Recognizing "the inviolability and dignity of the person"

Today I applaud Governor Gavin Newsom's commutation of the death sentences for all 548 people on "death row" in California. I especially appreciate him attending to the survivors of the victims of the crimes committed by those whose sentences he commuted in his letter announcing this momentous decision.

This part of his letter particularly struck me:

Many Californians feel that those who commit brutal crimes deserve to die. But as Governor, I have concluded the state cannot morally kill them. I do, however, pray that this action will finally separate the memories of the victims of these crimes from the fate of those who harmed them

Nonetheless, I don't agree with what he goes on to write about crime and punishment, which I understand politically and reject morally.

Forty years ago, in November 1986, citing his Catholic faith, New Mexico Governor, Tony Anaya, as he was leaving the governorship, commuted the death sentence for all 5 prisoner's on death row in New Mexico. I remember this well as I lived in New Mexico at the time. Remember, too, that it was only 1976 when the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated the death penalty.

As a Catholic, I affirm what the Catechism teaches with regard to the death penalty. This section has been revised twice since the Catechism's promulgation: once by John Paul II and then by Pope Francis. Both papal edits are on the same trajectory.

Recourse to the death penalty on the part of legitimate authority, following a fair trial, was long considered an appropriate response to the gravity of certain crimes and an acceptable, albeit extreme, means of safeguarding the common good.

Today, however, there is an increasing awareness that the dignity of the person is not lost even after the commission of very serious crimes. In addition, a new understanding has emerged of the significance of penal sanctions imposed by the state. Lastly, more effective systems of detention have been developed, which ensure the due protection of citizens but, at the same time, do not definitively deprive the guilty of the possibility of redemption.

Consequently, the Church teaches, in the light of the Gospel, that “the death penalty is inadmissible because it is an attack on the inviolability and dignity of the person”, and she works with determination for its abolition worldwide (CCC, sec. 2267)

I wrote about Pope Francis' change back in 2018 when he made it (see "State your peace tonight").

Last month, in the wake of a highly publicized claim that the forthcoming execution of of Nidal Hassan would be livestreamed, Pope Leo strongly reiterated his and the Church's opposition, not just to the barbaric idea of a livestreamed execution, but to death penalty as such. Posting on X, the Pontiff insisted:

The death penalty is inadmissible because it is an attack on the inviolability and dignity of the person. The common good can be safeguarded and the requirements of justice can be met without recourse to capital punishment: effective systems of detention have been developed that protect citizens while at the same time do not completely deprive those who are guilty of the possibility of redemption

In September of last year, responding to questions about Senator Durbin declining a Church honor that was to be bestowed on him in the Holy Father's native Chicago, Pope Leo said quite bluntly:

Someone who says 'I'm against abortion but says I am in favor of the death penalty' is not really pro-life (see "The Unreceived Teaching"- it is largely, almost exclusively, in the U.S., where support for the death penalty remains quite high, that Catholics seem not to have received this teaching)

The imago Dei is ineradicable, and that is foundational to any truly Christian anthropology.

While we're calling to mind that even a person who has committed a brutal crime still bears the divine image, it seems important to recount the horrific spectacle of the State of Tennessee's terribly botched attempt to execute Christa Pike. Pike's was not the first execution to go horrificially wrong. Since 2020, there have been no fewer than 10 botched executions. Eight of these were attempted lethal injections. One was by firing squad and the other was an attempt to kill by nitrogen hypoxia, which took more than 30 minutes. Five of the ten have occurred since 2024.

The eighth amendment to the U.S. constituion clearly states that "cruel and unusual punishments" are not to be inflicted. By his death and resurrection, as well as in his teaching, our Lord brought an end to the lex talionis.

Make no mistake, that the death penalty is inadmissible and should be abolished worldwide is the official teaching of the Church. The California Catholic Conference, which consists of all the Catholic bishops in California, issued a statement in the wake of Governor Newsom's executive action. In part, the statement reads:

For California’s Catholic community, opposition to the death penalty flows from the conviction that every person is created in the image and likeness of God. In justice, we uphold a consistent ethic of life, protecting the unborn, the vulnerable, victims of violence, and those who are incarcerated. A properly formed conscience motivates individuals and communities to defend all human life because it recognizes the inviolable human dignity in every person.

With this decision, men and women who have been living under a death sentence have the opportunity for repentance, transformation, and rehabilitation

I will continue to preach and teach what the Church teaches and continue to take all the slings and arrows of the dissenters. Is that to say it's not a matter we shouldn't discuss? Not all. Discussion is one thing, but Catholics who are certain they're right contra the Church's authentic magisterium is another thing entirely.

You are free to agree or disagree, the Church has no mechanism to force you one way or the other. This is as it should be. But the Church has the duty to boldly and courageously proclaim the Gospel.

Believing themselves to literally by more Catholic than the Pope, there are some who quite shamelessly attack the Church's ministers for teaching what the Church teaches. Be that as it may, it's important to continue to teach in season and out, letting the chips fall where they will.

November is the month we pray for the dead. Let's pray for the repose of the souls of all those killed by acts of violence. We should also pray for those who survive them, the ones who bear the brunt of these violent crimes.

And like Saint Thérèse, who fervently prayed for the repentance of the murderer Henri Pranzini, let us also pray that in the time granted them, those among the 548 whose sentences Governor Newsom commuted who have not yet done so, will repent of their crimes. Pray also for those who minister in prisons.

Our traditio for this first Friday in November is by a group that is still playing: The Red Rockers. Their cover of the Johnny Cash classic "Folsom Prison Blues" came to mind.

"Life is changed not ended"

Today I attended Mass for All Souls at our Catholic cemetery. In all honesty, it's the first time I've ever gone to Mass at the cemetery. Mass is also celebrated there on Memorial Day in May.

November second is Catholic memorial day. On a brisk fall day, it was nice to see so many people at the cemetery decorating graves of loved ones. People were also walking around, looking at headstones. No doubt, many were saying prayers for those who had no one to pray for them.

I was able to visit the column on which all the names of deceased deacons of my diocese are engraved. It needs to be updated to include the names of those deacons who have passed over the last three years. Especially since this year marks the 50th anniversary of the first men ordained to serve my diocese permanently as deacons, it seemed fitting to pay my brothers respect. It's always nice to remember and think about those I know.

All Souls is beautiful, as is All Saints. Today seems a good time to be reminded that God "wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth" (1 Tim 2:4). It is this emphasis on holiness that links today with yesterday. While we're not saved by our own efforts, salvation and the sanctification it entails is not a passive endeavor on our part. Praying for our dead to help them on their way to God is as old as the Church.

Since Reformation Day is celebrated on October thirty-first, it's a good time to mention indulgences, which can be obtained for the dead. Despite the abuse of indulgences, which served as an immediate cause of the Reformation. After the Second Vatican Council, on 1 January 1967, Pope Saint Paul VI promulgated the Apostolic Constitution Indulgentarium Doctrina. This restatement of the Church's doctrine of indulgences corrects misguided understanding and practice while reasserting their importance.

For All Souls Masses, one of the prefaces for dead is used. These are the prefaces to the Eucharistic Prayer used for funeral Masses. From Preface I For the Dead:

In him [Jesus Christ] the hope of blessed resurrection has dawned,
that those saddened by the certainty of dying
might be consoled by the promise of immortality to come.
Indeed for your faithful, Lord,
life is changed not ended

On a personal note, I am very much enjoying my respite. I like having different experiences, like attending All Souls Mass at the cemetery. It was made nicer by worshiping with so many people I know and love. It was surprising who was there. Better yet, it was gratifying.

In Evening Prayer II for the Office of the Dead, which is prayed today, there are two options for the Responsory for the reading (i.e., 1 Corinthians 15:55-57). In my personal praying of this office, I went with the first: In you, Lord, is our hope. We shall never hope in vain. Followed, after this is repeated once, by, We shall dance and rejoice in your mercy. Amen!

Becoming saints

At least in part because autumn is my favorite season, I adore the annual festival of All Saints/All Souls. Today, I wish to recall that back in 2018, Pope Francis issued the Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et exsultate. This papal exhortation is "On the Call to Holiness in Today's World." I am confident that as time goes by, the depth and richness of Pope Francis' magisterium will be more and more appreciated and, God willing, appropriated.

Much in the vein of Pope Saint John Paul II, in this exhortation Pope Francis sought to show that holiness isn't as rare as we are prone to think. It also serves as a good guide on recognizing holiness. Primarily, the Holy Father sought to exhort us to appropriately strive for holiness, while warning us of the pitfalls of making it a DIY, or self-improvement project, which he identifies as neo-Pelagianism.

Holiness is our baptismal vocation. To be holy is to be like Christ. To be like Christ is to love perfectly. Any other vocation, like vocations to priesthood, religious life, marriage, intentionally living a single life, etc., are but means to the end of becoming like Christ. Hence, this should be a consideration even when choosing a career path.

We can only attain genuine holiness through God's grace. As we read in Gaudete et exsultate:

The Church has repeatedly taught that we are justified not by our own works or efforts, but by the grace of the Lord, who always takes the initiative (sec. 52)

Holiness, of course, is more than God's work in you. While it is certainly that, it is also letting God work in you, cooperating with God's work through the circumstances you face every day, perhaps especially the difficult ones. In other words, God requires your cooperation, your acceptance of his holy will.

Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Fra Angelico, 1434-1435- Courtesy of Google Art Project via Wikipedia

Each of us needs to recognize we have a destiny. Your destiny is the purpose for which God made you, redeemed you, and for which he seeks to sanctify you. Recognizing this makes you a pilgrim on the way. This puts you on a pilgrimage with everyone else who undertakes this journey. Journeying together as pilgrims makes us companions. When taken quite literally from Latin, a companion is someone with whom you share bread. In other words, holiness is cannot be a solo endeavor. Plus, we need food for the journey- danos hoy nuestro pan de cada dia.

A few sections further on in his exhortation on holiness in our time, Francis insisted:

Only on the basis of God’s gift, freely accepted and humbly received, can we cooperate by our own efforts in our progressive transformation. We must first belong to God, offering ourselves to him who was there first, and entrusting to him our abilities, our efforts, our struggle against evil and our creativity, so that his free gift may grow and develop within us: “I appeal to you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God” (Rom 12:1). For that matter, the Church has always taught that charity alone makes growth in the life of grace possible, for “if I do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Cor 13:2)

The three-day annual festival of All Saints/All Souls, which starts with All Hallows Eve, is a deeply eccelesial time. In other words, a time when the Church, understood in her fullness- the Church on earth (i.e., "Church militant"- that is still striving), the Church in purgatory (i.e., "Church penitent"), the Church in heaven ("Church triumphant," but the triumph is not fully realized yet, since the resurrection hasn't happened). In the end, the Church is made up only of saints, of those who our reading from Revelation tells us "are the ones who have survived the time of great distress" (Rev 7:14).

Another aspect of All Saints that is important to note is that the Saints, Blesseds, Venerables, and even the Servants of God, like Luigi Giussani and Cora Evans, are known to us. In keeping with the spirit of Pope Francis' exhortation, especially sections 6-9, entitled "The Saints 'Next Door,'" All Saints is when we acknowledge all those holy women and men whose names and life stories we do not know. As many saints as we venerate, I dare say the number of these unknown and forgotten saints is far greater.

"We belong to the light"

It's Friday! A day of penance, which I try to observe throughout the year by abstaining from meat. It's not really much of a sacrifice not to eat meat one day a week but it's something. It's a venerable tradition I like to observe.

I love All Saints and All Souls, which means I love All Hallows Eve, or Halloween, as we tend to call it. If I'm being honest, I like Halloween better when it falls on a weekday.

Celebrating the communio sanctorum, which refers to the communion of holy people and things, this three-day festival is an ecclesial affair through and through. To use terms now largely (and understandably) outdated, during this triduum, we, the so-called Church Militant, celebrate the Church Triumphant and the Church Pentitent. Translated, those in heaven and those in purgatory.

Like a lot of people, my favorite seasons are the transitional seasons. I don't mind saying I prefer autumn to spring. Maybe that's because I was born in the fall? I also love Thanksgiving. "I care for 'Apple Jacks' a great deal" (a cultural reference to ponder).

Here in northern Utah, we're enjoying a beautiful fall. It's been relatively mild and a bit on the warm side. But we've also had rain and even snow in the higher elevations.

This morning, during my walk, on which my wife was able to join me, something she does a few times a week, we had a nice conversation, appropriate to fall. We discussed transitioning to a new a season of life. Both of us tend to be very busy, too busy we agreed. We like serving and, over the years, have spent a lot of time doing it. We discussed our need to ramp some things down in order to focus on our family, our home, and our relationship. In addition to still having three children at home, we also have responsibility for parental care.

Again, 2026 is proving to be quite a pivotal year. Spiritually, a time of stripping away and/or pruning.

It's been a tradition here on Καθολικός διάκονος over the years to post something on Halloween. But I think today's post will serve that purpose. So, our traditio for the eve of All Hallows Eve will be an old classic by the late and very underappreciated Warren Zevon: "Werewolves of London." I've featured this song before for Halloween. The live version from Jools Holland's show in 2000 features a shoutout to the late and venerable Joe Strummer, who was in studio sitting on some steps.

It's either "Werewolves of London" or "Monster Mash." A week or so ago, a "memory" popped up of a Twitter post (can't really get into calling it "X") I reposted:

Yes, indeed! Thinking some more, it might also be Cliff Richards' "Devil Woman."

In keeping with the tradition, while encouraging people to embrace and enjoy Halloween, over the years I've posted this verse:

For all of you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness (1 Thessalonians 5:5)

This brought to my mind another song. Pat Benatar's "We Belong." Enjoy the holiday/holy day!

The love open to all

Readings: Exodus 22:20-26; Psalm 18:2-4.47.51; 1 Thessalonians 1:5c-10; Matthew 22:34-40

With my graciously granted discretion, after a long day working, I simply attended the Sunday Vigil Mass at the Cathedral last night. Once again, it was beautiful just to worship. Like last week, I heard a good homily.

In considering our readings for this Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time and Year A of the Sunday lectionary, I couldn't help but think about the the scholar of the Law who, in Saint Luke's Gospel, poses the question to Jesus about what is required for eternal life. Replying in true rabbinical fashion, the Lord asks this man what he thinks. This scholar of the Law goes on to give the correct answer: one "inherits eternal life" by loving God with one's whole self and by loving one's neighbor as oneself.

"Because he wished to justify himself," the inspired author of Luke tells us, this scholar posed a further question, the answer to which is less obvious and is still a matter of contention: "And who is my neighbor?" In response, Jesus tells the Parable of the Good Samaritan (See Luke 10:25-37).

Whether we are reading Saint Matthew's version of this teaching of our Lord's or Saint Luke's, it is important to note that loving God with your entire being and loving your neighbor as you love yourself are commanded in the Law (See Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18b). This is why, in Saint Luke's version, the scholar of the Law answers his own question so effortlessly. As noted, his follow-up question, which, according to Luke, is asked from a less than pure motive, remains the question.

Jesus, as he does more than once in Luke's Gospel, uses a Samaritan as the protagonist of his story. A Samaritan? Can you believe it? Not only a Samaritan, but a Samaritan who ministers to a Jew, one whose plight is actively ignored by his fellow, obviously observant, Jews!

We usually miss the provocation of Jesus using a Samaritan as a good example for his fellow Jews. Maybe it would be useful to re-imagine it as something like the "Parable of the Good Muslim" or the "Parable of the Good None," or, where I live, the "Parable of the Good Mormon" to show what it means to love your neighbor, even as we go about what we imagine to be our love of God.

I know this is drawing from another Gospel to reflect on a passage from our Gospel for today. Typically, this is frowned on because each of the four Evangelists sets forth his own theological program, which should be respected. But, since I am not currently preaching, I'm allowing myself this liberty because I think it is very useful in our present moment.

Early in 2025, there was an attempt to distort and misapply the ordo amoris (the "order of love") for some less than laubable political ends. Essentially, the distorted version of the ordo amoris was an attempt, not to pose the question anew, but answer the question, "Who is my neighbor?" in a way that perhaps the scholar of the Law in Luke's Gospel would've answered it had Jesus also turned that question back to him.

Highlighting the silence of U.S. episcopate in the aftermath of this public distortion of the ordo amoris, Pope Francis wrote a letter addressed to the bishops of the United States concerning this matter. Lest there be any confusion about what the Gospel demands, the Holy Father insisted,

The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the “Good Samaritan,” that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception (see "Letter of the Holy Father Francis to the Bishops of the United States of America")

Like Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18b, our reading from Exodus can be taken as the locus in the Law where the answer to the question "Who is my neighbor?" is found.

Your neighbor is the alien, that is, the immigrant, the refugee. Your neighbor is the widow, the orphan, the poor and dispossessed person whom you encounter. God says in Exodus, "I am compassionate." Getting back to Saint Matthew's Gospel, as his followers, Jesus himself commands us to "be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48).

Being like the Father is to be like Christ, which is a work of the Holy Spirit. This certainly means perfecting my compassion by materially and spiritually caring for those who are vulnerable. While it certainly includes those who are like you, your neighbor isn't limited to members of your own race, sex, class, nation, profession, sports nation, or, as Jesus shows in his parable, even your religion. To cite an oft-used quote, the Catholic Church doesn't care for those in need because they're Catholic. We do it because we are.

Our reading from 1 Thessalonians continues without a break from last week's "epistle" reading. Paul commends the members of this Church for imitating him and those who accompanied him to ancient Thessaloniki. By doing so, they imitated Christ, thus serving as an example for others. Among other things, following Christ, now as then, means ceasing to worship idols.

Today, there are many idols. One idol that seems to have gained a following is nationalism. Nationalism is often accompanied by implicit or, increasingly explicit, racism and exclusion of other kinds as well. Sadly, this can bleed over into the Church. At root, this is a manifestation, an unhealthy contraction, of one's understanding of who my neighbor is.

Don't get me wrong, patriotism, which is a properly ordered love for one's country, is a virtue, one that is ordered toward pursuing the common good. Nationalism, by contrast, is a disordered attachment. Nationalism is to patriotism what lust is to love or what gluttony is to hunger.

A recent showing of this unhealthy tendency is the distored and hopelessly simplistic (i.e., race-baiting) political explanations for the rioting in France (for an on-the-ground take by an American in Paris listen to The Bulletin from Friday, 23 October, this discussion runs from 17:24 to 32:57).

In the end, Jesus is quite clear that "The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments"- "love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind" and "love your neighbor as yourself." In Exodus, God speaks quite clearly, not about the importance, but of the necessity to love your neighbor. And so, the question remains for each of us, And who is my neighbor?

While love of God is, in some ways, distinct from love of neighbor, the two cannot be separated. In reality, they are so inextricably bound together that you can't have one without the other.

Rendering what is rendered

Readings: Is 45:1.4-6; Ps 96:1/3.4-5.7-8.9-10; 1 Thess 1:1-5a; Matt 22:15-21

This week's Gospel reading is another one of those that I imagine makes some people groan at the thought of what they are in for homily-wise. Add to this the reading about Cyrus from deutero-Isaiah, and, well, good luck! Without a doubt, there will be many predictable takes on rendering the proper whatever to the appropriate whomever.

In a lot of instances, these rendering duties will be carefully parsed and broken down with no ambiguity, moral or otherwise, left over. I say, "Ho hum." I don't say this because it doesn't matter. I say because it's often teed up to achieve a particular effect and that effect, as we have seen, can sometimes be very misguided, even when well-intentioned.

Perhaps the best insight is our responsorial: "Give the Lord glory and honor."

In our reading from Saint Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians, which consists of the letter's opening verses, we hear about what it means to give honor and glory to the Lord. Dating to around AD 50, it may well be that 1 Thessalonians is first "book" of New Testament to be written. The other possibility for this distinction is 1 Corinthians. Paul starts his epistle by praising the Church in Thessaloniki.

Paul begins by recalling this local church's "work of faith and labor of love and endurance in hope of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Thess 1:3). He praises them for living out the Gospel that was not only preached to them but made imminent for and, more importantly, in them "in power and in the Holy Spirit" (1 Thess 1:5). Indeed, it is the Holy Spirit who also empowers the Gospel to go forth through them. Guess what? This same dynamic still operates today! If we let it.

Taking a cue from the Prologue to the Rule of Saint Benedict, it seems the ancient Christians of Thessaloniki inclined the ear of their hearts toward the Gospel, that is, toward Christ. Christ is the Gospel. He is the Good News in person. It is the Holy Spirit who brings about "conviction" first in a person, thus allowing it to go forth through her/him. This is made manifest in the following verses in which Paul uses himself and his companions during their time in Thessaloniki as examples.

The Greek word translated in the NABRE as "conviction" is plérophoria (transliterated). Historically, plérophoria is most often translated into English as "assurance" or "full assurance." It is, indeed, the Holy Spirit who gives us full assurance of the Gospel.

Before writing that the Gospel did not come to them by words alone, Saint Paul went on to to assert something that is easily missed. Nonetheless, this phrase that is so easy to miss is fundamental, even vital. Paul refers to the Christians of ancient Thessaloniki as "brothers and sisters loved by God" (1 Thess 1:4-italics added).

So, what the apostle is commending them for is living lives fully assured of God's love given in Christ Jesus. Their life is rooted in God's love for them. Hence, their life together and their personal lives are lived as thanksgiving, as a loving response to the love of God, who is love (1 John 4:8.16). In a word, their lives are Eucharist.

God is love. Like the coin that bears Caesar's image in our Gospel reading, each of us ineradicably bears God's image. This means we are made from love in order to love.

Later in the same chapter of Matthew from which our Gospel for this Sunday is taken, Jesus teaches that "The whole law and the prophets depend on" loving God and loving your neighbor (see Matthew 22:34-40). Rendered more accurately, you love God by loving your neighbor (see 1 John 4:19-20). In this way, we render by rendering what we've been rendered.

So, what do you render to God? Yourself, whole and entire. When it comes to politics or anything else, we need to put first things first. Love received and given comes first. Sounds simple and, in reality, it is, or at least ought to be.

I don't about you, but I find living from God's great love for me quite challenging. The witness of the Thessalonians gives me hope. I was struck by today's Collect, by means of which we pray:

Almighty ever-living God,
grant that we may always conform our will to yours
and serve your majesty in sincerity of heart.

And now, the "more in due course"

Yesterday I received a reassignment letter from my bishop. It is dated 1 October 2026, the Memorial of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus. I've been serving in my current parish assignment for the past eleven and a half years.

I had forgotten that when I was given my current assignment by my previous bishop that it was only for a little more than a year. Likely due to my former bishop being moved to a new diocese a month after issuing that letter, an updated assignment letter was never sent. For all practical purposes, that has been my assignment for more than a decade. On the whole, it's been a good and, I hope, fruitful time of ministry. As with all things, there have been ups and downs. Thankfully, more of the former than the latter.

Prior to my current parish assignment, I had served for eleven years at our cathedral. As of 1 June 2027, the cathedral will once again be my assigned parish. Additionally, "with immediate effect," I am assigned to assist my bishop "in liturgical and pastoral duties" across the diocese. Of course, this takes precedence over any parish commitments.

When I went to work "part-time" for the diocese in 2020 while still working my "secular" job full-time, I was given the option of not having a parish assignment. But for the ensuing 6+ years, I've chosen to continue in parish ministry, albeit in a scaled back way. Between now and the end of May next year, I've been given discretion concerning this aspect of ministry as to how much I do. I am grateful that my bishop recognized my desire to take a break from parish ministry between now and next June. I am grateful to my current pastor for being understanding and supportive as well.

Apart from knowing that I need to take some significant time away from parish duties, I have yet to really determine what this interim period will look like. But I am grateful it was granted. This is especially needed given than I am only six months into my full-time work for the diocese, which consists of responsibilities across a number of areas. When I write about this year not only being a year of transitions but of quite challenging ones, this I what I mean. I have still a lot to figure out.

For family and personal reasons, I also need consistent time off. Being busy seven days a week most of the time is something I will no longer do. While I've felt this more acutely the past six months, I believe what I am experiencing is the cumulative effect of living out of balance for a long time.

With this, I am moving forward. Too much handwringing on here on Καθολικός διάκονος as of late. As the song "Closing Time" put it: "every beginning comes from some other beginning's end." As we are at about peak autumn here along the Wasatch Front of the Rocky Mountains, nature reveals this to us quite profoundly and beautifully.

And no, "Closing Time" is not our traditio. Instead, in honor of my "going back," our traditio for this Friday in mid-October is a track from my favorite U2 album, The Unforgettable Fire: "A Sort of Homecoming." Yes, two weeks in a row. Moving forward means starting where you're at.