Saint Louis Catholic

Subscribe to Saint Louis Catholic feed Saint Louis Catholic
Unabashedly Catholic News and Views
Updated: 14 min 25 sec ago

Great Post on Rogation Days and a Timely Call

Mon, 05/06/2024 - 17:32

Thanks to Ann B, who posted a link to this. Saints in Heaven, pray for us!

Categories: Lay, Traditional

Fr. John Hunwicke, Requiescat in Pace

Fri, 05/03/2024 - 14:28

I just learned today that the great convert and Catholic priest, Fr. John Hunwicke, passed away yesterday. In your charity please pray for the repose of his soul.

Eternal rest grant unto him, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.

Categories: Lay, Traditional

Month of May, Month of Mary

Wed, 05/01/2024 - 16:16

‘Month of May, month of Mary! The heart of every Christian turns spontaneously toward his heavenly Mother, with a desire to live in closer intimacy with her and to strengthen the sweet ties which bind him to her. It is a great comfort on our spiritual way, which is often fatiguing and bristling with difficulties, to meet the gentle presence of a mother. One is so at ease near one’s mother. With her, everything becomes easier; the weary, discouraged heart, disturbed by storms, finds new hope and strength, and continues the journey with fresh courage.

“If the winds of temptation arise,” sings St. Bernard, “if you run into the reefs of trials, look to the star, call upon Mary. In danger, sorrow, or perplexity, think of Mary, call upon Mary.” There are times when the hard road of the “nothing” frightens us, miserable as we are; and then, more than ever, we need her help, the help of Our Mother. The Blessed Virgin Mary has, before us, trodden the straight and narrow path which leads to sanctity; before us she has carried the cross, before us she has known the ascents of the spirit through suffering. Sometimes, perhaps, we do not dare to look at Jesus the God-Man, who because of His divinity seems too far above us; but near Him is Mary, His Mother and our Mother, a privileged creature surely, yet a creature like ourselves, and therefore a model more accessible for our weakness.

Mary comes to meet us during this month, to take us by the hand, to initiate us into the secret of her interior life, which must become the model and norm of our own.’

–from Divine Intimacy, by Fr. Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, OCD

__________________

In the 1960 calendar, today is also, fittingly, the Feast day of the great Spouse of Mary, under the title of St. Joseph the Worker. Through his powerful intercession, may our work be blessed, productive, and salvific in our states of life. Pray, too, for all those searching for work and the means to provide for their families.

Regina Caeli, ora pro nobis!

St. Joseph Opificis, ora pro nobis!

Categories: Lay, Traditional

Bergoglio Says You Are Foolish to Believe Almighty God Knew How to Adequately Create the World

Fri, 04/26/2024 - 15:55

Yes, that’s right, God’s providence and omnipotence are no match for “carbon”, “greenhouse gases”, or whatever other meaningless dreck the globalists accuse you of doing to ruin the planet.

One can legitimately ask if this man has any supernatural faith. The alternative theory is far, far worse.

Categories: Lay, Traditional

St. Louis IX is 810 Years Old Today

Thu, 04/25/2024 - 19:41

Born this day in 1214.

Saint Louis, pray for us!

Categories: Lay, Traditional

One Could Be Cynical about This. I Choose not to Be.

Tue, 04/23/2024 - 03:32

Congratulations, Candace Owens, for embracing the true Faith.

Categories: Lay, Traditional

First, They Came for the Catholics. Last, They Came for the Catholics.

Wed, 04/17/2024 - 16:45

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the Catholics.

Then, they came for the last Catholic, and the world ended, because the Church will exist until Christ comes again:

___________________________

Night came. White did not go to bed. He un-
packed a box he had brought with him from the
country. It held clothes, shoes, some tools. In the
bottom of it, wrapped in an old coat, was a large
case. He went over its contents carefully. There were
some robes, a shiny cup, two small bottles, a book,
a slab of stone, some miscellaneous small boxes and
metal pieces. He went over each carefully. He filled
one of the bottles with water. The other was already
filled with a dark red liquid. Then, he packed every-
thing back carefully in the case and waited.

The city was as still as if death had stolen in and
possessed it. White sat patiently through the night
hours. The sky had a strange pallor, he thought, and
there was a strange weight to the silence of the city.
He did not know whether it forbode good or evil.

Two hours before dawn, he took up his case and
made his way to the street. The streets were de-
serted. Always they were deserted at this hour as the
slaves slept. But in the deserted dark of this night
there was an unaccountable expectancy. The great
masses of metal towered blackly upward, massed
themselves hugely upward, as if threatening the
stars. White walked quickly, a solitary speck of mo-
tion along the floors of the caverns of the monstrous
city.

He reached the base of one giant structure that
surpassed all others by a thousand feet, a memorial
tower to one of the first masters of the IGW. He
slipped into the only elevator and went hissing up-
ward to the roof, a half mile above the earth. He
locked the elevator at the roof so that it could not be
summoned. Then, he set himself quickly to work. He
changed his garments. In a few minutes, despite the
dim starlight, he was done.

“On top of that black tower of the devil in the
kingdom of the Anti-Christ,” said Blue, “after all
those centuries of extermination, there stood a priest
in amice and alb, maniple, chasuble, girdle and stole,
heir in a noble line of Christ’s servants, clad in their
symbols of chastity, charity, honor and faith. The
figure of Christ’s cross lay on his back. The anoint-
ment of Christ was on his soul. Before him was his
altar, his case topped with altar stone and missal and
chalice. On it lay the corporal with the wafer he had
made from the wheat he had grown. By it stood the
two cruets of water and wine. He waited until first
there was a streak of light across the east. Then he
bowed down before his altar. In nomine Patris, et
Filii, et Spiritus sancti. Amen.
The Mass had begun.
He was keeping his promise to bring God back to
earth.”

Blue’s voice was quivering. It was dark with night
and fog. We still sat out on the roof. What time it was
I did not know.

“The last Christian,” said Blue fervidly, “was a
priest. Can you see that heroic figure in the twilight
of the world saying Mass in the citadel of the Anti-
Christ? Can you hear the Christe eleison as he cries
it to the breaking skies of dawn? Can you catch the
murmur of the Credo as the winds carry it to the
ends of the earth? Can you see him turning with
shining face as he gives his Dominus vobiscum to the
empty cathedral of the morning?

“It was magnificent,” exclaimed Blue as if he were
telling of something he saw. “And the while he is
making the sign of the cross over the wafer of bread,
the powers of the Anti-Christ are gathering. He has
been seen.

“An early plane spied him as he bent over his altar
in the first streaks of fight. The warning has awak-
ened the city.

“Below grows a tumult of multitudes. The clangor
of the alarms and the rumble of moving people rise
to the top of the tower. But the priest does not hear.
His soul is on his Mass. The morbid slaves below
awakening from their sluggish sleep are electrified
by cries of a priest! a priest!’

“Millions who would not lift a hand to save a
friend or give a sign of affection, these apathetic
slaves of the Anti-Christ, are transformed by this dis-
covery of the Mass. Stolid, stupid peoples, insensible
even to pain, need— as ever— only the mention of the
priest and the Mass to drive them into unimaginable
fury,

“The mobs surge about the base of the tower.
There is no access to the upper levels save by the
lone elevator. Their blasphemies rise in raucous up-
roar. Their frenzy would hurl over the structure itself
if it could. . . . The while the priest is reverently at
his Mass.

Veni sanctificator omnipotens, aeterne Deus.
‘Come Thou Who makest holy, almighty and eternal
God. . . / He is beseeching the blessing of the Holy
Ghost.”

The Mass goes on.

“The Master of the IGW has summoned the mar-
shal of his soldiers. ‘Stop the Mass immediately!’ he
commands.

“The marshal reports that planes are speeding to
the tower. The top is too small for a landing. It is a
difficult shot . . / he is explaining.

“The Master is furious. ‘Bomb the tower. Destroy
it. Demolish it. But stop the Mass! . . /

“His face was black/’ said Blue. “From his own
tower he could see the silhouetted figure bending
over his small altar. He tears his flesh in his rage.

“Two, three, four planes are circling above the
tower. One drops a huge shell. It misses and goes
hurtling down to the street. It crashes in the heart
of the insane mob, annihilating a black square of
them, shattering the steel walls, shaking the struc-
tures for a mile around. Another bomb falls. Another
misses. And again, there are slaughter and destruc-
tion below. . . .

“But now the priest bows low over his altar. Qui
pridie quam pateretur.
… He begins the words of
the consecration, the words that shall change the
bread and wine of his altar into the Body and Blood
of Jesus Christ.

“He approaches Christ’s own words at the Last
Supper.

“One plane is now low over the roof of the tower,
so low that the crew can make out the figure of the
Cross on the priest’s chasuble. A bomb is made
ready. . . .

“And now the priest comes to the words that shall
bring Christ to earth again. His head almost touches
his altar: Hoc est enim corpus meum. . . *

Blue was whispering. I think he was shivering.

“The bomb did not drop. No. No. There was a
moment of awful silence. Then, a burst of light be-
side which day itself is dusk. Then, a trumpet peal, a
single trumpet peal that shook the universe. Then,
the sun blew up like a bubble. The stars and planets
vanished like sparks. The earth burst asunder. . . .
And through this unspeakably luminous new day,
through the vault of the sky ribbed with lightning
came Christ as He had come after the Resurrection.
It was the end of the world!”

Blue’s last words were just barely audible.

“The Kingdom of the Anti-Christ disappeared like
ashes in a whirlwind. And hastening up out of their
tombs and resting places came the souls of the just,
happy, hearty, wholesome, to greet their king.”

Blue paused. Then he added:

“Father White who had been No. 2,757,311 found
himself a hero even in heaven.”

–from Mr. Blue, by Myles Connolly

Categories: Lay, Traditional

St. Louis University Hits Another New Low

Wed, 04/17/2024 - 15:20

This University long ceased to be Catholic, and they have hosted raunchier trash than this. But, as a societal, ecclesial and educational marker, this is appalling.

SLU should be ashamed, but shame implies they know right from wrong.

Waiting for any decrees of excommunication or interdict, or even better, a statement expressing “disappointment”, from the hierarchy anywhere…. waiting……..

How long, Lord?

Categories: Lay, Traditional