When I was young, the headline above referred to waking up with a monstrous hangover.
Today, it refers to being back in the world after a weekend of immersion in a spiritual retreat called the Eucharistic Convention.
I feel sort of like a sponge whose every pore had been filled with water, and then squeezed dryer than dry.
The hangover cure for me today is the same as way back when – hair of the dog that bit you.
But now, instead of that “hair” being booze, it was spending the morning with a wise, old priest.
I have a thing for wise, old priests. Priests who have suffered. Priests who are holy.
If you came expecting post-Easter humor, you’re a week too early.
This week, friends and neighbors, features the Eucharistic Convention, a major Catholic event that we’ve helped organize for years.
Before you flee in horror, check these people out.
Bob and Freda Narev – When Bob “Narewczewitz” was nine years old, “home” to him and his mother was the horrific Theresienstadt concentration camp in Poland. When they were liberated in 1945, Bob was one of only 150 children who made it out alive. Freda, from an Orthodox Jewish family, spent the last years of the war hiding on a farm, “living as a Catholic” to escape the Nazis. Bob and Freda somehow made it to New Zealand, met, raised a family and received the highest awards possible for service to the Jewish and general communities.
Roy Schoeman was born outside of New York City to Jewish parents who had survived the Holocaust. Roy received his Jewish education and formation under some of the most prominent Rabbis in contemporary American Jewry. He went to MIT and then Harvard Business School, where he received an MBA magna cum laude. He joined the Harvard faculty and quickly became a ‘rock star’ professor of marketing. He lost his faith, but then had several supernatural experiences (sort of falling into Heaven), and eventually converted to Catholicism. His first book for Ignatius Press, Salvation is from the Jews: The Role of Judaism in Salvation History, was a surprise best-seller.
2 And suddenly there was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled away the stone and sat on it.
5 But the angel spoke; and he said to the women, ‘There is no need for you to be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.
7 then go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has risen from the dead and now he is going ahead of you to Galilee; that is where you will see him.” Look! I have told you.’
8 Filled with awe and great joy the women came quickly away from the tomb and ran to tell his disciples.
When the soldiers had crucified Jesus,
they took his clothes and divided them into four shares,
a share for each soldier.
They also took his tunic, but the tunic was seamless,
woven in one piece from the top down.
So they said to one another,
“Let’s not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it will be, “
in order that the passage of Scripture might be fulfilled that says:
They divided my garments among them,
and for my vesture they cast lots.
This is what the soldiers did.
Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother
and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary of Magdala.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved
he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple,
“Behold, your mother.”
And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.
After this, aware that everything was now finished,
in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled,
Jesus said, “I thirst.”
There was a vessel filled with common wine.
So they put a sponge soaked in wine on a sprig of hyssop
and put it up to his mouth.
When Jesus had taken the wine, he said,
“It is finished.”
And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit.
The duty has fallen to me to put medical ear goop into the Crack Puppy’s left ear.
This is necessary because she is a Maltese/Shih-Tzu cross.
And “Shih-Tzu”, in English, means “making your vet a millionaire”.
So in addition to giving her 3/4 of a phenobarbitone tablet morning and night, wrapped in cheese, for her epilepsy, the blog now has to convince the Crack Puppy:
a) to lie very still in our lap every night as we;
b) ram a nozzle down her ear canal and squeeze goop into it.
Which goes really well, as you can imagine.
A bit like putting drops into Junior’s ears when he was just a baby, except the Crack Puppy is way squishier and lots more expensive than he was.
As we recall, the baby hospital bill was only about $12,000.
Which is chicken feed when it comes to Shih-Tzus (which in English, means “American Express Platinum Cards Accepted Here”).
Plus, our addictively cute Crack Puppy also needs her anal gland squeezed.