The Roman Forum

31^st Annual New York City Church History Program(2022-2023) 

The Center Cannot Hold:A “Hermeneutic of Continuity”? Or “the Opiate of the Church”? (1978-2013) 

Lecturer: John C. Rao, D. Phil. (Oxford University)Chairman, The Roman Forum

 September 11:  A Deeply Troubled Church in a Collapsing Postwar Order

September 25:  Here Today—Gone Tomorrow

October 9:        A Call for Help From “the Christ Among Nations”

October 16:      Affirming the Faith—While Dismantling the Temple

November 13:  Sailing to Byzantium on “the Opiate of the Popes”

November 20:  The End of Soviet Communism and the New Liberation Theologies:     Marxist, Neo-Liberal, and Neo-Conservative

December 11:   The New World Order on Steroids

December 18:   Our Future Lies in Our Past: Traditionalism—1978-1990s

January 8:         The Year 2000—Ecumenism and Millenarianism

January 22:       The Hermeneutici and the Conservative Dilemma

February 5:       The New World Order’s Culture of Death

February 12:     How Goes the Internal Mission?

February 26:     How Goes the External Mission?

March 5:           Habemus Papam!!

March 26:         Did You Ever See a Dream Walking?

April 2:             The Horror!! The Horror!!

April 16:           The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

May 7:              My End is My Beginning                             

Sundays at 2:30 P.M, Most Holy Redeemer Church, East 3^rd Street Between Avenues A & B

Wine & Cheese Reception: $15.00 

N.B.— Audiotapes of all lectures will be posted on the Roman Forum Church History Lecture stream on SoundCloud.

As the summer comes to an end, we look forward to Fr. John Perricone’s Baltimore Catechism Classes that will be presented in three different venues:.

• Our Lady of Victories Church Hall in Harrington Park, NJ
• Corpus Christi Church in South River, NJ
• St. Josaphat Parish Hall in Bayside Queens.

Sermon given on August 29, for the Feast of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist

By Fr. Richard Cipolla

Today is the feast day of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist. I want to say that
there are very few people who do not know the details of the story surrounding the
beheading—which actually has a proper English word derived from the Latin—the
“decollation” of St. John the Baptist. But we live in a culture in which stories from
the Bible no longer form an integral part of the culture. It would be interesting to do
a survey in Grand Central Station at rush hour and ask people if they have ever
heard of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist, or even, whether they have heard of
St. John the Baptist.
But those possessing an aesthetic sensibility would know about this event, for the
story, with its lurid details, has been the basis of paintings by artists from Fra Lippo
Lippi to Titian and Caravaggio. Oscar Wilde’s play in French called Salomé, which he
(of course) wrote before his death- bed conversion, was notorious in its day. The
script was made into an opera by Richard Strauss that still plays in opera houses
throughout the world, its most famous scene being the Dance of the Seven Veils.
Why do we celebrate this feast? We celebrate this feast for the same reason we
celebrate the birth of John the Baptist in June as a first class feast. Because of who
he is in salvation history. John the Baptist is not only the forerunner of Christ. He
comes out of the desert preaching repentance for sin is the last of the prophets, that
majestic line including Moses and Elijah and Jeremiah and Isaiah and Zephaniah and
Malachi. And the role of the prophet was to speak the word of the Lord God to his
people and, most often, to tell the people that they had turned their backs on the law
of God and were sinning grievously and if they did not repent, terrible things would
happen to them. Most of the prophets were reluctant to take on this mantle. Moses
demurred on the basis of a speech impediment, Isaiah claimed unworthiness, Jonah
tried to get out of it by running away by ship– with disastrous results. The calling of
Jeremiah is one of the most moving of prophetic calling:
The word of the Lord came to me thus: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew
you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed
you”.
“Ah, Lord God”, I said, “I know not how to speak; I am too young”.
Say not “I am too young”. To whomever I send you, you shall go; whatever I
command you, you shall speak. Have no fear before them. Because I am with you to
deliver you, says the Lord. Then the Lord extended his hand and touched my
mouth! See I place my words in your mouth. This day I set you over nations and
over kingdoms, to root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and
to plant….But do you gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command
you…They will fight against you, but not prevail over you, for I am with you to
deliver you, says the Lord.
Jeremiah’s pleas for a return to God by the kings and people of Judah went
unheeded, and Jerusalem was destroyed by Babylon in the sixth century B.C. and

Jeremiah was forced into exile into Egypt and some say was murdered there by his
own countrymen, Not a happy ending.
But neither was the ending of the last of the prophets, John the Baptist. What did
John die for? He died for the truth. And truth, when one dies for it, is never general,
it is never an abstraction. It is always specific. John declared that King Herod’s
marriage was unlawful and the relationship was adulterous. This stung Herod’s
wife deeply, and when the opportunity came, she demanded John’s death. We all
know the story about Herod’s big banquet for all the important people in Jerusalem
and how Herod’ wife’s daughter from her previous marriage danced and delighted
the inebriated king who promised her anything she wanted. And what her mother
wanted, asked for and got was John the Baptist’s head on a platter. Not a happy
ending.
But prophets never have happy endings. For their job is to shout clearly the reality
of the state of affairs: that the people have strayed from the paths of righteousness,
they have strayed from the Commandments of God, that the way they worship has
become corrupt and syncretistic, worshipping other gods in the name of tolerance
and fitting in. It is true that there were times when the prophet’s voice was heeded
and reform accepted, but those times are the great exception.
And what of the prophetic voice of the Catholic Church today? That prophetic voice
is growing dimmer as society rushes toward a hell- bent individualistic liberalism
that is intolerant to any voice raised in opposition. The prophet always speaks
directly to those involved in the corrupt society: to the king, to the priests, to the
people. The true prophet would thunder and ask Joe Biden directly: : what does it
mean to call yourself a Catholic Christian and support abortion as a right? How is
this consonant with the Catholic moral teaching that declares that all life is a gift
from God and demands our love? But the same question could be asked of many of
the candidates of both parties at this time. We are all forced to watch the posturing
of candidates for the coming election in November, for they have all bought these
ads with the cash raised to get them elected. But everything is presented in terms of
political terns of left and right and appeals to what will make the people happy.
There is no appeal based on the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. But
you say: what does politic have to do with my faith? I choose the candidate that
most fits my point of view about how things should be done. It’s not my job as a
voter to be a prophet. I am just an ordinary person trying to get on with life. To be a
prophet is not my job.
Perhaps it is not. Prophets and their message have been rejected over and over
again. That is a constant in human history. That is not pessimism. That is reality. The
world will always be in opposition to the law of God, which is the law of love. But we
must beware that we do not shirk our responsibility to witness to our Catholic faith
by the decisions we make in the secular world as well as in our families.

May I suggest this to you: that what we do here today in the celebration of the
Traditional Roman Mass is a prophetic statement. The celebration of this Mass
thunders against the noise and babble of the world, the noise that fills so many of
our churches as well, this Mass thunders against the noise with its silence. This
Mass that is the distillation of centuries of worship prophesizes against the cult of
the new that drives so many of us to distraction. The beauty of this Mass, with its
choreography that points ineffably away from itself, prophesizes against a society
awash in the destructive forces of pornography and sexual license and in the
forgetting of the Christian and classical understanding of beauty, a society that has
forgotten what beauty is. This Mass is a prophetic gesture not only to the world but
to the Church which like the Israelites of old wants to be relevant to the world by
playing catch-up with a society that increasingly hates all that the Church stands for
and is. And so it is no wonder that there is hostility within the Church to this Mass
among her bishops and priests, for a prophet is never welcome in his own house.
We can thank God, in some sense that we have not been called to be Jeremiah to this
culture. The truth is that most of us wear ear plugs to avoid hearing that call. For to
hear that call would indeed be difficult and would risk an unhappy ending. But we
can and do thank God that He gives us grace and strength each day to choose to be
faithful to his Word and to his Church, and that we are fed in this place at this time
in Word and Sacrament. And for that we say: Deo gratias.

Rod Dreher comments on the favorable references to the Traditional Mass by recent convert Shia LeBoeuf. Mr. Dreher compares it to his own experiences with the Eastern liturgy. I can “relate to” what Mr. Dreher says, since I participated in the Byzantine (Russian) liturgy for years before the Traditional Mass became widely available.

Mr. Dreher writes:

For me, it was attending my first Orthodox Divine Liturgy that made such a difference. Like the actor says later in the interview, it doesn’t feel like a performance designed to coax you into belief; it rather feels like you are being let into something special. I can easily recognize that some Catholics feel that way legitimately about the Latin mass (and not the contemporary Novus Ordo mass) because after sixteen years as an Orthodox Christian, I feel the same way about the Divine Liturgy. When I began attending the Divine Liturgy, I realized soon that this feeling of liturgical beauty and spiritual transcendence is what I thought I was going to get when, in my twenties, I converted to Catholicism.

At the first few Liturgies, I had scarcely any idea what was going on. It generally follows the traditional liturgical pattern of the ancient churches: liturgy of the Word, and then the Eucharist. But it’s different enough from the Western model to confuse one.

That’s fine. It’s a strength, actually. The Divine Liturgy has been in its current form for many centuries. It is called “The Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom” because it was refined and defined in Constantinople under Chrysostom’s patriarchal leadership in the early fifth century. This is a thing of great antiquity. You don’t mess with it. It doesn’t try to conform itself to you, but calls you out of yourself, calls you to mold yourself around it — and to therefore allow it to mold you. Why is this a strength? Because we live in a world in which everybody is trying to sell you something, everybody — including far too many churches — are trying to make it super-easy for you to sign the contract, so they can make the sale. The Liturgy says: This Christian life is hard, but it is beautiful, and it is a pearl of great price. If you give yourself over to Christ as this community has worshipped him for well over one thousand years, you will go to places you could scarcely have imagined. Join us — leave yourself, and be raised up to heaven.

Seriously, it does. It’s not easy to get used to the Divine Liturgy, but once you “get it,” you wonder how anybody could worship in any other way, if this is what Christian worship is. The prayers, the chants, the prostrations, the incense, the candles — they all work together to bring the soul closer to God’s presence. The Liturgy is a thing out of this world. I want to invite everyone I know to come and see for themselves what it’s like. Be careful, though: once seen, you can’t unsee it, and for many people it will be difficult to go back to their modern worship elsewhere.

The Secret of the Latin Mass (the American Conservative)

We could not have a better depiction of Christian (Catholic and Orthodox) liturgical worship, which forms such a drastic contrast to the woship of both the official Catholic Church and protestant denominations. Yet the influence of the liturgy does not end at the church door. As Mr. Dreher points out – and as I myself have experienced – in so many respects making a commitment to Tradition will indeed take the believer to places he could not have imagined. Yet to understand this, one must live the liturgy, given its contrast with the world of today. As Martin Mosebach wrote just the other day:

Goethe calls attention to the anthropological fact that reverence is not a natural characteristic of man, but that he must acquire it. In the formlessness of modern society, the old liturgy is really a foreign body. She attracts those who have an internal readiness for resistance. These will always only be a small elite, not in the sense of academic titles or economic power but of spiritual force and independence of mind. It is to be found at all levels of the society.

A Traditionalist should long for a Schism of the German Church

For, though it is true that “modern man” must work to conform himself to it, this liturgy is nevertheless not the property of some “remnant” or esoteric group, but stands open to all people whatever may be their educational level, ethnicity, financial resources etc. One can verify this every Sunday and indeed every day by visiting those churches where the traditional liturgy is celebrated. The makeup of the congregations that the visitor will see will give the most eloquent possible testimony.

It seems that, under the influence of the liturgy, Mr. Dreher too has gone to places he scarcely could have imagined. I first enountered his writing when he was a “conservative Catholic” zealot raging against abuses in the “American Catholic Church.” From there he turned to Orthodoxy. Starting from a quasi-Anabaptist “remnant” theology he eventually moved to a much more systematic and explicitly Traditionalist Christian /Orthodox critique of the governing institutions and ideology of the United States and the West. One can trace this progession from The Benedict Option to Live Not By Lies to his recent full-blown enthusiasm for Viktor Orban. Mr. Dreher admittedly has been careful over the years not to step over the redlines set by the establishment. He has denounced Trump, and expressed his horror at Putin. Yet I am amazed he is able to get away with his current exposes of the deviations of American “woke” ideology. Truly, the Traditional liturgy (both Western and Eastern) can trigger major political consequences – both in the philosophy of an individual and in the life of a nation!

A Traditionalist should long for the Schism of the German Church – Martin Mosebach in an Una Voce interview.

With the kind permission of Una Voce Korrespondenz CathWalk publishes the following interview (translated from the German by Stuart Chessman):

Una Voce Korrespondenz: Before we begin our conversation you pointed out, almost like giving a musical key, that we can hardly draw any guidance from the past, that what we are experiencing today cannot be compared with any of the previous times of crisis – even when in the details earlier eras produced similar phenomena. In your view what are the similar phenomena? What areas have been affected, what has been repeated? And what are the decisive differences that make a recourse to experience so difficult?

Martin Mosebach: The congruence of prior and current phenomena is obvious.  Large sections of today’s Church are Arian, iconoclastic, Protestantizing, anti-sacramental, secularized. But in contrast to the past the believing people, who always forced a return to Tradition, are missing. At least in Western Europe that is very easy to explain. After the absence of fifty years of any orthodox religious instruction the Catholic religion has become unknown even to those who still practice it. Many of the theological catastrophes of the past never reached the little people, the real flock of Christ. They continued to be Catholic regardless of whatever heresies to which the leading social strata adhered.

Today the Church has amalgamated most intimately with the dominant antireligious economic and political powers. She has gambled on complying with the demagogical demands of forces that are totally alien to the Church but, without a doubt, have won over the majority. It is true that the Tradition of the church is “out of season,” just as it was out of season at the time of the Apostle Paul. This thought stirs up panic among her current representatives instead of being understood as a great challenge. To decisively counter the totalitarian tendencies of this age could even mean a great political opportunity. At the present time, however, this has not yet been grasped at all.

Once again, is this a German phenomenon? Or is it only especially apparent in Germany because of the institutionalization of the synodal path?

Germany is the land of the Reformation, of schism, of secularization, of atheist philosophy, of the atheistic totalitarian systems of communism and national socialism. In the last 500 years not much good has come out of Germany. In the 20th century, the Catholic Church here has submitted totally to the neo-Protestant post-Lutheran theology. Moreover, our unhappy country is also rich and can spread its bad influence everywhere by buying poorer countries. But this cannot disguise that the current decline of the Catholic Church can be found in all countries of the West. In many places it is not yet as severe as in Germany but a diminution, a draining away of the lifeblood, is emerging even in the most traditionally Catholic countries like Ireland and Italy, not to mention France, the so-called “oldest daughter of the Church.”

I suspect most of the practicing and also pious Catholics, the clergy included, do not know the old Mass.  At the same time some will recognize that in the Traditional rite there’s no place for liturgical atrocities and that in the circles of the Catholics committed to Tradition no place for a society open in all directions. Can we hope that a wave of synodal refugees will come?  Seeking rescue on the rock that withstands the tempests?  Surviving in Tradition? And in this time of synodal confusion what does it mean that the Holy Father releases a motu proprio which blows up access to the old mass? 

The adherents of the Traditional liturgy must acknowledge that there was a popular movement against the new liturgy – but it wasn’t a movement for the old one. Rather it led to a total exit from the Church. That wisdom that is so fondly ascribed to the Catholic Church deserted her totally in the 20th century. She dared a “reform of the Mass” that was, in truth, a revolution from above. She didn’t consider that in an age of mass democracy a revolution, even when imposed by the actions of authority, must very soon become unmanageable. We must accept the sad fact that a great part of the believers who have remained in the Church have been in the meantime reeducated. Goethe calls attention to the anthropological fact that reverence is not a natural characteristic of man, but that he must acquire it. In the formlessness of modern society, the old liturgy is really a foreign body. She attracts those who have an internal readiness for resistance. These will always only be a small elite, not in the sense of academic titles or economic power but of spiritual force and independence of mind. It is to be found at all levels of the society.

The catastrophe in the faith has created a paradox. The old liturgy lives from reverence for hierarchy and order, but her defenders have an anarchistic temperament. They distrust every institution and authority that is not willing to subject itself to the Tradition and that means most representatives of Church and state. The ruling pontifex, whose stated goal is, after fifty years of post-conciliar developments, to wipe out those remnants of the Tradition of the Church that are still present, has correctly recognized that his work will remain incomplete as long as the old rite is successfully transmitted to future generations. The old liturgy contains everything that a Catholic needs to be Catholic. It is even capable of replacing for a while a pope who doesn’t understand his mission. The current pope understands this very clearly and this thought is unendurable to him.

Once again, regarding lack of knowledge:  does the fact that many Catholics do not know the Mass of the ages hold a certain potential for rebellion? Especially among otherwise well informed pious and perhaps conservative Catholics – those with the intellectual capacity to inform themselves about the history of their mother the Church. Shouldn’t one expect here a certain knowledge of the “family history”? Why is there this gap in education?

You bring up something that it’s also a puzzle for me. I know many truly pious Catholics who suffer under the current decadence of doctrine and liturgy and fill my ears with lamentations regarding the latest excesses at children’s’ communions and Christmas Masses. But my question is always: “but why do you still go there”?  In many places there are alternatives – a chapel of the FSSSPX or the FSSP or even the old Mass celebrated by diocesan priests – after all it’s a duty to support them. And I again always experience what Our Lord encountered from the rich young man: “he went away sad.“  Among German conservatives there’s a spiritual lethargy that still just manages to express anger – but from this anger no consequences are drawn. The commitment to the old Mass is something weird to them, it departs too far from the mainstream. In the Rotary Club, in the Order of Malta, in the circles of fellow employees in the editorial offices, it is viewed with distrust:  could this be a radical speaking? And, after all, religion is nothing so important that one would stick one’s neck out for it….

And what is the role of Catholics who are committed to Tradition? To wait things out and accept all with open arms or seek after the lost sheep?  What does a Traditional mission look like?

Like many, I am convinced that the official German Church is right at the point of total collapse. It is as hollow as a nest of termites. The stupidity and tastelessness of its representatives are not even attractive for modernist liberals, at least insofar as they are intelligent. A small remnant will remain, and orthodox Traditional Catholics will gain influence among these. What is critical in my view is that the official Church with its myriad lay employees finally disappears.

A Traditionalist shouldn’t be afraid of the schism of the German Church.  Rather, he should long for it, especially since it’s in no way a schism but the public apostasy of the official Church. There’s no basis anymore for the acclaimed “dialogue.”  Also, whether Tradition one day could be victorious doesn’t concern me anymore.  It must be sufficient to us that Tradition most closely approximates the religion founded by Christ. Who recognizes that, realizes that the pseudo-Synod of the German Church is simply an assembly of ghosts. An American priest with whom I have often discussed the current situation of the Church ends our conversation every time with these words: “it is important to persevere.”  I cannot say anything more.

Dr. Angela Kirsch posed the questions.

Join us on Saturday September 17, 2022 at 9 AM for the National Summorum Pontificum Pilgrimage.

We will mark the 15th anniversary of Benedict XVI’s liberation of the Traditional Latin Mass, and make a public act of sorrow/support of what we will be losing as the Diocese of Arlington and Archdiocese of Washington, D.C. impose devastating new restrictions on the celebration of the TLM.

The Arlington Diocese restrictions go into effect on September 8, while the Washington Archdiocese’s draconian implementation of the papal decree starts 13 days later on the 21st.

We will walk from the Cathedral of St. Thomas More in Arlington to the Cathedral of St. Matthew in DC (about a two hour walk). Feel free to bring appropriate signs and banners. 

The pilgrimage will begin at 9 AM on Saturday, September 17 at the Cathedral of Saint Thomas More in Arlington, will end when we reach St. Matthew’s Cathedral in DC, and should take about two hours. For updates, we now have an instagram, twitter, and Facebook page (all of which can be found @tlmpilgrimage on the respective apps), and we now have a website being tlmpilgrimage.com. Please share, as we want this to be as large as possible for such an occasion.

Sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after the Octave of Pentecost

By Father Richard Cipolla

At once the man’s ears were opened: he was freed from the impediment and began to speak plainly. (Mark 7:36 ff)

And what do you think he heard?  And what did he say?  What hath God wrought?  To be or not to be?  Awesome!  Cool! Amazing! When God frees you from silence, when God releases your tongue in this singular way:  he put his fingers into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue. Then he looked up to heaven and groaned. That is the first thing the man heard, but it was not a groan. This is what the crowd heard. The crowd never hears what is really going on. The crowd is too busy gawking at what just happened, trying to figure out how this was done.  So the first news anchor comments: he touched his ears first. Touched his ears, responds his female co-anchor. She goes on: but look at what happened next, he spit and touched the man’s tongue.  He should have known better.  Has this guy never heard of Covid or monkeypox?  Back to the male half of the team:  but it worked.  But I forgot the groan. That was weird. Why don’t we cut back to the tape and listen to it again?

The sound that came from Jesus before the Ephphatha was indeed strange. And so the man host commented:  that was really strange. Maybe it’s an Amazonian mantra.  Could be, his other half said, but whatever it was it worked. The man can hear. The man can speak.  But what were his first words?. I couldn’t make them out. It sounded like a groan but it sounded almost musical to me, but not ordinary music, nothing like I have heard.

Not ordinary music indeed. Groaning indeed. The problem was that all these people were deaf, deaf to what was really going on, what was being said, or rather, sung For the first thing this man heard was music. What the crowd heard as a groan from Jesus was music and that music echoed echoed  in the man’s head, in his ears the notes in the form of neumes, square neumes, diamond shaped neumes, neumes with little squiggles and tails, these neumes converged and exploded in the man’s ears and in his head he heard what Jesus was singing:  Kyrie eleison. And that song of prayer unblocked what had been blocked for so long: and the ears of the deaf were unstop-ed. Unstopped so that he could reply, so that the first thing he could do as a response to the chant of Ephphatha was to cry out in a glorious melisma: Christe eleison!  What other fitting response to Lord, have mercy, than Christ, have mercy?  Listen, the crowd said, he does not know how to speak so he is uttering this strange sound. A groan for a groan, someone said in the crowd.

The same crowd—perhaps not the same but they all look alike—was standing on that hill where the three crosses were. Ah, the noise this time. The wind was picking up, there was distant thunder, there was the smelly noise of the crowd.  And then they heard what they thought was a groan from the man on the central cross.  Some had heard that groan before but couldn’t quite place it. If the co-hosts of the news channel had been covering this story, they may have remembered this sound, but it would not matter for this guy on the Cross was old news. Death is not news unless it is the death of someone famous, someone important.

And this groan shook the cross, and the neumes poured out of the man’s mouth like one of those medieval cartoon-like paintings where the words are written on a scroll coming directly out of the person’s mouth.  Listen! someone said. He is crying to Elijah!  But they were deaf. Their ears were not unstop-ed. All they could hear is what they wanted to hear. Their ears were tuned to hear only what would satisfy them, what would make them happy, whatever would confirm them in their willful ignorance, whatever would block out the silence, the quiet, the still whisper of God.  The noise in their heads which contained not only their own manufactured noise but the noise of the world itself blocked out anything else, so they could not and would not hear what was being sung on the cross: Eli! Eli! Lama sabachtani?

But listening closer, listening with unstopped ears, with the ears of the spheres, one could hear psalm tone 2:  Deus, deus meus, quare me dereliquisti?  The sung prayer was borne aloft into the dark sky by angels carrying each of the neumes, and straight into the presence of God who recognized the tone, the music played at the brooding orchestration of the big bang, when the neumes of God’s song of going out into the void coalesced into quarks, and the quarks coalesced into protons and neutrons, and the chant of atoms was born, spinning and singing, inventing the eight tones leaving room for one more, causing the whole universe to vibrate with the song of the life of God: Exsúltet iam angélica turba cælórum!

And the mother standing at the foot of the cross, stabat mater dolorosa, that plaintive chant, turned itself inside out, for in her heart at this hour of her son’s death, in this darkness, in her heart she heard the most joyful of the tones. And she sang, O how she sang, in the happiness of tone 8:  Magnificat anima mea dominum!  Ah, she heard the music, she whose ears and heart and body and soul were unstop-ed, whose tongue was loosened to ponder all of these things in her heart. She knew how to sing the Lord’s song, she whose womb had been opened with the word:  Ephphatha! Be opened!. Whose womb was filled with the song of the Word of God, and who gave birth to the Song of Songs, He who alone can unstop our ears to make us hear the truth and sing with joy, he alone who can put his divine spittle on our tongues to witness to his truth and life, he alone who can open our eyes to see the goodness, truth and beauty that lies at the heart of our lives that have been transformed by his grace.

Richard Cipolla