We do not have any highlights of this year's Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but we have one from the previous year. I believe it was Nick Lowe who summed it up for the rest of humanity in “All Men are Liars” when he said: “Do you remember Rick Astley? / He had a big fat hit that was ghastly. / He said I’m never gonna give you up or let you down. / Well I’m here to tell ya that Dick’s a clown.”


He was referring, of course, to Astley's overexposed 1987 hit "Never Gonna Give You Up." Soon after, the phenomenon known as “rickrolling” was born. You're listening to something on the radio, or you're clicking on a link that you expect to take you somewhere, only to come face to face with the realization that you've been "rickrolled" as in the above example.

Well, we wouldn't be man with black hat unless we provided you with the "literal remix" version, would we? And for another example, we show the fat guy from "Family Guy" getting the rickrolling he richly deserves. He was warned. (Hey, didn't Astley follow up with another turkey of a tune that sounded too much like the first one? Something about moving heaven and earth? No wonder he's relegated to "Behind The Music" segments and celebrity convention appearances for the rest of his life.)

Alas, not even executive privilege can stop the wrath of the mighty rickroll from entering into ... hey, wait. You clicked on it, didn't you? Obviously the good old-fashioned Chicago political machine did its dirty work from inside the Beltway. But be advised that such a fate awaits all of us. Something to consider for this week's Friday Afternoon Moment of Whimsy.
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Baubles, Bangles and Blessings

I awoke at about 9:30 this morning to the smell of chicken soup in the making. Sal had already let herself in, and was preparing a large batch of her special recipe for her "diko" (pronounced DEE-ko), her second-oldest brother, who simply adores his "bunso" (pronounced BOON-so), his little sister.

The night before had been spent with a few of her countrywomen, looking over goods brought from the Philippines. Sal once had a successful clothing and jewelry business back home, and has begun an informal purveying of exotic women's apparel and accessories from out of her very large suitcase. I was there too, entertaining somebody's four-year old daughter. (Ever watch a room full of ladies fuss over the latest in haute couture from Thailand? I knew you'd understand.)

Now, Sal has two brothers, but this year they each had separate feasts for their growing extended families. So we sort of went between the two. When half the room is speaking a language you haven't learned yet, it helps to stay occupied without appearing anti-social. I've never been good at parties. I always end up in the TV room or by the bookshelf. Or in recent years, at somebody's computer. But everyone is okay with my quirks, which makes them more like family. (This could come in handy in case ... eh, you know.) I was able to catch up on correspondence with Scout leaders from various parts of the country.

When I think about life during the first year of this journal, I realize just how much for which I have to be thankful. The need for thanksgiving to the Almighty for blessings in this earthly life, was recognized early in the history of this great Republic. A President who would today be chastised by the mainstream media for his brash political incorrectness, acted upon that need. We may contemplate the results in this video clip which was stolen by yours truly, from the guys at Creative Minority Report when they weren't looking.

The perfect end to a reasonably perfect day: sitting in an easy chair drinking a favorite liqueur, and watching episodes of The West Wing.

Deo gratias.
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Giving Thanks

Earlier this week, the President performed his annual duty (in the case of the current incumbent, for the first time) of issuing a proclamation that the fourth Thursday of November be a national day of thanksgiving. Then he pardons one turkey, and eats the other one. A lot is written about the origins of this feast, some versions more credible than others. In Canada, they have theirs on the second Monday in October, the day when we in the States observe Columbus Day, to give thanks for the harvest. Not a bad idea no matter who invented it.

Tonight will be the worst time all year to try and leave Washington, whether by land, air, or sea. As husband and father to a young family -- I like to call it "my former life" -- we learned that lesson the hard way in the mid-1980s. Closer to the present (and a bit wiser, one would hope), Sal has two brothers in the area, and we usually visit one of their families on Thanksgiving. Sometimes my son Paul joins us for a few hours, but he seems to have plans of his own. I suppose that's not unusual for a young man in his mid-twenties.

After being in the Philippines for more than two months, Sal is still unpacking, and otherwise making the adjustment to life in the States again. It would be nice to have a day where we could just relax. Meanwhile, I know that most of you are already making plans. I'm including an old favorite here (for the third time by my count), a "five-minute antipasto platter" in case your Aunt Minnie and Uncle Buck decide to surprise you with a visit.

As the Christmas season approaches, we'll be scoping out the internet for some other ideas to bring the Suzy Homemaker out in you. Until then, remember, "antipasto is your friend!"

Bon appetit.
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One Minute Theatre: The Residents

The Residents have been "an avant-garde music and visual arts band" for forty years. Who knows, maybe they're the ones who invented the video that killed the radio star.

For this week's usual midday Wednesday installment, we present a series of four one-minute pieces by this ensemble. Their respective titles are:

Moisture
Act of Being Polite
Perfect Love
The Simple Song

This sort of thing is what might be considered an "acquired taste." That said, they performed with the late Conway Twitty. You know, the "High Priest of Country Music" and the inspiration for the musical Bye Bye Birdie. (No, it wasn't Elvis.)

You can't make up stuff like this.
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Moderation

Lately, I've started getting this kind of crap:

Great article you got here. I'd like to read something more concerning this topic. By the way look at the design I've made myself Companionship in London.

The link if for an escort service. If this continues much longer, mwbh is going on moderated status. It will likely occur in stages. By the first of next month, no anonymous posters will be allowed. By the end of the year (if not before), the change will be complete. I'm just sick and tired of these boneheads sending me stuff that no one wants to read.

Helluva way to make a living, though, don't you think?

Or don't you?
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When He Comes

There's a king
    and captain high,
And He's coming by and by,
And He'll find me hoeing cotton
    when He comes.

You can hear
    His legions charging
In the regions of the sky,
And He'll find me hoeing cotton
    When He comes.

There's a Man they thrust aside,
Who was tortured till He died,
And He'll find me hoeing cotton when He comes.

He was hated and rejected,
He was scorned and crucified,
And He'll find me hoeing cotton when He comes.

When He comes! When he comes!
He'll be crowned by saints and angels when He comes.

They'll be shouting out Hosanna!
To the Man that men denied,
And I'll kneel among my cotton when He comes.

-- French E Oliver, 1921
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Taylor Mali is a forty-four-year-old slam poet, teacher, and voiceover artist. A native of New York City, he is also the great-great-grandson of the founding president of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, John Taylor Johnston. But that's not why he's here. To put it in his own words, “I'm just, like, inviting you to join me on the bandwagon of my own uncertainty.” It is a critique of the many bubble-heads we meet every day who have that "valley girl" ending to their sentences. We can console ourselves with that knowledge that frequent use of contraceptives has virtually succeeded in preventing them from reproducing.

You'll also notice how he never ends a sentence with a preposition, even in a case about halfway through, when most people would have done so: “Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?” And so, we can breathe a sigh of relief as we get on the bandwagon of this week's Friday Afternoon Moment of Whimsy.
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“I was so much older then ...”

Deal Hudson, the man who pulled Crisis magazine out from under, only for it to evolve into InsideCatholic.com, turns sixty years old today. It was heralded by an epiphany the day before.

"Chippy, you know we are not always going to be together like this. It's a beautiful autumn day, and we're in the backyard of our home and the leaves are falling, just look around. We won't always be able to work together like this, father and son."

The last time I experienced a major life change, was somewhere between mid-2003 and mid-2004. I can feel another one coming on, which might have to do with turning fifty-five at the end of the year. On that day, I'm going to IHOP, where I can finally get a senior discount. I'm having a steak-and-egg breakfast. That's probably not nearly as interesting as today's feature.

Maybe that's why epiphanies always surprise us. They happen while we're making other plans.
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One Minute Theatre: Periodic Table of Elements

Okay, this one is a bit more than one minute. Closer to one and a half. But what the hey, people, I'm running out of fresh product here!

Tom Lehrer is a perennial favorite when it comes to novelty songs. This one dates to 1959, when it appeared on his second studio album, "More of Tom Lehrer." It is sung to the tune of the "Major General's Song" ("I am the very model of a modern major-general...") from the Gilbert and Sullivan musical The Pirates of Penzance. Lehrer's musical career was at its most active in the years 1945 to 1965. While he has come out of retirement since then from time to time, he is a mathematics professor at heart.

This most excellent animation is the work of "TimwiTerby" who has his own YouTube channel. Enjoy.
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Traditional Mass in Arlington

I get asked from time to time, about a particular local issue, which is why I decided to include it here.

In the wake of the Holy Father's 2007 motu proprio Summorum Pontificum, which removed any juridical and other silly-nonsense-bureaucratic impediments to the celebration of the "extraordinary form" of the Roman Mass (also known as the "Traditional Latin Mass" or the "Tridentine Mass" or simply the "Old Mass"), there are currently seven parishes in the Catholic Diocese of Arlington which celebrate it every Sunday. They are:

Holy Trinity, Gainesville, 12:30pm
Saint John the Baptist, Front Royal, 12:30pm
Saint John the Beloved, McLean, 12:00pm
Saint John the Evangelist, Warrenton, 12:30pm
Saint Lawrence, Franconia, 12:30pm
Saint Michael, Annandale, 6:15am
Saint Patrick, Fredericksburg (Chancellorsville), 1:30pm

This is an increase from two locations before the motu proprio was released.

While admittedly celebrated at times that are less than convenient, it is a reflection of the demand for this form of the Mass, usually from members of the faithful who come from outside the parishes in question. This will change when the demand for the Old Mass comes from inside the parish, and/or once it is better attended, not to mention supported financially. Presently, it is estimated that the total attendance at all locations on a given Sunday, is around one thousand. This represents less than one-fourth of one percent of the total faithful of the diocese.

There has been talk in some corners of the diocese, that the Bishop of Arlington is working to prevent the Old Mass from being more accessible. This is a flat-out lie. Priests who want to learn this form of the Mass in the last two years, have been accommodated to a fault. In addition, pastoral assignments have been arranged specifically to facilitate continuation of the Old Mass in at least one location.

It has also come to the attention of this writer, that one priest of the diocese is propagating this slander, and has gained a small but tenacious following among the laity. He does not represent the views of his confreres, nor have his followers been able to back up their claims when pressed to do so.
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The Bishops’ Bash in Baltimore (Oh Boy!)

I had lunch recently with a priest, a noted author and lecturer, from whom a number of American bishops have sought counsel over the years, including during the proceedings of the US Catholic Bishops Conference annual meeting, now going on in Baltimore this week. With the move of the location from Washington DC to Baltimore a few years ago, the costs of lodging and meals were cut considerably. But still, by our calculations, and adding the cost of transportation, travel, and other incidentals, the total bill comes to over two million dollars. And that's before the meeting is even called to order.

For a number of years, the proceedings were carried on EWTN. This year, the cable channel of the Diocese of Rockville Centre is providing free satellite feeds of the main portions of the meeting. As a major agenda item is approval of the revised English translation of the Missale Romanum (the ordinary form, or the reformed liturgy), the outcome of which is already a done deal as far as Rome is concerned. Yet the expert commentary is being provided by some so-called expert on liturgy, who is known to disagree with said outcome. (Yeah, it's a nun. Go figure.)

On the bright side, they're using Twitter.

I don't know why they even bothered showing up, which is why I won't bother following the meeting this year. Later this year, however, mwbh will provide a summary of the aforementioned translation revisions, including some of the complex terminology that some bishops think you riff-raff will have a problem understanding.

Words like "ineffable," "consubstantial," and my personal favorite, "dew."

UPDATE: WDTPRS writes: “A riveting report is being delivered by an expert from the John Jay College of Criminal Justice ... An increase in the number of homosexuals entering seminary in 70’s lead to an increase in abusers.” Hey, sometimes people surprise me, what can I tell ya?
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Never Again?

People who think the Holocaust perpetrated by Nazi Germany could never happen again, should see the 2008 British film The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, where they will learn how people can paint a pretty picture of just about anything, no matter how sick and depraved. And if hearing reports of people resigning from Planned Parenthood over pressure to procure record quotas of abortions isn't convincing enough, LifeNews.com has an item for consideration:

Washington, DC (LifeNews.com) -- Borrowing a page from the playbook of pro-abortion members of Congress who recently used the myth of illegal back alley abortions to oppose the Stupak amendment, grassroots pro-abortion activists are sending coat hangers to Congress to urge taxpayer funding of abortion in the health care bills ...

In other words, if you don't want something horrible to happen again, you not only depict constant reminders of it, you romanticize it. This means that Jews should fly Nazi flags in front of their houses on Yom Ha-Shoah (the Holocaust Memorial Day, on the 27th of Nisan, in late April or early May), adding new meaning to "keeping kosher." Such is the natural conclusion to the reasoning of pro-infanticide activists.

And if that's not sick enough, in the early 90s, I knew a guy from Pittsburgh who sold jewelry at a pro-choice rally -- in the form of dangling earrings shaped like coat hangers.

I'm surprised the idea hasn't made a comeback.
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“Somewhere, beyond the sea ...”

Sal has been back in the "old country" since early September. It was bad enough that she chose the rainy season, but between two big tropical storms and one lesser one, The Philippines has suffered its worst flooding in over forty years. The water reached the family homestead for the first time, but they managed to save just about everything. The past month has hardly been a vacation, as she has been supervising the laborers doing the recovery work.

She was one of the lucky ones, as many in that country suffered much worse. In the midst of this tragedy, the one bright spot of late has been the victory of welterweight boxing champion and national hero Emmanuel Dapidran "Manny" Pacquiao, over Miguel Cotto of Puerto Rico. "The Pac Man" thus became the first boxer to win a world title in seven different weight classes.

Manny has also been very generous to the people of his homeland, many of whom have lost everything. We here at mwbh want to give a shout to the many relief organizations who are working tirelessly in the Philippines. We want to give a special Tip of the Black Hat to Cathoilc Relief Services, which has pledged $250,000 to the relief efforts. To find out more, click here.

Meanwhile, Sal is running out of excuses (to say nothing of money), so after changing her mind at least four times, and finally ignoring the pleas of her ostensibly grownup daughters to remain in a country where she has no future whatsoever, other than to stay home and take up knitting -- oh, yeah, kittens, she's an American citizen now, go figure! -- she is returning to her adopted homeland one week from today. If I can just sweep everything under the rug in time, she'll think I didn't revert to living like a crazy old bachelor. I've seen what happens to guys like that.

Never again.
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Surprised by Tallis

Imagine if you will, being seated in a room with eight sides. On each side is a chorus of five voices -- soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, bass -- making a total of forty voices, and each one has their own part. Thus would be the setting for a motet by the English Renaissance composer Thomas Tallis (1505-1585) entitled Spem in alium nunquam habui. It was composed in 1570, supposedly for the occasion of the Queen's 40th birthday in 1573, and is considered to be one of the greatest pieces of Renaissance polyphony.

Spem in alium numquam habui praeter in te,
    I have never put my hope in any other but in you,
Deus Israel
    O God of Israel
qui irasceris
    who can show both anger
et propitius eris,
    and graciousness,
et omnia peccata hominum in tribulatione dimittis.
    and who absolves all the sins of suffering man.
Domine Deus
    Lord God,
Creator coeli et terrae,
    Creator of Heaven and Earth,
respice humilitatem nostram.
    be mindful of our lowliness.

The Latin text was originally a responsory in the Sarum Rite (at Matins, for the 3rd Lesson, during the V week of September), adapted from the Book of Judith. In the reformed Liturgy of the Hours of the Roman Rite, it appears in the Office of Readings (formerly called Matins) following the first lesson on Tuesday of the 29th Week of Ordinary Time.

Those moderately boring details aside, it sounds totally awesome when heard as described above, or even remotely that way. Of course, the Concert Hall at the Kennedy Center only had four sides and not eight, but that didn't stop the Choral Arts Society from giving it a go today, and it was (oh, yes, it was) awesome. I obtained a copy of the score for my music library a couple of years ago, but never had a chance to hear it. Then a gentleman from the Society extended an invitation to one of the priests. It seems the good Father needed a driver, and after a very hectic week in which I had little time for my writing, I found an opening in my schedule.

There were other great works sung today, including those by Gabrielli, Tavener, and others. But this one was my favorite. A commentary on the piece by Wikipedia describes it thus:

Though composed in imitative style and occasionally homophonic, its individual vocal lines act quite freely within its fairly simple harmonic framework; allowing for an astonishing number of individual musical ideas to be sung during its ten-to-twelve minute performance time.

The work is a study in contrasts: the individual voices sing and are silent in turns, sometimes alone, sometimes in choirs, sometimes calling and answering, sometimes all together, so that, far from being a monotonous mess, the work is continually presenting new ideas to the listener.

The effect on the listener of the sheer number of ideas contained in the work, compounded with the unusual performance practice of surrounding the audience with performers, is that of inundation, or of being completely overwhelmed.

The work is not often performed, as it requires at least forty singers capable of meeting its technical demands.

The discipline that comes with performing the masterpiece is highlighted in the importance of the conductor and the performers alike. Whilst performers are distributed throughout a venue, the conductor becomes truly the hub for the piece throughout, as often there is little or no visibility between the performers, and a large venue will present acoustical challenges, not regarded with traditional choirs co-located.

Various editions of the score are available from the Choral Public Domain Library. To get a peek at the full score, click here.
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I am loathe to be too hard on Larry King. After all, when I was working through many nights on projects in college, back in the late 1970s, it was his all-night talk show on WPFB-AM that kept me going. Unfortunately, he makes it hard to resist the urge. On his recent CNN program, he had difficulty understanding what Carrie Prejean meant when she said, "Hey, pops, my lawyer said I can't talk about it, which means if you ask me about it, I still can't talk about it."

Or words to that effect.

Poor Larry. So many ex-wives, so little post-alimony. But we'll cut him a break, and give one to the rest of you, by showing Greg Gutfeld's interview with the lovely lass on the Fox News program "Red Eye" which ALSO runs during the night. This we do for our usual Friday Afternoon Moment of Whimsy.

Unfortunately, if you want to see it, you have to click here. (CONTENT ADVISORY: Mature subject matter.)
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The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

"I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

"But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep ...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

"And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

"I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

"If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

-- Author Unknown (h/t to "D.W.")
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A human being should be able to ...

... change a diaper,
plan an invasion,
butcher a hog,
conn a ship,
design a building,
write a sonnet,
build a wall,
set a bone,
comfort the dying,
take orders,
give orders,
cooperate,
act alone,
pitch manure,
solve equations,
analyze a new problem,
program a computer,
cook a tasty meal,
fight efficiently,
and die gallantly.
Specialization is for insects.

-- Robert A Heinlein (1907 – 1988)

(H/T to "Alan" in Vancouver, Washington.)

“Wherever we were going, well, we’re here.”

Well, maybe not yet, not in this world. But twenty years ago tonight, in a city that was divided by a stone wall for over a generation, the world appeared to a jubilant crowd to be on the verge of Valhalla. On that night, the infamous "Berlin Wall" was finally, if somewhat spontaneously, dismantled.

To understand the reason for its existence, is to understand history; not just that which followed the Second World War and the partitioning of Germany, but that of Russia, and her own view of its western frontier. Most nations are separated by borders of geographic significance; a river, a valley, a mountain range. Russia lacks the benefit of natural borders to separate it from the west, only a vast frontier, one that in spite of its breadth, gives way to a sense of vulnerability. The attempted conquests by Napoleon, among others, has compelled Russia to extend its influence on more than one occasion, into the Baltic States, and onward into eastern and even central Europe. The "Great Patriotic War" in the 1940s was the catalyst for the most recent incarnation of the ancient Russian Empire.

When Germany was occupied and divided into American, British, French, and Russian sectors, at the end of World War II, the capital city of Berlin, located well within the Russian sector, was similarly divided. So the Russians built a wall between their sector of Germany, and that of the other three. Thus the two parts became East and West Germany. In 1962, Berlin was divided in like manner, thus the two parts became East and West Berlin. A documentary of that year, an excerpt of which appears in the first clip, gives us a closer view of life surrounded by walls, at the cost of freedom.

In June of 1987, President Ronald Reagan stood at the Brandenburg Gate, and posed a challenge to the Soviet empire, and to Communist Party leader in particular: "Mister Gorbachev, tear down this wall." Two years later -- twenty years ago tonight -- that is exactly what happened, as seen in this ITV Newsreel from 1989.

We've heard a great deal about hope in the past year, haven't we? Most of us really don't know the meaning of the word. We think of "hope" in terms of wanting something that someone else has, which was a sympathy exploited in the previous general election. The Church teaches us that the theological virtues (faith, hope, and charity) differ from the cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance) in that the former can not be obtained by human effort, but only through Divine Grace. This alone raises the discussion of hope far above the American political fray.

Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ's promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit. "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:23) "The Holy Spirit ... he poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that we might be justified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal life." (Titus 3:6-7) (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1817)

With faith in God through Christ, in the manner revealed to us through the Holy Spirit in the constant teaching of the Church, we aspire to our eternal reward in Heaven, and in the hope that comes through Divine Grace. Accepting this by means of the human will, and processing this through our intellect, it is imparted to our fellow man through charity which comes from the heart. So then, hope is the bridge that ties faith and charity together, and binds them as one.

Hope, O my soul, hope. You know neither the day nor the hour. Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one. Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end. (Teresa of Avila, Excl 15:3)

The world has changed around us in a manner unimagined only a quarter century ago. And even though various crises at home and abroad, remind us that the Kingdom of God has yet to be reached, we hold out for the real hope that only comes from above. Contrary to what the slogan-writers and spin doctors tell us, the real world that is ours has yet to be realized.

But where there is life, there is hope. And where there is genuine hope, God is already among us.
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Proficiscere

As part of our remembrance of the month of November, as that which Catholics associate with intentions of the dead and the Life Beyond, we devote this piece to the preparation of the dying.

Catholics in the health care professions, particularly those devoted to home and hospice care, may have a unique opportunity to bring their commission through Baptism to the fore. But it is no less so to friends and family of those who perpare for the Inevitable.

Here at "Chez Alexandre" we have a silver troika, consisting of a crucifix between two candlesticks. When a patient under Sal's care has passed away, we have been known to recite the Psalms together while the crucifix with lit candles is on the table before us. We have found the so-called "penitential psalms" also known as the "psalms of confession" to be quite suitable. They are: Psalms 6, 31(32), 37(38), 50(51), 101(102), 129(130), and 142(143). (NOTE: The numbering system from the Latin Vulgata is given preference here. Most modern usage employs the Greek, or Septuagint numbering, which appears here in parenthesis.) Of these, Psalm 50(51), the Miserere is the most appropriate:

Have mercy on me, God, in your kindness.
    In your compassion blot out my offense.
O wash me more and more from my guilt
    And cleanse me from my sin ...

Every Catholic home should have a "sick call set" handy, for the use of the priest or deacon who visits the sick or dying. It consists of a crucifix and two candles on a white tablecloth by the bedside, along with a vial of holy water, and a dish of regular water with a small white cloth for ablutions. The use of the palm from Palm Sunday, and a bell to announce the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, is optional. It has become common to have such a set self-contained in a wall crucifix, the top portion of which can be detached, to access the accessories contained in the base. (See image at left.)

The priest who comes to the door with the Sacrament does so in silence, and should be greeted by a person carrying a lighted candle. He will say, "Pax huic dómui." ("Peace be unto this house.") The greeter should respond, "Et ómnibus habitántibus in ea." ("And all who dwell therein.") The cleric is led to the room in silence. All genuflect or kneel in the presence of the Sacrament. In the event that the patient needs to confess his sins, all must leave the room, including the primary caregiver. A priest is trained to know when other assistance is needed. In the event that the patient lacks capacity to confess, a general absolution may be given.

If a priest or deacon is unavailable, the faithful are nonetheless able to help prepare a soul for the journey. A page devoted to this is found at Fisheaters.com. A prominent feature to this guide is the prayer known by its beginning word in Latin: Proficiscere.

Go forth, O Christian soul,
    out of this world,
in the Name of God the Father almighty,
    Who created you;
in the Name of Jesus Christ,
    the Son of the living God,
        Who suffered for you;
in the Name of the Holy Ghost,
    Who sanctified you ...
... may your place be this day in peace,
    and your abode in Holy Sion.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Of course, circumstances may dictate the length or brevity of such preparations. The communal praying of the Rosary, particularly the use of the Sorrowful Mysteries, is most commendable whatever the circumstances.

Once the soul has passed on, a different set of prayers is appropriate. As the time before death is devoted to preparation, that which follows requires intercession from on high. One most appropriate form is the Responsorium, the responsory for the dead:

V. Do not remember my sins, O Lord.
R. When you come to judge the world by fire.

V. Direct my way in your sight, O Lord, my God.
R. When you come to judge the world by fire.

V. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord,
    and let your perpetual light shine upon him.
R. When you come to judge the world by fire.

V. Lord, have mercy.
R. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

Our Father ...

Our series continues next week, with a reflection on Catholic funerals, and the practices associated with them.
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