I could lick it. Everything was possible, and all would be right in the world. Well, maybe not the whole world, but my world would be just fine. I realized that I was no all-powerful genie, but I had complete confidence in the unholy trinity of me, myself, and I. The winner, which I knew I was, would take all.

This delusion persisted for quite some time.

Because of Catholics Like Raymond Lull

For the longest time, I just knew that I was too smart to be a Catholic. I mean, I wasn't a cradle Catholic, born into the Church or anything. I just figured that being born into the Church was really the only way that anyone would become a Catholic. Surely not via God-given free will, because no one with a brain would willingly submit to the Church and all those wacky "man-made" doctrines and such.

Because of Blaise Pascal’s Letter upon the Death of his Father

Webster has been serving at funerals lately, one in early December and one just a few days ago. And in a prediction that is all too likely to come to fruition, he believes he will attend the funeral of at least one dear friend this year. Reading these posts, I reflect on the fragility of human life and the sudden impact on our loved ones lives when we depart this mortal coil.

A sudden death, an accidental death, the unexpected death is always a shocker. Others are blessed with an illness—or maybe it's not a blessing, to see the train enter the station that will inevitably bear them away. There is pain, and suffering in the long drawn-out route to eternity.

To Be Frank, Part 3, “What the Blazes, Blaise?!”

Posted by Frank
I’m a baseball fan. I love the game! I never really played it that well as a kid, but my oldest son is pretty good. He didn’t play ball on an official team until he was seven years old, but I started pitching Wiffle Balls to him when he was three or four.

I played softball in the Marines a bit, but my son’s ability, along with normal “dad” tendencies, led to a love affair with this game that has become a big part of my life. Our whole family bleeds Dodger Blue! And having been taught to hit the ball by a grizzled “old salt” of a Marine Master Sergeant (in Cairo, Egypt of all places), and having taught my son to switch-hit, I am of the mind that I can hit the ball pretty well.

To Be Frank, Part 2, “A Change of Course Thanks to Blaise Pascal”

Posted by Frank
I left off last time with the prospect of broadening my mind with the great works of Western thought in the Harvard Classic Five-Foot Shelf of Books (HCFFSB). I was ready to wade into the deep valleys and high pinnacles of the works that molded Western civilization as we know it today. But where to start?
I looked over the choices by scanning the titles embossed in gold lettering on the spines of the volumes. I wasn’t in the mood for poetry so Volume 4, Complete Poems in English, Milton, was out. So was Volume 6, Poems and Songs, Burns (but I would be back for that one). The Aeneid? I had read that already when I was a young warrior. Ditto for Emerson. I was all about Self-Reliance anyway—yawn. Two Years Before the Mast? Sorry—I’ve been at sea for a year with the Royal Navy, fella, via Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin series, and it’s time to hit port!