Russel Crowe’s (Noah Movie) meeting with Pope Francis a “washout”

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The Noah star was supposed to have a reserved place in the VIP section of the Pope’s general audience so the leader of the Catholic church could give his approval to the £70million film.

But according to film company Paramount the Vatican cancelled, saying Crowe’s appearance would be too disruptive.

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Editor’s note: Don’t feel bad, Russell – I can’t get a meeting with my bishop, either!

A short list of the Pope’s Lenten Exercises, via drone

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by Doug Lawrence

Five days of spiritual exercises for the Pope and the Roman Curia, held in the Casa del Divin Maestro in Ariccia near Rome, came to an end this morning. Thanks to a new, high-tech drone, complete with audio and infrared technology, along with a bit of help from the NSA, we can now report on some of what (allegedly) transpired there:

A list of some of the most notable exercises:

1) A workshop for coming up with fresh, new, laughably wordy pejoratives” – Like the now infamous ‘self-absorbed promethean neo-pelagian’ term that Pope Francis coined in order to “dis” Traditionalist Catholics, everywhere.

2) “Jew do you trust” – Ways to give Jews, Pagans, Muslims, heretics, tin-horn politicians, unbelievers and anti-Catholics unprecedented new powers over Catholic Church policy and governance.

3)Auto care tips for bishops driving humble cars” – Nobody showed up.

4) “The Really, Really New Evangelization” – Promoting third world, South American Catholicism to modern, post-Christian nations via token efforts, false humility, social media, photo ops, hastily arranged media interviews of dubious quality, the Jesuits, apostate women’s religious orders, and the clever use of incredibly imprecise “Vatican II-speak” political language – at the low, low price of confusing and demoralizing the most faithful of remaining Catholics.

5) “Who Am I To Judge?” – A very short presentation by Cardinal Raymond Burke, Prefect of the Apostolic Signatura, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the Catholic Church. 

6) Tradition, Schmadition!” – Making the Modernist case that the Holy Spirit doesn’t much care for Tradition, either! (33 slides – Microsoft PowerPoint Presentation. Also translated into German.)

Of course, due to some difficulties with translation, as well as problems with the drone’s data stream, plus the usual NSA dirty tricks, some of this may have come through a bit garbled. But you get the idea!

New pastoral teaching technique: Priest tells young man to “Rot in Hell!”

hellcliffDawn Joly’s 15-year-old son Skyler accuses the Rev. Roman Manchester of Our Lady of Good Help in Burrillville of “snapping” on Monday night.

“All of a sudden he just snaps. (It) just clicked like that and then he said he hopes I rot in hell,” Skyler Joly said.

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Editor’s note: Wasn’t that just a breath of fresh air wafting through the open windows of the newly invigorated Catholic Church?

If you know what “lavatory” means then you already know where this is going!

By Matt C. Abbott

As National Catholic Sisters Week (March 8–14) comes to a close, I offer the following short memoir, written by Kenneth M. Weinig for the current issue of The Remnant Catholic newspaper. Thanks to Michael J. Matt, editor of The Remnant, for giving me permission to publish Mr. Weinig’s touching story in this column. Click here to visit the newspaper’s website.

Thank you, Sister Mary St. Roger!

By Kenneth M. Weinig

My first grade in public school had been rather boring, but I loved the weekly Catechism classes in my parish conducted by a smiling nun who put colored stars next to every question in the Baltimore Catechism I got right, which were many, thanks to the motivation by my Catholic grandmother, who lived with us, and by my Protestant mother, too. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, I had thought, to have such a wonderful teacher like this every day!

In September of 1950, my wish came true: I was overjoyed to enter the second grade at Our Lady of Loreto School in Hempstead, N.Y. My teacher was Sister Mary St. Roger, a cautious smiler. An early reader – thanks also to my mother – I expected to be placed in the Bluebirds, the highest group, but I was disappointed to be seated with the Robins. Oh, well, at least I wasn’t with the dumb Canaries. Later, I learned that mom had conferred with Sister, and they had agreed to give me a conservative placement, since I had come from a public school; better to promote than demote. Soon, I proved worthy of Bluebird membership but was glad they didn’t group for mathematics! As I write this, I am looking up at a shelf on which sits a small, blue ceramic lamb, given to me by Sister for winning a class spelling bee.

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Editor’s note: A Catholic school system without these dedicated sisters and the Catholic culture they lived, breathed and constantly promoted, by their every word and deed, is just another private school with a religious ed curriculum “tacked -on”.

It’s also important to note that many of the teaching sisters routinely managed class sizes of fifty children or more.

The pre-Vatican II Catholic school system was a constantly visible, beautiful sign of God’s grace, in action. As such, it fit in very well with the Catholic parishes of the time.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect. But it was close!

Other Self-Absorbed Promethean Neopelagians seem to agree!  What say you?

Let’s just go a head and declare Pope Francis a saint – today!

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It must be disarming to meet Pope Francis in the confessional, as his insights into the sins and foibles of the people of our times are so penetrating. He cuts right to the quick without evasion, and he names often subtle ways in which we abuse the grace God gives us. The section of the apostolic exhortation “Evangelii Gaudium” on temptations of pastoral workers (Nos. 76-109) unflinchingly identifies numerous defects of the church’s ministers. As an examination of conscience, there’s been nothing like it since C.S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters.

If true reform must grow out of conversion, then Pope Francis truly has the gift of discernment to set the church on the path of conversion. He identifies the most subtle ways in which pastoral ministers undermine their own effectiveness and the church’s mission. The list is long and in this Lenten season deserving of reflection by all Catholics. But the paragraphs on “spiritual worldliness” are particularly worthy of attention.

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Perhaps this time, he won’t be “misquoted”?

Vatican City, Mar 12, 2014 / 12:29 pm (CNA/EWTN News).- As the first pontiff to meet with those who are blind and deaf in an exclusive audience, Pope Francis will hold the gathering later this month – an encounter participants are highly anticipating.

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True Funeral Confessions: One-upping Pope Francis.

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by Doug Lawrence

Pope Francis’ recent confession about stealing a cross from the dead body of a fellow priest reminded me of a funeral I attended a long, long time ago – and something that I had never before confessed.

It was a pleasant summer morning at the cemetery. The grave had been freshly dug and the customary Astro-turf had been put down all around the perimeter, with the casket-lowering apparatus set upon it. A nearby oak provided a modicum of shade for all those assembled.

My employer’s elderly mother had passed away, and I was attending the graveside internment ceremony. Since one of my fellow employees and I appeared to be strong, vital, young men, we were assigned as escorts for several of the elderly ladies in attendance. Nobody told us precisely what we were supposed to watch out for or what we were to do. The idea was simply to stay close and offer whatever assistance might be necessary.

The internment rite competed, everyone prepared to pay final respects to the deceased, walking past the suspended casket and placing a flower on top. My fellow escort took up a position in line, some three persons ahead of me. Then there were three elderly ladies – and me. So far, so good!

The procession continued without a hitch, until the lady right in front of me began placing her flower on the casket. Somehow, in the proverbial “blink of an eye” – she just disappeared!

Her scream was not very loud, but it was still blood-curdling. O-o-o-h! O-o-o-o-h!  O-o-o-o-o-o-h! as she slipped into the grave – already in up to her shoulders and still going down! Mouth wide-open. Pleading eyes as big as saucers! Hell was about to swallow her up!

Such a thing would have seemed impossible, since there appeared to be only a few inches of clearances between the casket and the edge of the grave. But since the casket was merely suspended on a couple of nylon belts, there was nothing to stop a little old lady from pushing it aside and going right in. I’ll never forget the image, which has been permanently burned into my brain.

I managed to reach down and in one fluid motion, grab her right wrist and hand, pulling her up, out, and setting her right back on her feet. She was OK. In fact, things couldn’t have gone better if we had practiced! I brushed her off a bit and we continued on. Quick as a flash, the incident was over – or so I thought.

Looking up to see how my escort “buddy” had fared during all of this, I was met with a smirk – which quickly escalated to a chortle – which quickly escalated into a full blown, out of control, “laugh-in-church” type of scenario.

The emergency successfully past and safely overcome, there was no denying the levity of the situation. We had just experienced a rare and unusual happening and desperately needed to express our feelings. But we just couldn’t, right now!

So, red-faced and choking back tears, we respectfully made our way back to the car, rolled up the windows, and for the next ten minutes, laughed our respective butts off. I’m sure the car was shaking, the whole time!

We like to think that our hysterical laughter might have been mistaken for grief.

Such is the nature of True Funeral Confessions. Send us your own similar stories, for publication.