Catching Up

I know...it's been a while. But I've been a caregiver (a very small pat on the back) as Dear Diane makes her way through a difficult time medically. It's just ben one challenging series of problems after another, but we seem to be arriving at a good point in this strange progress. 

The poor girl has suffered much in recent months and, as I too often let her know, I been right there with her. I won't bore you with the medical issues, and Diane would be very upset if I focused on her, so I'll just say it's been hard for her and a joy for me. That's right...caring for her has been a true joy, something I never expected after almost 58 years of marriage. It calls to mind all the time she spent just doing everything for me while I was off flying in the Navy or traveling the world in my consulting work. Believe it or not, I was amazingly self-centered and just expected her to do everything. As I sit here today I realize how God reveals the truth to us, and does so in His time. Thank you, Dear Diane, and than you, Dear Lord.

Late this afternoon Diane was moved to the UF Health Rehab Facility on the fifth floor of our wonderful hospital here in The Villages. This is probably the best rehab facility, among many, in the area...so I am really pleased that she's there. We've been there before, know the staff, and love them all. 

Today was a bit strange. For many years, I have suspended my parish Bible Study for the summer months because we have so many "snow birds" among our parishioners. To appease the year-round locals, I always schedule a course in August. Some months ago, long before Diane encountered her current health issues, I scheduled a survey course on Ecclesiology beginning today. It will run for five 90-minute sessions on each Monday of August. I think the first session went well, even though I was remarkably unprepared. 

If you're interested in the course, I have included some course content -- PowerPoint and "handouts" -- on my parish Bible Study website. Here's the link: 

    www.catholic-scripture.com/courses

Just scroll down to view the info on the 2006 Ecclesiology Course.

Life goes on, folks. God is good and He prunes His olive trees as needed.

Blessings and God's peace...

Happy Birthday, USA!

This morning I’m sitting, far too comfortably in my living room here in the great state of Florida, watching the remarkable July 4th events as they are presented to us via a technology that didn’t exist when those first patriots founded our nation. The world had to wait about 150 years before an American with a great name, Philo Farnsworth, invented the technology that brought television to the world. And so, thanks to what Philo did in 1929, today you and I can watch, in living color and on big screens, as our nation celebrates 250 years of independence and freedom. 

(Ok, a little aside: There's also a lot of garbage on TV, but we shouldn't blame Philo for that. Indeed, to rid ourselves of TV trash, we can thank another American, Robert Adler, a Jewish physicist who emigrated from Nazi-Austria in 1938, went to work for Zenith and invented the wireless remote control. So, if you don't like what some network wants you to watch, just grab your remote, push the button, change the channel, and thank Robert Adler.) 

I just watched the Navy's flight demonstration team, The Blue Angels, for about the hundredth time. They roared over the Hudson River in their usual tight formation trailing behind them a stream of red, white, and blue. As a long-retired Naval aviator who earned his "wings" in 1968, I have known many Blue Angel pilots, all remarkable aviators and good guys. 

Witnessing all of this today I’m reminded of the events Diane and I watched 50 years ago on the USA’s 200th birthday. We'd just moved into a new home in Bonita, California, thanks to another change of duty station ordered by the U.S. Navy. Within a few weeks I was at sea aboard the USS OKINAWA (LPH-3) as the ship prepared for a long deployment in the Western Pacific. At the time Diane and I had three young children. Erin was 5, Siobhan was 3, and Ethan was only 2. Erin might recall some of what we watched that day on our much smaller TV, but I suspect the others were too young. Brendan, our fourth and today a former U.S. Marine, didn’t make his global debut until December 8, 1977, coincidentally, also Diane’s birthday. 

Although today we're taking a long look at those 250 years, it's important to turn our primary focus toward the inaugural event, the day our founders began the formation of the United States as an independent nation free of foreign control. The Second Continental Congress accomplished this on July 4, 1776 by signing and formally adopting the Declaration of Independence, written by Thomas Jefferson. Almost 50 years later, the artist, John Trumbull, gave us a painting (below) of that historic event. Although not totally accurate, Trumbull's painting is still a beautiful depiction and encapsulates the essence of the Declaration's adoption by Congress.

Part of this year's tribute to our nation's founding was yesterday's celebration at Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. 20 Years ago, in June 2006, Diane and I spent a day at Mount Rushmore on our way to visit our daughter and her family in California. If you have never gone to Mount Rushmore, add it to your bucket-list. It's truly worth a visit. Here are a few photos I took as we stood in awe at the foot of this huge sculpture. The first is a typical shot of the four presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Lincoln.

I especially like this one, though, a photo I took from an unusual angle and precarious spot, showing my favorite, President George Washington.

If you didn't catch President Trump's speech at Mount Rushmore last night, find it and listen. As he reminded us, no nation in the history of the world has accomplished so much for so many. Yes, we have our faults, for we are simply human, but we also have a history of overcoming and correcting those imperfections through a continuous effort to become greater.

Today we are in the midst of a battle for our nation's soul. It is not a political battle between left and right, and those who believe we can achieve victory solely through political action are condemned to lose. The same is true for those who believe it is simply an economic battle between capitalism and socialism. Rather, this battle, this war, is spiritual, a battle between good and evil. We must do our part, and realize that only when we turn to God in total trust, when we allow Him to lead us, when we accept Him as "the Way and the Truth and the Life" (John 14:6), can we hope to achieve the victory God wants for us.

Pray today, folks. Pray for our nation. Pray for those who have given their lives for this uniquely good nation. And pray for the souls of those who signed that Declaration, always keeping in mind the document's final sentence:

"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm Reliance on the Protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."

We must do no less.

And an "Oh, by the way..." My parents, Martha and John McCarthy, married on July 4, 1935, 91 years ago today. Unlike today's celebrities they married in a simple ceremony, in a Catholic church and not in Madison Square Garden. It was a small, but devout nuptial Mass, an event great in God's eyes, an event for which I am eternally grateful.

God bless America.

Deacon Dan Pallo - Funeral Homily

Yesterday our pastor, Fr. Kenny, joined by three priest concelebrants -- Fr. Tom Connery, Fr. John McCracken, and Fr. Glen Baptiste -- conducted the funeral of Deacon Dan Pallo. Our priests were joined by the parish deacons as we all asked our Lord to take Deacon Dan into His loving and eternal embrace. 

Here's perhaps my favorite photo of Dan and his wife, Eleanor, taken at our home back in 2008.

I was blessed that Dan asked me to preach at his funeral, and I trust my words were both fitting and proper, and also provided some solace to Dan's extended family. My homily follows:

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Readings: Lamentations 3:26,28-29b,31,41,58; Psalm 23; Romans 14:7-9,10c-12; Matthew 11:25-30

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Oh, how we will miss this good man, this brother deacon, this servant of God.

But no one will miss Dan as much as this wonderfully extended family that he cherished so very much. To you, Dee and Karry and Amy, and to Dan’s stepchildren, whom he loved as his own – Rita, Tom, John, Randy, Kim, and Kurt – and to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren…so many names, my aging brain can't hold them all. Yes, to all of you, my brother deacons and I join with Fathers Kenny, Tom, John, and Glen, as well as the other priests who gladly help our parish, and extend our heartfelt condolences, as you mourn the loss of this remarkable man who played such an important role in your lives.

I first met Dan at a meeting the day he arrived here at St. Vincent de Paul. Our pastor at the time, Father Peter Sagorski, had invited Dan to attend the meeting and in walked this large man. Asked to tell us about himself, he quietly and humbly revealed his life in about three sentences. Oh, yes, he also mentioned his wife, Eleanor.

My first thought? “I’ve got to get to know this guy.”

Yes, we became friends. We even worked together at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen for many years. But we weren’t – how can I put this? – we weren't buddy friends. We didn’t get together for a beer or golf. No, our personal friendship was different, because the two of us were so very different. I guess you could call us spiritual friends. When we talked or got together, we inevitably found ourselves talking of our ministry as deacons.

Too often I would get all wrapped up in the “stuff” of ministry – what we do and how we do it. But Dan tended to focus on the “who” of our ministry. And, yes, we helped each other, but in truth, Dan was the greater helper. He’d likely disagree, but he’d be wrong. You see, Dan helped me relearn that being a deacon was to be a servant, to be like Jesus, to serve everyone God placed in my life.

I chose the readings we just heard because they often came up in our conversations and also helped me recall Dan as a deacon and friend. Indeed, those words we heard from Matthew 11 described him so well:

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourself” (Mt 11:29-30).

In so many ways, these words of Our Lord defined Dan’s ministry and his life.

Joined with the Lord, throughout much of his life Dan carried half of that yoke on his broad shoulders – raising those three girls on his own, often overwhelmed, but always being the father they needed. He did so without complaint, for he, too, had learned meekness – and know that meekness is not weakness, far from it. God’s call to be meek is really a call to strength – to turn from oneself, to look to the other in need, and then to act.

Note, too, that Jesus joins meekness and humility. I’ve always believed humility is our foundational virtue. For without humility, the other virtues become what today is called “virtue signaling” – simply a means to let others see how very good we are. Dan didn’t signal his virtues. In his humility he just lived them, quietly and consistently. For humility is merely acceptance of the reality of who we are. And Dan understood that.

That was how he lived his life and how he approached his death: “and you will find rest for yourself.” Dan’s death was one of pure acceptance, happily accepting the gift God now offered him. How many of us could face death with such acceptance? How many of us, when it comes to our own lives, can believe so completely the words we utter daily?

 “…Thy will be done, one earth as it is in heaven” (Mt 6:10). 

Yes, when it comes to our own lives, so often we like to place our will above God’s.

Dan’s daughter, Karry, collected over 5 pages of family thoughts on her father – from kids and step-kids and grandkids – words that revealed so much about who Dan was. And yet, everything I read, all the wonderful family stories, merely reinforced what I already knew.

One thing stood out: how Dan quietly taught his family – and taught me as well – not so much by his words but by his actions. Let me give you an example. In our 2^nd reading Paul admonished the Romans:

“Why then do you judge your brother? Or you, why do you look down on your brother? For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of God” (Romans 14:10).

One day, some years ago, Dan reminded me of the meaning of those words. I often assisted him with the Catholics Returning Home program he had introduced to the parish. 

Dan got to know the participants well, while I would just come in occasionally and conduct a session. One day, as I was speaking on the Eucharist, one of the participants continued asking very negative questions. I answered each question with a smile, but found myself thinking, “Why does this guy want to return to the Church? He doesn’t seem to like it very much.”

After everyone had left, while Dan and I were talking about the group, I said something to the effect, “Yes, a nice bunch of folks…except maybe for the grumpy old man with all the negative questions.”

Dan just smiled and said, “How did St. Paul put it? ‘Why do you judge and look down on your brother?’” 

As you might expect, I had no answer. So, Dan waited a moment, let it sink in, then told me:

“Yeah, during the first session with this group, I felt the same about him, grumpy and negative. So, I asked him to stay a moment to tell me his story.

“He was treated badly by a pastor years ago, and it drove him from the Church. His wife, a devout Catholic, prayed for him constantly.

“She died recently, and the last thing she asked of him was to come back to the faith. That’s where he is now, coming back, asking questions no one had ever answered before. Thank you for answering them so well.”

Did you notice how Dan handled me? It took me a while to recognize what he'd done. First he chewed me out, then he taught me, and finally he thanked me. And that, brothers and sisters, was one of Dan’s strengths. 

I like to think I helped him as well. Once, while discussing aspects of our ministry, he said to me, “I know I’m not a very good preacher…”

I interrupted him: “Dan, we’re called to be servants, to preach, to teach, and to heal; and believe me, you teach a lot of folks how to serve, how to live the Christian life, leading them to God’s healing grace. Those are God’s gifts to you. Be thankful for them,” 

Yes, we taught each other.

Then there’s our first reading, from the Book of Lamentations. I think I can take credit for introducing Dan to that little book. Lamentations is not very popular because it’s filled with anguish over the destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BC. Long attributed to Jeremiah, modern scholars argue about that. But modern scholars seem to argue about everything.

Anyway, each of its five chapters is a poem or hymn, and the suffering man described in our reading from chapter 3 is often seen as a kind of foreshadowing of the passion and death of Our Lord. The message? If in our worldly sufferings, we recognize and confess our sins we can then rejoice and share in the glory of Jesus’s Resurrection. 

As I thought of Dan’s life, and especially his final days, the words of chapter 3 came to mind, God’s Word filed with hope for Dan and us.  Listen again:

“It is good to hope in silence for the LORD’s deliverance, for Him to save…when its weight lies heavy…yet there is hope.”

I was reminded of the loving care Dan provided for Eleanor during her long illness. Yes, “the weight of life often lies heavy, yet there is hope." Dan's loving care for Eleanor taught me a lot about caregiving, something I'm involved in today. And yes, we accept the gift of hope, reminding us that the virtue of hope is merely our certainty that God always fulfills His promises.

Those words were followed by a word to each of us:

“…though grief comes to us, He takes pity, according to the abundance of His mercy.”

Yes, we grieve, but God’s mercy, His love, knows no bounds. And because of God's mercy our grief can be touched with joy.

Then, finally, despite the hatreds and divisions we encounter in our world today, we’re told how to share God’s love in the midst of it all:

“Let us lift up our hearts as well as our hands toward God in heaven! You pleaded my case, Lord, you redeemed my life.”

Yes, indeed, we can lift up our hearts and hands today, thanking God for the life of this good man, this servant who loved God and His people. And so, we praise God for Deacon Daniel Pallo, and for each of you, and for me…for we have been redeemed.

Thanks be to God.

Mother's Day

I've always appreciated the final verses of the Book of Proverbs, words that define the perfect wife and mother. And so, on this Mother's Day, I salute my late Mom, Martha McCarthy, and my Wife, Diane McCarthy, for fulfilling these prophetic words:

She is clothed with strength and dignity, and laughs at the days to come. She opens her mouth in wisdom; kindly instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband, too, praises her: Many are the women of proven worth, but you have excelled them all. Charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting; the woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Acclaim her for the work of her hands, and let her deeds praise her at the city gates. (Proverbs 31:25-31)

Thank you, Mom, for being you. And thank you, Diane, for always caring for me. Now it's my turn.

Homily: Tuesday, 2nd Week of Lent

Readings: Is 1:10, 16-20; Ps 50; Mt 23:1-12

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I have to admit, listening to today’s Gospel passage from Matthew always causes me to cringe a little.

Jesus, of course, was talking about the Pharisees and Scribes and their hypocrisy, and warning the people, especially His disciples, about following their example. As we see throughout the Gospels, these spiritual leaders of the Jewish people didn’t really hide their hypocrisy too well. It wasn’t just obvious to Jesus, but we suspect everyone saw it.

Indeed, Jesus offers us a sad litany of their offenses, everything from grasping honor and privileges for themselves to making life unbelievably difficult for others. But Our Lord is also letting His disciples know that they, too, can fall prey to these same failings, and so the warning extends to them and across the centuries to us as well.

But there’s one sin, and I think we can safely call all these failings sins, that strikes me with the greatest force. It’s when Jesus says, “For they preach but they do not practice.”

You see, as a deacon, a man once declared by my bishop to be a true “servant of God” – Sean O’Malley actually said that to all of us at our ordination. Anyway, when I hear Jesus say this about those Pharisees, I find myself wanting to hide behind that “seat of honor” over there. It’s a very obvious seat, isn’t it? Comfortable too. Yes, indeed, no matter how crowded the Mass, I’ve always got a great seat. Heck, the parish even gives me a parking place, so the old deacon doesn’t have to tire himself out.

But it’s that preach and practice thing that really troubles me. I’m preaching right now, and I’ll probably tell you how to live your lives during this season of Lent. I do that often enough.

And yet, like you, I am a sinner. Most of the faults I address in homilies, along with the remedies I preach, have their source in my own behavior, or in that of those I love and know best. Yep, it’s always easier to identify the sins of family and friends, isn’t it? We know them so very well, just as they know us.

Anyway, as I dig deeper into my own conscience to uncover my faults, I realize how different I am from the man I was 30, 40, or 60 years ago. I guess my spiritual life, my struggle toward some degree of holiness, has actually progressed, not as far as I’d like, and certainly far below the Lord’s hopes…

On a wall in our home, hangs a rather large portrait of Jesus – it’s the Divine Mercy image – painted by a Polish nun and given to me by a friend, a Polish priest. But sometimes, when I glance at it, Jesus seems to be shaking His head at me…Maybe it’s just my aging vision, or my active imagination, but I think it’s more than that. I suspect He’s just showing me I have a long way to go.

Lent, though, is a good time for introspection, a time to take a hard look at ourselves – a time to let God reform us, and transform us, into His ways. It’s also a time for simplicity, a time to turn away from the busyness of the world and its false attractions and promises.

Perhaps most importantly, it’s a time for sacrifice. So often we try to avoid sacrifice because it usually includes suffering. And yet it’s there, in our sacrifices and sufferings, where Jesus Christ comes to meet us. It’s there, as we struggle to bear our everyday crosses, that He comes to us and carries them with us. Jesus never said that living the Christian life would be easy; but He did promise we wouldn’t be alone. He would join us, be there with us.

Yes, I suppose I’m guilty of a touch of hypocrisy, but thanks to Jesus’ words, at least I know it, and can repent. Maybe some of those Scribes and Pharisees also came to recognize their hypocrisy when they listened to Jesus, and perhaps they too repented. I certainly hope so.

Perhaps as they heard Jesus' word, they also reflected on God's word from Isaiah, one they would have known well:

“Wash yourselves clean!...[and] set things right”

And how do we do that? We change, for that’s what repentance means: to re-think our lives, to live a new life in Jesus Christ.

“Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil; learn to do good. Make justice your aim: redress the wronged, hear the orphan's plea, defend the widow.”

Yes, indeed, God and His Word never change.

So let me leave you with another thought: Don’t be too critical of deacons and priests, of bishops and popes, for we, too, are human. We, too, are sinners and subject to the whole range of human failings.

How much better simply to pray for us, as we pray for you.

Homily: Tuesday, 1st Week of Lent

Readings: Is 55:10-11; Ps 34; Mt 6:6-15

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The “Our Father” is likely the prayer we pray the most. And the version we just heard from Matthew’s Gospel is the more complete version, the one with which we’re all familiar. Yes, indeed, the Our Father – or the Lord’s Prayer – gets a lot of coverage in our lives as Christians.

It was certainly among the first prayers I learned as a child. Our mother taught us the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be, and the brief Guardian Angel prayer-poem. We learned them all by heart, back when we were still smart and could remember things well. And I expect most of you had similar experiences as children.

And most of us still pray the Our Father daily. Of course, we pray it during every Mass, and each time you pray the Rosary, you pray the Our Father six more times. Depending on how often you pray, it probably finds its way into other parts of your prayer life. I know it’s my last prayer before I go to sleep each evening. There’s just something soothing and all-encompassing about this prayer that Jesus taught to His disciples.

How did Isaiah put it in our first reading?

“So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me void, but shall do my will…”

And because of this, because it’s the prayer of Jesus, it comes from the mouth of God and must have special meaning for all of us.

For me the very fact that Jesus asks us to call God our “Father” is particularly wonderful, especially for the Baptized who are His adopted children. That's a very special, very personal relationship that perhaps we don’t appreciate as we should. 

Jesus goes on to remind us that the Father’s name is holy, beyond anything we can imagine. He then includes the truth that our God’s will rules the entirety of creation, fulfilled in both heaven and on earth. A nice reminder that perhaps we should suppress our sinful wills and unite our wills to His.

Those few words should also generate a deep sense of humility within us. I’ve always believed humility to be the foundational virtue, without which no other virtue can exist. Humility is simply a manifestation of the reality of existence, an acceptance of the vast difference between God and me. It also helps me understand that I am no better than anyone else created by God.

The prayer then turns to a plea, asking the Father to provide all that we need to live His gift, this gift of life. Yes, we ask for “our daily bread” that which sustains us physically, but more than that, even spiritually, for Eucharistic Bread also sustains us, and provides the indwelling of God promised by Jesus Himself.

We then beg our Father for forgiveness, don’t we? But it comes with a qualification, doesn’t it?

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

How many of us consider the depth of these words? That we tell God not to forgive us if we fail to forgive others…for that’s exactly what we’re saying.

Now I’m not a priest. I’m just a deacon, a servant, but a lot of folks seem to confess a lot to me – not in a sacramental confession, just a human one. Most often they don’t realize they’re confessing. You see, they just talk to me and in doing so complain about all kinds of things. But so often it’s really about their anger, anger about something their kids or grandkids have done, or something a neighbor said or did, something they tell me they just “can’t” forgive. Of course, in truth it’s just something they won’t forgive, and I tell them so. They usually don’t like that.

I find it interesting that immediately afterwards this is the part of the prayer on which Jesus focuses. Perhaps Jesus sees it as the most important part since it can have such an effect on our salvation. I get the sense He wants to ensure we understand what we’re praying. Forgiveness is easy, brothers and sisters. After all it’s what we sinners expect from God and in our efforts to become more Christlike, God simply calls us to do the same.

Maybe that would be a good Lenten task for us today. Is there someone in need of your forgiveness? Don’t delay. Offer it to them. Or perhaps you need another’s forgiveness for something you’ve said or done. Humble yourself and ask for it. After all, by doing so you give them an opportunity to become more Christlike by forgiving you.

I think that’s enough.

God’s peace…

 

Courts, Judges, Lawyers, et al.

Note: Yesterday I wrote an earlier version of this post, but suddenly it disappeared. I know not why -- likely something stupid done by yours truly. So I've tried to duplicate below what I had written earlier.

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Okay, let me begin by apologizing to any lawyers who might read this. In truth I really don’t care much for the legal profession, despite the number of lawyers I count among my friends. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy spending time with my attorney friends and talking over all that’s interesting, until they inevitably slide down into the legal stuff and get all lawyerly on me. Then I want to throw up, and thank God that I never had a hankering to go to law school. Fortunately, friendship usually trumps the churning in my stomach and life goes on.

I bring this up today because of the news of the Supreme Court’s decision on President Trump’s use of tariffs. I couldn’t help but recall the nasty comment about lawyers from Henry IV, Part 2. There Shakespeare put words into the mouth of an unsavory character, Dick the Butcher, who supported Jack Cade. Cade, a lawless rebel and likely anarchist, not only disliked laws, but also all those who enacted them or passed judgments based on them. Jack's really an early predecessor of today's leftists, who share most of his beliefs.

For Shakespeare, Dick's words were obvious satire, and did not reflect the bard's beliefs. And yet, they've become immortal and no doubt have been inwardly enjoyed by many normally law-abiding folks who have been ill-used by lawyers. Dick's statement:

"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers."

 ...certainly not a very Christian sentiment, but we have no evidence that either Dick or Jack were practicing Christians. And as an ordained permanent deacon in the Church, I will neither applaud nor tolerate such a vile wish. I desire nobody's death and pray only for the salvation of all. 

But Shakespeare's brief comment certainly struck a chord with a lot of people over the centuries, something we cannot appreciate if we lack a sense of humor. Yes, indeed, Dick the Butcher's words have generated quite a few laughs, even from lawyers. 

I mention this because of something I heard on a local talk show yesterday as I was driving to the store. Addressing the tariff decision by the Supreme Court a caller said, "I have only one comment. Let's kill all the lawyers," and then hung up. The host and I both chuckled.

For those of you who read only this blog -- which would be very sad -- the U. S. Supreme Court, in a 6 to 3 decision, declared that President Trump's broad-based use of tariffs was not permitted by the legislation upon which he based his authority. The Court agreed that the law allows the president to "regulate" trade, but stated that such regulation does not include across-the-board tariffs, an authority granted only to Congress by the Constitution. There are other complications, for example, the law's understanding of what constitutes an emergency, and lots of other legal stuff that most citizens, including me, neither care about nor understand.

My problem with the Court's decision involves its unwillingness (or sheer inability) to address the consequences of the decision. Of course, three justices, all Trump-deranged liberals, inevitably go against the president on any major decision. But such political hacks are hardly true justices. (Just listen to Justice Katanji Brown Jackson or read her decisions...it's painful.) The Court actually prides itself on ignoring the consequences of its decisions, regardless of its effect on the economy or foreign relations. I suppose if a decision increased the probability of nuclear war, they'd congratulate themselves.

Anyway, the dissenting comments by Justices Kavanaugh, Alito, and Thomas are worth reading and, at least to me, display a clearer and wiser understanding of the issue. As for the others, please do not join Dick the Butcher and wish them dead. Our justices have already received enough death threats from those on the far left who, because they are unable to defend their beliefs, just prefer to kill their opponents. Far better to pray for them all, asking God to teach them the difference between law and justice. Pray, too, that they come to understand the importance of the Judeo-Christian foundational moral values upon which our nation came into being and sustain it still.

God's peace and justice.