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Uncommon Sense

Reflection on an obscure hymn and that LOTR theme song

Photo by Jeff Finley on Unsplash

Déjà vu all over again

Have you ever heard a snippet of a song, and it instantly reminds you of a different song, but you’ve forgotten the name of one or the other? That was bothering me this morning at the Communion hymn at Mass.

Mike was up in the loft beginning a hymn on the organ as people began to social distance their way up to the altar, and in my slightly reflective but mostly bewildered state, I asked myself, “why is he playing that song from the Lord of the Rings movies, you know, the one about the Shire?”

After the first two…


The memorial of St John Eudes, which I’ve heard pronounced from the comical, like Joe Pesci trying to say “youths” in My Cousin Vinny” to Sean Combs answering the phone “Who dis?”

Well, our Saint is from France, so with all respect to my fellow Muricans, it’s not John, it’s Jean, though both are pronounced like the Jean in Jean Claude Van Damme.

And the last name isn’t hard, either, Frenchie. In fact, let’s just run the two words together like our Francophile brethren tend to do. Eudes is pronounced as Ood like in food. The result? Jaw Nude. Sorry…


Photo by Zuarav on Pexels.com

Today’s first Mass reading goes to prove that the Old Testament isn’t some dry historical record. It also shows that God has an ironic sense of humor. Don’t @ me if I take some editorial liberties with the text.

Jeremiah 13: 1–11 opens with God telling Jeremiah to go buy a new pair of underwear, put them on and wear them, but not to wash them.

Okay, God? Um… right. I’m headed there now. Might have to pick up some jock itch spray while I’m at it. But I trust you.

. . .

God? It’s Jeremiah. I’ve been wearing…


We’re ripping the pages out one at a time

Photo by Florian Glawogger on Unsplash

Earth is an ancient poem, and humanity has been tearing the pages out one by one. The poem was written millennia ago. But now, every day, some of the most beautiful passages are being ripped from the binding and lost forever. What is gone can never be rewritten or re-read. We can only save what remains.

The sad truth is that now, none of us can sit a child on our knees and read the poem from beginning to end. There are so many pages missing that sometimes the verses seem to make no sense. Every day that we delay…

Uncommon Sense

A society is in decay when common sense becomes uncommon.

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