The View From My Cave

I feel a little better today. More tests are needed but my doctor thinks I’m gonna survive.

Since my illness, I have been hibernating inside my cave so I feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up to a different world. Seems like I haven’t opened my email for weeks. I glimpse at the headlines and popular videos and here’s a random list of what I observe. See if you agree with me.

Media hasn’t changed. Biased reporting and omission are still the same in both sides of American politics. Now that Trump is no longer around, there’s not a lot of shouting (although I hear a little tweak from his small corner in the world). Late night talk is boring (although they try their best to be sensational). Some dare poke fun at Pres. Biden sleeping and falling down the stairs but I want to know how he is really doing. I heard he’s going to build a trillion dollar government infrastructure. That should be good, right? I wonder why VP Kamala is laughing a lot when she is confronted with some serious questions. Isn’t she supposed to be the border czar? Why do I see droves of illegals crossing the border (thousands everyday I heard) … many children in cages? Are they infected? Are they getting vaccinated before the American citizens? I notice gas price is a dollar more than last year. Weren’t we oil independent? Weren’t we even exporting oil? Is it at the expense of Climate Change? Didn’t everybody (from both sides) hate Governors Cuomo and Newsom? What’s the secret to their staying power?

I heard George Floyd’s killer (I could never remember his name) is declared guilty. Last year it was all about White violence against the Blacks. This year it’s about Asian violence … funny that they’re afraid to mention the race that is doing most of the violence. There’s a sale in Aldi’s — blueberries for 99 cents a pack! There are lots of toilet paper! Whoopie! Our butts are saved! The education system is finally holding in-person classes. My grand kids are happy. The restaurants are finally open. I wish I could say the same for other businesses. Many shops around me are bankrupt. The shopping malls are still empty. Local air travel is available. The stock market is in a roller coaster ride. Investment forecasters are contradicting each other. Where do you invest?

Covid in the US is dwindling down but not in Asia including the Philippines, India, Japan and more. There, life has gone from bad to worse as doctors and nurses are dying. The rest are scrambling for less effective vaccines — and they’re even paying good money for it! “It’s better than nothing,” they say. I’m praying for them. There’s a civil war in Myanmar — what a mess! China is extending its borders in the South China sea and about to swallow Taiwan. American battleships are floating close by. Russia is about to pounce on Ukraine. With no restriction, Iran is getting closer to developing their nuclear weapons. Israel has launched several attacks for their survival. Poor Prince Philip passed away but Queen Liz is still alive and kicking. Meanwhile in Hollywood … nah! … who cares about Hollywood?!

Are my perceptions accurate? Am I missing something? You guys decide if things are good or bad. I’m  crawling back to my cave to sleep. Wake me when the war’s over.

TGIF People!

Raoul

Joke of the Week

Rodney was one of my closest friends. He was very creative and he would make up his own jokes. Here is one of his jokes.

Video of the Week

Thanks to Don who shared this sad, sad video

Parting Shots

Thanks to Art of Sierra Madre, CA

Thanks to Mel of Washington D.C.

Thanks to Tom of Pasadena, CA

Thanks to Peter Paul of South Pasadena, CA

The post 5 Deadly Sins appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Home Creatures

Something went wrong with the program that launches my TGIF email. I couldn’t finish my email for this week, the way I want to. Sorry if you were hoping for some profound thoughts or interesting story but I’ve run out of time.  I’ll just share a short story about the creatures in my home.

I’ve moved my office to the living room because our dog, Tonka, was feeling lonely. At first I didn’t know why he was howling like a wolf until I realized he only howled when my wife would leave for work. I figured that Tonka was actually mourning — mourning every morning (groan!) because I used to lock myself in my cave during office hours and Tonka would be left alone until my wife’s return at the end of the day. The 3 cats somehow weren’t enough to keep her happy. So here I am finishing my TGIF email in the living room to keep Tonka company. Still getting used to the dog licking my legs and the 3 cats parading in front of my computer — teasing me to pet them.

When our Shitzu passed away I was so heartbroken and I said I didn’t want any more pets. But my wife and daughter had other ideas. I resisted but it was futile. Now I’m surrounded by 4 furry animals everyday. It’s not fair!  I don’t feed them, I don’t do any of the heavy lifting… I just give them a massage. Sigh!

Be safe, be healthy, and remember: God created pets to be loved even by pet haters like me. TGIF people!

Raoul

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.  for sharing this joke.

Video: Priestly Blessing

Thanks to Jayjay of Makati, Philippines
A humorous short clip of a priest blessing a child.

Video: A Man, A Dog and A Hummingbird

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.
Heartwarming: I didn’t know you could train hummingbirds. I see them in my garden all the time. Cute and fast little creatures.

Don’s Puns

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. who sent this pun.

Parting Shots (Senior Special)

Thanks to Mel of Washington D.C. for 2 senior gags

Also from Mel

We end with a set of Senior gags from Tom of Pasadena, CA

The post No Time for Novacaine appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The “E” Word

Today I gave someone a very valuable gift.

In my property management business, I have to make some unpopular decisions. One of the residents had very expensive repairs done to her home and I had to build a case to bill her for it. She was told about it and she flared up and insisted that it was the Home Owners Association that was responsible for the payment and not her. After much research and deliberation, I believe that legally she really was supposed to pay for this and I was prepared to go to battle with her. This could have escalated into World War III but one thing led to another and the board members decided not to pursue the matter anymore. So I wrote her and told her the good news. I thought she would dance for joy but all I got was “big deal, I knew I was right all along.”

She was unaware that she was inches away from a legal battle. Instead, she felt entitled.

Entitlement is a big thing nowadays. Many have died because of a suicidal terrorist’s entitlement to bring others down with him. Many march in arms because they are entitled to money they never worked for. In California some of the homeless pollute the streets because they are entitled to be taken care of.

Entitlement. Follow it’s selfish path and you lose your self worth. It makes you bitter and never satisfied. Its negativity spreads like a virus. It hurts the unappreciated on the other side. It’s an easy inviting path (I’ve fallen into its trap sometimes) so thank you for defending against it.

But this is just me … and I’m tired … and I’m entitled to my opinion. :-).

TGIF people!

Raoul

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.  for sharing this joke.

Don’s Puns

Sent by Don of Kelowna, B.C.

Assuring Video: Baking Can Be A Real Piece of Art

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, BC for sharing this amazingly realistic objects that are actually cake.

Parting Shot

Thanks to Naomi of N Hollywood who sent this joke.

The post Lemon Squeeze appeared first on Traveling Archive.

On a recent trip to Mexico City, my wife and I were exploring the Roma Norte Neighborhood, courtesy of Visit Mexico City.  Located on the edge of the city’s bustling downtown and historical sites, we were just about to take a break in one of Roma Norte’s idyllic tree-lined pocket parks, when a small building, adjacent to a parish church, caught our attention.  Its sign read: Museo Padre Pro. The name sounded curiously familiar, so we went inside.

Museo Padre Pro

The museum was small, but felt spacious, allowing emotional space to reflect on this man Pro and his remarkable life story. At the entrance to the museum, books, posters and postcards were sold. All the information was in Spanish, but fortunately I was with my Spanish-speaking wife, who translated Pro’s history to me. His story was of a  Catholic priest who defied the fiercely anti-clerical and anti-Catholic provisions of the 1917 Constitution, which were now vigorously enforced in 1926. This enforcement resulted in severe penalties for priests, including death, who criticized the government or wore clerical garb outside their churches. The articles also mandated secular education in schools, prohibiting the Church from participating in primary and secondary education, forbade public worship outside of church buildings and restricted religious organizations to own property. The final article revoked basic civil rights of clergy members, denying priests and religious workers the right to vote. The law led to the horrific Cristero War, named for the Catholic combatants’ slogan, Viva Cristo Rey! (long live Christ the King!)  An armed peasant rebellion soon formed, supported by the Catholic Church.

When we explored the museum further, we found that it  was tastefully showcased with all things Padre Pro, including  photographs, artifacts, letters, newspaper clippings and a blood-stained vest, protected behind glass, which Pro wore at the moment of his death.

The Power and the Glory & Graham Greene

I realized that Padre Pro’s narrative sounded very familiar to the 1940 novel, The Power and the Glory by British author Graham Greene. Known as the “great Catholic novelist,” Greene tells the story of a renegade Roman Catholic priest (or “whisky priest” — a name used in anti-religious propaganda) living in the Mexican state of Tabasco at the very time when the Mexican government was attempting to suppress the Catholic Church.   That suppression had resulted in the above Cristero War (1927-1929). In my naiveté I thought Greene’s novel was a work of fiction. I mean how could this really have happened without me not knowing about it. But, it did happen.  And Greene called it the fiercest persecution of religion anywhere since the reign of Elizabeth. The persecution was most severe in Tabasco under the notorious anti-Catholic governor Tomás Garrido Canabal. Worshipping God was outlawed, and Canabal closed all the churches in the entire state. His regime systematically hunted down all serving priests, forcing them to denounce the Church, and some to marry. One priest refused to comply.

José Ramón Miguel Agustín Pro Juárez

Padre Pro was born 1891 in Guadalupe, Mexico to a wealthy mining family. He entered the Jesuit novitiate in Mexico until 1914 when the first wave of governmental anti-Catholicism forced the novitiate to dissolve and the Jesuits to flee to Los Gatos, California. He then studied in Spain, taught in Nicaragua and for his theological studies, was sent to Belgium, where the French Jesuits (also in exile) had their faculty of Theology. He was ordained a priest on August 31, 1925. His first assignment was to work with the miners of Charleroi, Belgium where he was able to win the miners over, preaching the Gospel. One of his companions said that he had never seen such an exquisite wit, never coarse, always sparkling.  He was noted for his charity and ability to speak about spiritual subjects without boring his audience.

A Return Home to Mexico

In 1926, the Jesuits sent Pro to Mexico City just three days after Plutarco Elías Calles banned all public worship. Since he was not known as a priest, Padre Pro went about clandestinely — sometimes in disguise of a variety of professions — celebrating Mass, distributing communion, baptizing children, hearing confessions, anointing the sick, and even celebrating weddings. He would often dress as a beggar to collect money for the poor. The whole time, he was risking his life because public worship was explicitly outlawed and priests would be arrested immediately. Pro served a Church which was forced to go “underground.” He continued to secretly administer sacraments to small groups of Catholics. Details of Pro’s ministry in the underground church come from his many letters displayed in the museum.

We carry on like slaves. Jesus help me! There isn’t time to breathe, and I am up to my eyebrows in this business of feeding those who have nothing. And they are many—those with nothing. I assure you that I spin like a top from here to there with such luck as is the exclusive privilege of petty thieves. It doesn’t even faze me to receive such messages as: “The X Family reports that they are twelve members and their pantry is empty. Their clothing is falling off them in pieces, three are sick in bed and there isn’t even water.”  As a rule my purse is as dry as Calles’s soul, but it isn’t worth worrying since the Procurator of Heaven is generous.

People give me valuable objects to raffle off, something worth ten pesos that I can sell for forty. Once I was walking along with a woman’s purse that was quite cute (the purse not the woman) when I met a wealthy woman all dolled up.

What do you have there?

A lady’s purse worth twenty-five pesos. You can have it for fifty pesos which I beg you to send to such-and-such a family.

I see God’s hand so palpably in everything that almost—almost I fear they won’t kill me in these adventures. That will be a fiasco for me who sighs to go to heaven and start tossing off arpeggios on the guitar with my guardian angel.

Soon under surveillance by the Calles regime, a failed attempt to assassinate Álvaro Obregón, provided the state with a pretext for arresting Pro.  A man confessed his part in the plot, testifying that Pro was not involved, but this was ignored.

In prison, unsure of his fate, Pro spent his time praying for the others in confinement and for the salvation of humankind. On the morning of November 23, a guard appeared at the cell door and called for Padre Pro. He turned to the other prisoners and exclaimed, Good-bye, brothers, till we meet in Heaven!

The policeman who escorted him out was filled with remorse, and asked Pro to forgive him for his part in this injustice. Padre Pro threw his arms around the officer and said, Not only do I pardon you, but I am grateful to you, and I shall pray for you. The thirty-six-year-old Jesuit was led onto the firing range. The major asked him whether he wished to express any last will. The humble padre answered firmly, Permit me to pray. Padre Pro then knelt down. He kissed a crucifix in his right hand, and clenched Rosary Beads with his left.

Refusing a blindfold, the prisoner stood erect, and said calmly, Lord, Thou knowest that I am innocent. As a last priestly gesture, he raised his consecrated hand, and made the Sign of the Cross over the spectators. Then, addressing himself to those who were about to kill him, he said, May God have mercy on you. May God bless you. With all my heart I forgive my enemies! As the soldiers lifted their rifles, he exclaimed loudly, Viva Cristo Rey!

The guns sounded, and the cruciform figure of one of Mexico’s greatest contemporary heroes, fell to the ground, riddled with bullets. To make sure that the victim was no longer living, a centurion fired a shot at close range into the martyr’s head.

Calles had the execution meticulously photographed, and the newspapers throughout the country carried photos on the front page the following day. Calles thought that the sight of the pictures would frighten the Cristero rebels who were fighting against his troops. However, it had the opposite effect. Over 40,000 people lined the streets for his funeral, even though their actions were illegal. Another 20,000 waited at the cemetery to see him buried. There was no priest openly present. The Cristeros became more animated and fought with renewed enthusiasm, many of them carrying the newspaper photos of Pro before the firing squad.

Pro’s arrest, lack of trial, and evidential support gained prominence during the Cristero War. Known for his religious piety and innocence, he was beatified on September 25, 1988, by Pope John Paul II as a Catholic martyr, killed in odium fidei (in hatred of the faith).

The Power and the Glory – Final Words

The title, The Power and the Glory of Greene’s novel is an allusion to the doxology often added to the end of the Lord’s Prayer: For thine is the kingdom, (and) the power, and the glory, now and forever (or forever and ever), amen. The novel of fiction is intended as a metaphor for the Cristero war.

The “whisky priest,” (his only name in the novel) is on the run from the authorities, who will kill him if he is caught. He is far from the finest example of his profession; he is an alcoholic who once fathered a child, whom he never acknowledges. In his younger days he was arrogant and self-satisfied. Now as a fugitive, he feels guilty for his mistakes and sins. As the last priest in the state of Tabasco, he continues to secretly perform his priestly functions, but with extreme difficulty and reluctance. Before his final attempted ascent to safety over the mountains, he secretly visits a practicing Catholic family, where he performs various religious testaments. The family both feed and hide him. It is believed that the “whisky priest” is based on Padre Pro, though much liberty has been taken with his character.

The “lieutenant” (also his only name in the novel) is the chief adversary of the priest. He is obsessed with catching him and leads a posse into the mountains. He despises the church which he considers corrupt and has held back the prosperity of the poor. He takes hostages from the villages and kills them when he feels it’s necessary. However, the “lieutenant” is also idealistic, and believes in radical social reform that would end poverty and provide education for everyone. He is capable of acts of personal kindness, as when he gives money to the “whisky priest,” whom he mistakenly thought to be a destitute drunkard. He then ruthlessly continues to pursue the priest. The “lieutenant” represents Garrido Canabal.

Once the “whisky priest” is in the mountains he meets a homeless beggar, who tags along with him. The priest believes that he will be his Judas, for a large sum of money is offered for the knowledge of his whereabouts. The beggar disappears as the priest gets closer to safety. But the priest stops to attend to the spiritual needs of a dying man.  This leads to his eventual capture by the “lieutenant” and the “whisky priest’s” death .

The novel ends with the Catholic family with whom the “whisky priest” previously hid and conducted secret services for them.  There is a knock on their door. Rather than it being the “lieutenant” to arrest them, it is a new priest.

Many thanks to the people who assisted me with this article.

Learn more about the Museo Padre Pro

See a video courtesy of Museo Padre Pro

Learn more about Visit Mexico City

The post A Profile in Courage — The Story of Padre Pro appeared first on Traveling Archive.