Saint Joseph Parish:
Receipts for parish purposes: : $1,450.00 from the Sunday envelopes; $30.00 from the second collection (plate); $135.00 from the Dues envelopes; $282.00 from the Building maintenance envelopes; $97.00 from the Fuel envelopes; $39.00 from the loose.
Total: $2,033.00
Receipts for non-parish purposes: — 0 —
Analysis: When one deducts from the total of the receipts for parish purposes ($2,033.00) our weekly financial obligation to the Diocese, i.e. assessments ($329.54), plus our weekly premium for property and casualty insurance ($464.00), plus our weekly subsidy to Trinity Academy ($358.17), the sum total of which is $1,151.17, one sees that $881.83 is available from this collection for operating the parish.

Saint Vincent DePaul Parish:
Receipts for parish purposes: $697.00 from the Sunday envelopes; $34.00 from the second collection (plate); $22.00 from the Dues envelopes; $35.00 from the Fuel envelopes; $222.00 from the Building maintenance envelopes; $45.00 from the loose.
Total: $1,055.00
Receipts for non-parish purposes: — 0 —
Analysis: When one deducts from the total of the receipts for parish purposes ($1,055.00) our weekly financial obligation to the Diocese, i.e. assessments ($229.38), plus our weekly premium for property and casualty insurance ($282.46), plus our weekly subsidy to Trinity Academy ($250.98), the sum total of which is $762.82, one sees that $292.18 is available from this collection for operating the parish.

I find that I can schedule Exposition only once this week, instead of twice, due to various scheduling considerations. Keep in mind, however, that Stations of the Cross includes Exposition and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. See the schedule on page 05.

It has always seemed to me that Jesus and Mary take very particular notice of the people who show up for Stations of the Cross. They look on such persons in much the same way that you and I look upon those relatives and friends and neighbors of ours who are particularly kind to us when we are experiencing tremendous pain and sadness, such as when we are sick or injured or, worse yet, disgraced and humiliated — or when someone in our family has died and we are beside ourselves with grief. Jesus and Mary have a name for people who go faithfully to Stations of the Cross. They call them “our beloved” and “our dearest friends” and “the people we can count on in times of trouble”.

1) Ratio of an igloo's circumference to its diameter = Eskimo Pi
2) 2000 pounds of Chinese soup = Won ton
3) 1 millionth of a mouthwash = 1 microscope
4) Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement = one bananosecond
5) Standard of weight for a Protestant evangelist = one billigram
6) Time it takes to sail 220 yards at one nautical mile per hour = one knot furlong
7) 16.5 feet of silver in the Twilight Zone = one rod sterling
8) Half of a large intestine = one semicolon
9) 1,000,000 aches and pains = one megahertz
10) Basic unit of laryngitis = one hoarsepower
11) Shortest distance between two jokes = one straight line
12) 453.6 graham crackers = one pound cake
13) One million microphones = one megaphone
14) One million bicycles = two megacycles
15) 365.25 days = one unicycle
16) 2000 mockingbirds = two kilos mockingbird
17) 52 cards = one decacards
18) One kilogram of falling figs = one fignewton
19) 1000 milliliters of wet socks = one literhosen
20) One millionth part of a fish = one microfiche
21) One trillion pins = 1 terapin
22) Ten rations = one decaration
23) 100 rations = one C-ration
24) Two monograms = 1 diagram
25) Four nickels = two paradigms
26) Four statute miles of intravenous surgical tubing at Yale University Hospital = one IV League
27) 100 Senators = one indecision

Dear Father,
Although I have not lived in G'ville for more than 50 years, I still try to follow what's happening in my beloved St. Joe's Parish. The cute verse that appeared in the church bulletin on 01-29-12 reminded me of some other things when I was growing up, namely, how men would tip their hats when passing by church and how we were taught to make the Sign of the Cross when passing if we couldn't stop for a visit, and now another verse:
Whenever I pass by a church,
I'd love to make a visit.
But then I find the doors locked tight,
and ask myself "Why is it?"
I guess the answer is that we're not in the 50's anymore!
Respectfully,
Sue (Connors) Palko
Hamburg PA.

Dear Sue:
Glad you liked the verse! So do I! As I mentioned, it’s been in my head since I was a young boy growing up in Philadelphia. I remember very well how I would always take off my hat (if I was wearing one) and bow my head and say, “My Lord and my God” when passing by a Catholic church.
That was “just what we did” when we were growing up and I am glad that we did. I was born in 1938 and there were only two kinds of people in the world: (a) The Catholics and (b) The Poor, Unfortunate People Who Are Not Catholics But Would Be If Only They Knew What Was Good For Them! Believe it or not, there is a 17-year-old boy in my parish who still bows his head and makes the sign of the cross when he passes by a Catholic church. Unfortunately, he is the exception to the rule.
I never heard the “updated version” of that verse. It’s humorous, but it’s sad … and it’s true!
You should know, however, that St. Vincent dePaul Church is “open to the public” all day (side door) for visitors.
We have a surveillance system installed, so as to detect anyone who might enter for inappropriate reasons. I would like to do the same at St. Joseph Church but it would be unwise to do so, because no one is there to keep an eye on things.
During my 22 years in Pottsville, prior to coming to Girardville, I kept St. Joseph Church (Pottsville) open all day, using the same surveillance system. Many people told me how much they appreciated the fact that they could stop in and spend some quiet time with the Lord.
I hope you get back to visit Girardville from time to time. It’s a neat little town: not a whole lot of money, but lots of good people.
With kind regards –
Fr. Edward B. Connolly

Ashes will be blessed and distributed on Ash Wednesday (22 February) as follows:
• During the 08:00 am Mass in St. Joseph Chapel
• During the 11:00 am Mass in St. Joseph Chapel
• At 04:00 pm in St. Vincent dePaul Church (not a Mass)
• During the 07:00 pm Mass in St. Vincent dePaul Church
A few comments about ashes
• All would do well to go to Mass on Ash Wednesday, although it is not an obligation to do so. The 04:00 pm distribution of ashes is for those who are unable to attend Mass that day.
• Blessed ashes are a sacramental, not a sacrament. ANY HUMAN BEING, whether Catholic or not, whether “good Catholic” or “bad Catholic”, is eligible to receive them, provided that he or she does so with sincerity of heart. Cats are not eligible, except for Kateri.
• Receiving ashes implies sorrow for sin and the intention to get one’s act together. Anyone who receives ashes without intending to get his / her act together winds up with a dirty forehead, nothing more, which is kind of pointless and even ostentatious. We don’t recommend it.
• Should a toddler or a babe-in-arms be brought up to receive ashes? There is no Church rule about this, as far as I know. Some priests frown on it; some do not. Yours truly does not frown on it. I think it’s kind of neat and even borderline awesome. “Start ‘em off early” is my philosophy! However, if the tyke starts to scream bloody murder at the prospect of the priest putting ashes on his or her forehead, it might be prudent to give the child a pass. Try again next year.
• Fr. Brennan will have the 07:00 pm Mass on Ash Wednesday. If possible, I shall ashist him with the ashes. (I had to work that sentence in somehow.)

THUNDER / ENLIGHTNING
The following is an excerpt from one of the T/E items in the 12 February edition of the Pottsville Republican:
About the person from Girardville worrying about the drunken Irish parade and buildings falling down on people because of the parade: What about the everyday people that walk through that town, the neighbors and the children? Once again we're always worried about the alcohol and the drunks. Typically Girardville. Born and raised there. Thank God I don't live there.

Ashland

My comment
Actually, I have two comments:
#01 — I am happy to join with you in prayer, giving thanks to God that you don’t live here. And may God bless, protect and preserve the dear Borough of Ashland!
#02 — There is TIPSY and then there is DRUNK! When I was a lad, I learned a little verse that helped me to distinguish one from the other. You might want to learn it too:

The following is one of the T/E items in the 18 February edition:
The "Your View" article by Ms. Gennaro in the Jan. 30 edition of the paper is unfounded. There is nothing in the health care law that says anyone must practice birth control and there is nothing in the law that says we are not free to worship or to abide to church teachings as we see fit. Churches should not meddle in government affairs any more than government should meddle in religion. We have the freedom to choose.

Llewellyn

My comment
One hears this kind of argumentation frequently. I’m referring in particular to the first part of the second sentence of the above item. Please read that again. Then, think! If you take the trouble to think (which so many people do not do), you will understand that the substance of the problem the Catholic Church has with the Obama administration is NOT that Obamacare is forcing us to use “birth control” (contraception). (We are well aware of the fact that no government can force and is forcing any of our members to use contraception. Here is the essence of the protest and I’ll put it in caps so that nobody can miss the point: WE PROTEST THE OBAMA ADMINISTRATION’S ORDER THAT WE, THE CATHOLIC CHURCH, MUST PAY FOR ANYBODY’S BLANKETY-BLANK CONTRACEPTIVE PILLS AND STERILIZATIONS! In other words: If you want to shoot yourself, go ahead. We’re sorry that you want to shoot yourself and we strongly suggest that you don’t, but we’ll be damned before we buy you the bullets to do it!

SOME CATHOLICS GET UPSET with priests who make it a point to preach that it is a mortal sin to use artificial contraception. This is usually due to the fact that they themselves are using artificial contraception or — if they are “past the age” — that they remember that they used to do so and don’t want to be reminded of it because they have long since justified it in their own minds.
This is a sign of spiritual sickness — a sickness unto death, spiritual death.
Such persons should surrender their anger for contrition and make a good confession.
If currently using artificial contraception, they should stop doing so.
If “past the age”, they should be sorry that they did and apply for mercy.
It is totally irrelevant whether a Catholic “agrees with” or “disagrees with” the teaching of the Church. To “disagree with” the solemn teachings of the Church is
vain and disastrous. We are to be one in mind and one in heart with the Church. To “disagree with the Church on a defined teaching” is the highest kind of pride and vanity.

Q / What are cardinals?
A / Cardinals are at least four things: (a) birds with red plumage; (b) a major-league baseball team based in St. Louis MO; (c) an NFL football team based in Tempe AZ; (d) highly distinguished Catholic clergy, (almost always bishops but could be priests) who advise the Pope and who form a college of electors when it is necessary to elect a new Pope. A cardinal who is 80 years old remains a cardinal but loses his right to vote for a new Pope. Today (18 Feb), the Pope held a consistory and invested 22 new cardinals, among them two Americans: Dolan and O’Brien. Here is an up-to-date list of the seventeen American cardinals. Of these seventeen, twelve are currently eligible to be electors (until they turn 80) and five are ineligible (because they are past 80). I have marked these five with an asterisk (*).
Personal comment: I don’t approve of the rule that takes the vote away from a cardinal when he turns 80. That rule was made by Pope Paul VI in 1970. I loved and respected Pope Paul VI, but I must say that he didn’t solicit my input before he made that rule. I intend, when I become Pope, to give the vote back to the old guys!

I don’t know who wrote this but I thank him or her for writing it. It was sent to me by a friend.
I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night. He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, “Are you there, God?” he said. “Where are you? Oh, I see! Under the bed!”
I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in. He was born thirty years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size — he's six foot, two inches — there are few ways in which he is an adult.
He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a seven-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.
I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?
Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, back again to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner and, a little later, off to bed.
The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.
He does not seem dissatisfied.
He lopes out to the bus every morning at 07:05, eager for a day of simple work.
He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.
And Saturdays — oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, to watch the planes land and to speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside. “That one's goin' to Chi-car-go!” Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.
His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights. And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn't know what it means to be discontent. His life is simple.
He will never know the entanglements of wealth or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.
His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.
He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.
He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure.
He still believes: that everyone tells the truth; that promises must be kept; that, when you are wrong, you have to say you’re sorry instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God.
Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God — to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an educated person to grasp. God seems to be his closest companion.
In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith. It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.
It is then I realize that, perhaps, he is not the one with the handicap. I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances — they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.
Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.
And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.
Kevin won't be surprised at all!
My comment: There are people — they are called “pro-choicers” — who think that, if only we could have identified Kevin’s disability before he emerged from the birth canal, we could have — OMG! OMG! OMG! — killed him and left his corpse out with the garbage before he had a chance to defile our precious planet with his worthless presence! But we missed our chance! Drat the luck! Kyrie, eleison! Christe, eleison! Kyrie, eleison! Christe, eleison! Kyrie, eleison! Christe, eleison! COME, LORD JESUS!