The Desert Fathers, Sunday, May 1, 2011

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Christ is Risen, and you (Hades) are annihilated! Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down! Christ is Risen and the angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and life is liberated! Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead; for Christ having risen from the dead is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep… Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Saviour has set us free.

St. Cyril of Alexandria

Founders Friday, Friday, April 29, 2011

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Each individual of the society has a right to be protected by it in the enjoyment of his life, liberty, and property, according to standing laws. He is obliged, consequently, to contribute his share to the expense of this protection; and to give his personal service, or an equivalent, when necessary. But no part of the property of any individual can, with justice, be taken from him, or applied to public uses, without his own consent, or that of the representative body of the people. In fine, the people of this commonwealth are not controllable by any other laws than those to which their constitutional representative body have given their consent.


John Adams, Thoughts on Government, 1776

Wacky Wednesday, Spike Jones, Coctails for Two

It's Wednesday, we've made it half way through the week, it's time to kick back and enjoy a laugh or two with Spike Jones and His City Slickers.  Enjoy!

Easter Wings by George Herbert

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poor:
With thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did begin:
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sin,
That I became
Most thin.
With thee
Let me combine
And feel this day thy victory:
For, if I imp my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

A Holy Saturday Surprise

Here was a pleasant Holy Saturday surprise in our back yard this afternoon. We saw what we think are the parents to this young fellow back in January when they were in the cul-de-sac. The male came almost right up to the house, apparently feeling someone was watching him.

These pictures were taken THROUGH THE BACK WINDOW, I wasn't quite up to going out to get better shots.

Happy Easter.

P.S. This could be a Bobcat, but I vote for Lynx as bobcats usually only come out at night.  The Department of Wildlife says it's more common to see bears in Colorado Springs than bobcats.

Holy Saturday

“SEPULCHER” – by George Herbert



Oh blessed body! Whither art thou thrown?
No lodging for thee, but a cold hard stone?
So many hearts on earth, and yet not one
                    Receive thee?


Sure there is room within our hearts good store;
For they can lodge transgressions by the score:
Thousands of toys dwell there, yet out of door
                  They leave thee.


But that which shows them large, shows them unfit.
Whatever sin did this pure rock commit,
Which holds thee now? Who hath indicted it
                   Of murder?


Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain thee,
And missing this, most falsely did arraign thee;
Only these stones in quiet entertain thee,
                  And order.


And as of old, the law by heav’nly art,
Was writ in stone; so thou, which also art
The letter of the word,3 find’st no fit heart
                 To hold thee.


Yet do we still persist as we began,
And so should perish, but that nothing can,
Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man
                Withhold thee.

Holy Thursday, William Blake

'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:
Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.

Oh what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wild they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among:
Beneath them sit the aged man, wise guardians of the poor.
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

William Blake