Instincts and More On The Eve of My Birthday

About two and a half weeks ago, I sensed a huge shift in evil and good in and over Malta and Europe. Something happened. This instinct is not based on the increased persecution of the Christians by the Muslims, nor the saber-rattling of the Russians, which have the Poles, Finns, and Lithuanians nervous.

God has allowed something to change, and we have been warned for a long time about the last, great tribulation of the Church.  He is removing His protective Hand and allowing Satan a time to sift us all.  I have written some fiction based on three days of visions I saw in the summer of 2008, some of which was verified by two other people, one who lived hundreds of miles away. As you know, I am not into private revelations, and believe that God merely inspires our imaginations. But, I was first warned by a small voice, in French, which is interesting. to pay attention to what was going to be shown to me over the next three days at the time. Again, details do not matter much, but as Hamlet said, "The readiness is all." When we see things like this, we are not adding to revelation, but being warned of what has already been revealed. There is no new revelation.

My novellas are partly base on those visions, which happened when I was wide awake, starting in the evening, moving into the night, and in the day time as well as into the night for three days. Twice I have had messages in French, which indicates something to me personally. I understand some simple things in French, my third language after English and Latin.

Since 2000, I warned my Catholic students that they were in the Age of the Martyrs. It has begun in earnest. If you think you can avoid suffering by moving somewhere, forget it. All the West will be engulfed by evil.

The reason why I want to stay in Europe is that this is part of my "destiny" as I cannot avoid suffering here. There are different kinds of suffering.

I do not need to go into detail and I am not infallible, nor a seer, but God showed me plainly in July, 2008, a series of happenings involving the States and the Western World. It does not matter what the details are, but the message was "get ready".

Now, many others see the same thing by watching politics and by paying attention. This is good, as we are rational creatures and need to use our brains.

2008 was seven years ago, and we have had time to do what we need to do to get ready for the greatest era of suffering the Church has ever seen.

The Church will be so weakened that only those who have a relationship with God the Father, the Son of God Christ and the Holy Spirit will keep the Faith. This is why I have written the perfection series, to help you all get holy, and ready for persecution.

Do not think America or Europe will emerge unscathed from the Wrath of God brought on, mostly by the millions of aborted babies crying out for justice. One other sin which cries out to God for vengeance, and I have written about this on the blog, is sodomy. If you do not believe me, here again, is the CCC note on this fact: 1867 The catechetical tradition also recalls that there are "sins that cry to heaven": the blood of Abel,¹³⁹ the sin of the Sodomites,¹⁴⁰ the cry of the people oppressed in Egypt,¹⁴¹ the cry of the foreigner, the widow, and the orphan,¹⁴² injustice to the wage earner.¹⁴³

Do not think that you will have access to Mass or the sacraments to keep you going. You will have to keep yourself going and this is why I have begged you to pod.

I cannot impress upon my readers enough the coming catastrophes. which God will permit for four reasons: one, to create saints for His Kingdom, two to bring about converts, three, to chastise us all, and four, to purify the Church.

I cannot count the ostrich photos on this blog or the number of posts on the stages of persecution. The Church has many, many enemies, both within and without.

Are you ready?

If not, get ready. We are heading for the Last Battle, which will not be short, but will result in the glory of God.

Feast Day of St. Adam and St. Eve

One discovers interesting facts and truths in certain ways. Some of us grow up surrounded by a world of Catholicism, including excellent, if we are fortunate, Catholic education and liturgy.

I learned of this feast day a very long time ago. My parents put up the tree always on Christmas Eve when I was growing up, In fact they did this when we were sleeping and we did not see the tree until Christmas morning.

The custom of waiting until Christmas or Christmas Eve to put up the tree was connected to the Feast of SS. Adam and Eve, as the Christmas Tree was a reminder of the Tree in Paradise, part of the reason for Christ's Coming.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, of course, had red apples on it and the Medievals used these are part of the Miracle Plays on the Life of Christ done on the great feast says.

That today was in the older liturgical calendars the Feast of Our First Parents, brought out of limbo in the Harrowing of Hell by Christ, as we say in the Creed, has been forgotten.

Christ descended into hell and took those chosen by God, the righteous of the Old Testament, including Joseph, into heaven. "He descended into hell".

In the old collect for this day, the phrase "O fault, O necessary sin of Adam" linked Christmas Eve with Holy Week.

Today we think of the words in the Exsultet, which once were said on this day, this feast.

O truly necessary sin of Adam,
destroyed completely by the Death of Christ!

O happy fault
that earned for us so great, so glorious a Redeemer!

Ambrose, Augustine, and Aquinas all write on this phrase.

O felix culpa quae talem et tantum meruit habere redemptorem

Here is part of Aquinas on this subject, from this source:

On the contrary, What frees the human race from perdition is necessary for the salvation of man. But themystery of Incarnation is such; according to John 3:16: "God so loved the world as to give His only-begottenSon, that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have life everlasting." Therefore it was necessaryfor man's salvation that God should become incarnate.
I answer that, A thing is said to be necessary for a certain end in two ways. First, when the end cannot be without it; as food is necessary for the preservation of human life. Secondly, when the end is attained better and more conveniently, as a horse is necessary for a journey. In the first way it was not necessary that God should become incarnate for the restoration of human nature. For God with His omnipotent power could have restoredhuman nature in many other ways. But in the second way it was necessary that God should become incarnate for the restoration of human nature. Hence Augustine says (De Trin. xii, 10): "We shall also show that other ways were not wanting to God, to Whose power all things are equally subject; but that there was not a more fitting way of healing our misery."
Now this may be viewed with respect to our "furtherance in good." First, with regard to faith, which is made morecertain by believing God Himself Who speaks; hence Augustine says (De Civ. Dei xi, 2): "In order that man might journey more trustfully toward the truth, the Truth itself, the Son of God, having assumed human nature, established and founded faith." Secondly, with regard to hope, which is thereby greatly strengthened; henceAugustine says (De Trin. xiii): "Nothing was so necessary for raising our hope as to show us how deeply Godloved us. And what could afford us a stronger proof of this than that the Son of God should become a partner with us of human nature?" Thirdly, with regard to charity, which is greatly enkindled by this; hence Augustinesays (De Catech. Rudib. iv): "What greater cause is there of the Lord's coming than to show God's love for us?" And he afterwards adds: "If we have been slow to love, at least let us hasten to love in return." Fourthly, with regard to well-doing, in which He set us an example; hence Augustine says in a sermon (xxii de Temp.): "Manwho might be seen was not to be followed; but God was to be followed, Who could not be seen. And thereforeGod was made man, that He Who might be seen by man, and Whom man might follow, might be shown to man." Fifthly, with regard to the full participation of the Divinity, which is the true bliss of man and end of human life; and this is bestowed upon us by Christ's humanity; for Augustine says in a sermon (xiii de Temp.): "God was made man, that man might be made God."
So also was this useful for our "withdrawal from evil." First, because man is taught by it not to prefer the devil to himself, nor to honor him who is the author of sin; hence Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17): "Since human natureis so united to God as to become one person, let not these proud spirits dare to prefer themselves to man, because they have no bodies." Secondly, because we are thereby taught how great is man's dignity, lest we should sully it with sin; hence Augustine says (De Vera Relig. xvi): "God has proved to us how high a placehuman nature holds amongst creatures, inasmuch as He appeared to men as a true man." And Pope Leo says in asermon on the Nativity (xxi): "Learn, O Christian, thy worth; and being made a partner of the Divine nature, refuse to return by evil deeds to your former worthlessness." Thirdly, because, "in order to do away with man'spresumption, the grace of God is commended in Jesus Christ, though no merits of ours went before," as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17). Fourthly, because "man's pride, which is the greatest stumbling-block to our clinging to God, can be convinced and cured by humility so great," as Augustine says in the same place. Fifthly, in order to free man from the thraldom of sin, which, as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 13), "ought to be done in such a way that the devil should be overcome by the justice of the man Jesus Christ," and this was done by Christ satisfying for us. Now a mere man could not have satisfied for the whole human race, and God was not bound to satisfy; hence it behooved Jesus Christ to be both God and man. Hence Pope Leo says in the same sermon: "Weakness is assumed by strength, lowliness by majesty, mortality by eternity, in order that one and the sameMediator of God and men might die in one and rise in the other--for this was our fitting remedy. Unless He was God, He would not have brought a remedy; and unless He was man, He would not have set an example."

I wish the Church would reinstate this day as the Feast of SS. Adam and Eve and bring back the phrase which connects our thoughts with the Easter Vigil. Such a bridge of faith would help us make this a holy day, and not a day of forgetfulness and fun.

Many of us older ones also remember when Christmas Eve was a day of fast and abstinence, as it should be again.

To play and party on this day seems common now, as many families have Christmas today, instead of tomorrow, or on both days.

Pause and prepare yourselves by thinking of Adam and Eve, on the felix culpa, on your own sins, as the reason for Christ's Incarnation and coming into this world.

I always thought that one of the reasons why the angels came to the shepherds was that they represent the Old Man of sin, Adam, who is the Garden of Eden was a gardener, and who, after his very bad choice, had to work hard for his food, shelter, and clothing.

Those lowly Bedouins in the fields around Bethlehem remind us that we are unwashed, unclean, simple, even outcasts, waiting for redemption.

I sincerely hope you are waiting for Christmas, Dear Readers, not rushing about and forgetting the great mystery of our redemption in baptism, the new life given to Adam and Even this night and to us in baptism.

I was reminded by a certain seminarian that one of the reasons for the long fast in Advent in earlier days was that people were baptized on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. The waiting in penance was part of the preparation for baptism.

What Adam and Eve gained in the Harrowing of Hell, we gain in the pouring of water over our heads-freedom from Original Sin, and the gift of eternal life with God.

Their wait was a very long time. We have become so impatient, that we cannot even wait for Midnight in order to start celebrating Christmas.

Perhaps meditating on the Feast of Adam and Eve will help us see this day in a different light.

This is for J, who is making my Christmas Eve a memorable feast day....

On The Apocalyptic Scriptures

As the Liturgical Year comes to an end, something is noticeable in the readings on Sunday and during the week. The reading become centered on three themes.

These are the days of tribulation and persecution; the end of the world and the final judgement; and the need for penance.

Advent continues with the call to repentance, especially in the words of St. John the Baptist.

But, in the weeks running up to Advent, we see the persistent themes noted above.

Why?

The end of the Liturgical Year is an appropriate time for reminders of the final judgement, end times, tribulation, persecution and penance. As the season of Autumn become more wintry, as cold and darkness set in, we are reminded of death, our death and the death of all mankind. We are reminded of our particular judgement and the final judgement.

Readings from Luke remind us of Christ's words on the end times.

Readings from the Apocalypse remind us of judgement.

Readings from the prophets warn us of the truths of Revelation that we shall be persecuted and judged.

These themes are not merely in this year of Luke, but are also found in the years of Mark and Matthew. The Church has always reminded us of persecution, judgment and death at this time of year, even in the Tridentine Calendar.

Indeed, as we move towards the great feast of Christ the King, this year on November 23rd, the last Sunday of the Church Year, we see this movement towards His Reign.

We are being asked to get prepared for the Kingdom of God. We are being asked to get ready for persecution, trials, the end of the world, the final judgement.

Get ready.

The Reason for The Perfection Series II:vii and Exit Strategy Points Six

Seventeen posts today, and counting-because time is short, very short.......................but, time enough.

We have time to look at the reasons for most of the posts on this blog..............

We shall be a remnant. This will happen in my lifetime, I believe.

We have been warned a long time ago--in fact, 45 years ago, when I was 20.

We have all been too complacent and now, time is short. Read my novelettes. Read this below, again............by the Pope Emeritus as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger.

"The church will become small"

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. "The church will become small." from Faith and the Future 

(San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2009).

Note the original publication date of Faith and the Future was 1969.

The church will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning.

She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes . . . she will lose many of her social privileges. . . As a small society, [the Church]

It will be hard-going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy.

It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek . . . The process will be long and wearisome as was the road from the false progressivism on the eve of the French Revolution — when a bishop might be thought smart if he made fun of dogmas and even insinuated that the existence of God was by no means certain . . . 

But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. 

Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the whole horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret.

And so it seems certain to me that the Church is facing very hard times. The real crisis has scarcely begun. We will have to count on terrific upheavals. But I am equally certain about what will remain at the end: not the Church of the political cult, which is dead already, but the Church of faith. 

She may well no longer be the dominant social power to the extent that she was until recently; but she will enjoy a fresh blossoming and be seen as man's home, where he will find life and hope beyond death 

http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/Interiorlife/iloo13.htm

The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Four

The young priest stood on the porch looking up at the brown and black mountains to the south. He had completed his visits the day before and was resting, at least part of the day, on this Feast. He stretched, and turned to look the great eastern sky, beyond the sands and scrub-land, when Mother General approached him. Five days had passed since her miraculous healing, which, if nothing else, converted the dubious agnostic doctor, who now decided to come to daily Mass whenever he could. Mother General had another surprise for the young priest. She had had a "vision".

She stood next to the young priest, who was young enough to be her great-grandson. She had explained to him that the night of her healing, she had seen this, as if an old 3-D movie was projected onto to her bedroom wall.

"The skies were bright blue, as in the times before the nuclear blast. Birds flew over the mountains-many different types of birds, eagles, hawks, sparrows, song birds, all singing a strange morning chorus, which I have never heard in the West, but only in the Midwest and East years and years ago."

Her old blue eyes sparkled, as if she was describing the meeting of a long-lost love. "Then, I saw my little community and the monks from the old monastery up north, all in white and walking slowly towards the mountains, which suddenly shone gold and orange, almost as if they were on fire."

She stopped and folded her hands like she was praying. "Then, I saw a chariot, gigantic, silver, white, pulled by white horses, more beautiful than any horses on my father's ranch when I was growing up. The charioteer's robes shone so bright that at first, I did not know Who He was. Then, I saw His Face. It was my Bridegroom, dressed for battle. His strong and firm Face looked forward, past the birds, past the nuns and monks, to me. Then, He took His sword and made a movement as if cutting something. I felt a great heat go through my body, and I felt as if I was lifted off the bed. Then, I noticed The Lord was wearing a crown of gold and jewels. I heard thunder and saw lightning, but it was not lightning, but angels, in bright, different colors of light, with swords in their hands. Each of these lightning angels went in different directions, some north, some south, some east, some west. Then, I saw The Lord put His sword back in its scabbard. He reached out and took my hand and pulled me up. That is when I stood up, not knowing whether I was in a dream or not, whether I was alive or dead."

"Then, I heard His Voice, deep, calm, but strong. 'The next time I come, it will be in battle. You are chosen to see this.'"

Mother General stopped again. "I am so old. Do you think He meant the Second Coming, Father?"

Antonio waited to share his answer. They both looked at the sun rising above the land. "No, I do not think so. I think Christ means we are chosen to shed our blood for Him. The battle will be between some good and some evil. But, when that time is I do not know. Be at peace. We shall be ready."

He paused. "All we have is the time now, like the Hour Glass without the sand-the present moment."

Mother General answered softly, "Yes, I am ready. Now, I must "ready" my dear nuns."  The bell for Lauds rang at dawn, and the two walked slowly into the chapel. It was the Feast of the Annunciation and the nuns began the chant.

Missus est Gabriel Angelus ad Mariam Virginem desponsatam Ioseph. 

Antonio followed the Diurnal with the nuns. He loved the sweet voices and the new peace he shared.

The hymn for the day washed over Antonio like a soft shower of gold. He knew that the darkness of the past had faded into a light, a great light which would now, until his death, accompany him on his way.

Vitam præsta puram,

iter para tutum,
ut videntes Jesum
semper collætemur.

Sit laus Deo Patri,
Summo Christus decus,
Spiritui Sancto,
Tribus honor unus. Amen.

The End

copyright 2014

The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Three

St. Michael's was even more beautiful in the snow. Samuel had not been here for some time and the glory of the day took his breath away. The two Serles skipped ahead like very young men, which they were, and ran up to the Abbey Church doors. This "little corner of England which is forever France, irreclaimably French" as Ronald Knox had called it, sat like a crown of jewels on a cushion of white. Samuel was not by any stretch an "aesthete", but this abbey and grounds had always moved him, bringing him into an experience which led directly to Christ and His Mother.

Mass was just beginning, the Tridentine form, and the Abbot looked up briefly and nodded at his guests.

Samuel walked briskly to the sacristy, vested and was at the side of the sanctuary in minutes. Mark and John sat in the row behind the monks, looking the world like English Gentlemen in from a brisk walk. They laid their new walking sticks on the floor. 

Missals lay in the pews and the two, who were trained in the Mass, left them there. They had not seen books for years. There entire seminary training had been provided by memory from Columcille and Samuel. John wondered if the National Catholic Library still existed intact. Mark prayed for Columcille, Samuel and all seven of the resident monks.

The Abbot intoned the Epistle and then the Gospel. The Feast was the Annunciation. Samuel thought of all the Catholic congregations in the world, some free, some not free, some in gorgeous abbeys like this one, some in small cottages, some outside under trees, or under mountains, all celebrating the great day of the Incarnation. At every minute of every day, the Eucharist was being consecrated in some part of the world. He also mourned for those who could not attend Mass and who would hold this day sacred in their thoughts, prayers, longings.

When the Abbot intoned the Credo, Samuel's heart sang the words of his deepest beliefs. Et incarnátus est de Spíritu Sancto ex María Vírgine, et homo factus est. From all time, God had seen the Long Walk of the four clerics, the death of Columcille, the horror of the persecutions, the Church in hiding, the worldwide hatred of this day, this Woman, this God-Man, Who came to die for all.

Samuel let his heart sing and the grief stricken love for his lost friend died and rose again in a great joy. The entire Abbey glowed with the renewal of the earth. Samuel, for the first time in years, felt like he had come home. There was only this minute, only this time, only the present in which to worship God for Whom all time was one and whole. Like a clear hourglass stopped, without sand, thought Samuel. this Mass held the Timeless Sacrifice, the Body and Blood of Christ, the sign of God's presence and present among humans. To be totally present to this God was the joyous expectation of all the faithful.

To be continued.....

The Hour Glass Part Twenty-Two

Antonio woke to the sound of torrential rains. The Chinese territory which had been Arizona was only one of five states where it now rained. All the others experienced precipitation in the form of snow. This rain was like a monsoon, but cold.  The nuns were in the chapel saying Nocturns which Antonio preferred to say in his mental breviary. The nuns sang their own creations for melodies and the sound of the young voices could be heard upstairs. Antonio would join them for Lauds and then Mass immediately after. Breakfast followed.

The nuns kept the old Monastic Diurnal which was not Antonio's memorized breviary. But, Antonio loved hearing the Latin chant, albeit sung with Gregorian Chant variations a la this Benedictine order.

The sound of the rain on the roof grew louder. Winds beat against the windows. Antonio wondered whether this was "natural" storm or one brought on by the long winter coming from The Wilderness. Before he had a chance to think more about the climate, Antonio heard a soft knock at the door. It was one of the novices. "Mother has fallen and she may be seriously hurt. Please, Father, come down and help."

Antonio grabbed his black bag and rushed downstairs. The Mother had fallen down the stairs to the kitchen. She was in terrible pain and could not move her legs. She could speak. Her wimple was slightly askew. her

"Father, it is my back. I think I have broken it." She winced in pain. "Are there any doctors close by?" Antonio addressed the Novice Mistress. "Yes, just beyond the end of the road, about a mile away. Should I go?"

"Yes, and be careful in this weather." The Novice Mistress left throwing a raincoat and grabbing an umbrella from the communal rack.

Antonio told the nuns not to move Mother but to cover her with blanket to keep warm. Then, he told all but one to go into the chapel and say the rosary for Mother General, who was passing in and out of consciousness.

The minutes grew to an hour and the young nun had not returned. Antonio was not sure whether he should go after her or send another nun to meet her. The rain almost hid the road. Perhaps there was flooding.

Antonio decided to go himself. "Stay here, I need to find Mother Ebba."

He threw on a raincoat from the same rack, grabbed an umbrella and was about to rush out the door when Carl's car appeared in front of the house. Mother Ebba was with him and another man.

They came in and the doctor knelt my Mother General. He quickly determined her back was broken. "Can two of you bring a mattress down? We shall move her into her room but carry her on the mattress."

This was done. The doctor had no pain killers. He could see that the nun was in terrible pain. "She must not be moved. I cannot take her to the hospital as it is in the hands of the Chinese. I shall do what I can."

Carl stayed by the door, waiting. He kept staring at Antonio, who could feel the man's eyes on his back.

The doctor came downstairs and spoke briefly to Antonio. "Father, I am not a Catholic, but if there are prayers for the dying, I suggest you say those. And, pray for a miracle."

As he was leaving, the doctor promised to come back tomorrow with some drugs. He did not have those now. And, if there were flash floods, he would not be able to come.

Antonio went up stairs with his black bag. He approached Mother's small single bed in her plain, convent-like room. "Mother, do you want the Last Rites, just in case?" Mother looked up and smiled. "Yes. I deserve this, don't I?"

"God does not punish like this, Mother." Antonio gave Mother the Last Rites and she passed out again. He left the room when two nuns came in and sat beside Mother.

The rain continued to drench the desert area. And, flooding occurred just outside the house, with water coming up to the top step of the long wooden porch.

The Novice Mistress was second in command and took over the running of the monastery. The calm practice of the discipline of the day focused the women on God and the Rule.

Antonio had planned to visit a few families of couples and some elderly people, but the rain and flooding prevented him from these ministries. He decided to take turns watching Mother so that the two nuns could follow their normal day.

The day passed into night and the two nuns took over again for Antonio. But, in the middle of the night, someone knocked at his door. It was the Novice Mistress. "Father, you must come, now."

Antonio, shocked that Mother General was not making it through the night, brought his bag and walked quickly down the hallway to Mother General's room. But, what he saw was not what he expected. As he approached the room, he saw that all the nuns were crowded at the door of Mother General's room. They let him pass. What he saw was unbelievable. Mother General was standing at the end of the bed. Her face glowed with happiness and a deep peace descended on the nuns and Antonio. Mother General held out her hand to Antonio. "Look, look. I am healed. I am whole and it was The Lord. Praise His Mercy and His Goodness."

Antonio and all the nuns knelt down. The rains subsided. The wind vanished. Then, as if by an inner command, they all began to sing the Gregorian Chant Te Deum. Mother General, who looked years younger than before the accident, knelt of the floor with them.

Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum.
Tu Rex gloriae, Christe.
Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius.
Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem,
non horruisti Virginis uterum.
Tu, devicto mortis aculeo,
aperuisti credentibus regna caelorum.
Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in gloria Patris.
Iudex crederis esse venturus.
Te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni:
quos pretioso sanguine redemisti.
Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari


To be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Twenty-One

Walking the rest of the way without Columcille created in the minds and hearts of the three clerics a dread which grew as they crept around the northern suburbs and villages of Greater London. One night, just outside of Welwyn Garden City, they had to hide in two skips to avoid dogs and GATS.  Then, an hour later, as they approached Columcille's old friend's house in Bagshot, they had to hide in an old barn to avoid more GATS, who, thankfully, worn obviously green and orange uniforms. The barn was more of a ruin and this scouting group had no dogs.

By the time the three turned up at Msgr. Colm Langsdon's house, these pilgrims were hardly recognizable. Thankfully, Colm knew Samuel as well. The meeting was anything but happy.

Colm took them all immediately to an outside bath house, where they scrubbed down and threw their now horribly dirty clothes into a small bonfire. Colm, organized and fastidious, had bought all new clothes for any priests or seminarians who would turn up at his place on the way to Farnborough. Within the hour, Samuel and the Serles looked like an Oxford Dons in Harris Tweeds. They were given new Grenson boots as well. Mark and John wondered they would be given Norfolk jackets as well. They were.

Msgr. Colm had independent wealth and took excellent care of his motley pilgrim visitors who came from all over four counties to be or watch others being ordained at Farnborough. The cottage also held one of the best pantries and wine cellars in all of England. Samuel, still in deep grief, could not fully appreciated the largess of the host.

When Colm was told of the death of Columcille, he was quiet for a long time. "We met in Rome, and because of our names, became friends, no, we became brothers. But, Columcille was not made for this world, and I knew he would beat me to the heavens. But, I am very sorry he died this way, on the road. But, I suppose that is fitting for all us, doncha' think?"

The four each fell into their own thoughts on the deceased. Colm then served and the conversation turned to the rest of the journey.

They were each given a Bronte Shetland throw and a cup of Fortnum's Gunpowder teas, the host's favorite. Colm also had sweet and savory treats. The world of skips and dogs faded for a few hours.

"You cannot take any of the roads. The GATS have become paranoid ,and some of their generals disagree with the continued presence of St. Michael's. We have been very lucky so far to have the abbey untouched and valued by an effete of a brother of the abbot's.  Very fortunate. But, this may change at any time, like our world."

"I suggest you rest a few hours, and leave at night. The curfews are not enforced here or south of here, and you could make the abbey easily in two hours. You must avoid Camberley. Go between the two old golf courses and cut back. The GATS have some sort of storage of ammunition at Camberley of all places."

"If you sleep and eat, we can say Mass, hear each other's confessions and then you can leave."

No one disagreed with this plan. Colm knew the area and had much experience with the road walkers.

"Now, I am excusing myself, as I need to be alone. I want to think about Columcille and then old days."

The three stood up and watched the priest, who, although younger than Samuel by many years, seemed old and bent. Then, they went to their rooms for a rest.

Later, after a long sleep, confessions, Mass and a huge dinner, Samuel, Mark and John left. They also were given Irish walking sticks to complete the "look" and Melton wool caps. Mark and John could hardly keep from laughing out loud. Where Colm managed to get all these things new seemed a miracle.

Finally, Colm gave each one a new Anstruther mac. John did crack up at this point and had to be poked several times by Mark to stop snorting. Well, Samuel thought, as he knew well the abbot of Farnborough, we shall be appreciated there...

to be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Twenty

Antonio stood by the large glass windows facing the mountains near Queen's Creek. He was not in a good mood. In fact, he was very close to going back to Texas and then to Louisiana, somehow. His thoughts were not necessarily rational,  but he saw a type of slavery here, a type of confusion not seen in the barn Masses in Louisiana. There, the Catholics caught between the GATS and the Chinese knew their lives were like smoke-here and gone. They lived in the present moment, like the Nuncio had stressed when referring to his odd, sand-less hourglass. Here, even the nuns seemed wrapped up in a false security, seemingly insured by Carl and his rogue businessmen, his Chinese deserters, who used him to make it in Mexico. This set-up reminded Antonio of discussions on the old Church in Sicily before the troubles purged all connections with the Mafia. Gone were the old ties there, dying in the blood of martyrs and the amazing conversion of many who stood at the edge of ruin and the grave. Reality therapy had saved souls.

Here, in this beautiful "safe house" guarded by those loyal to Carl, Antonio felt "bought", pandered to because he was a priest. The cutting edge of living life as a sign of contradiction simply was absent from those in his immediate group. Oh, yes, the nuns prayed seven times a day and he said Masses for the living and the dead, but they were totally dependent on Carl for all their physical needs. Antonio felt that he was "keeping" them, like an insurance policy for the afterlife. Something was not right.

The young priest served the nuns and a small community of Catholics who managed to walk out in the dark to this remote plot of land beneath the mountains. About 30 Catholics, all adults, no children, came to the bi-weekly Mass Antonio had established. He heard confessions. He baptized and confirmed an adult convert who had waited a long time for a missionary priest. One day, he asked the nuns why there were no children.

"Do not talk about this. The Chinese stole all the children. Like the story of the Pied Piper, all those under 18 disappeared under the mountain. This happened when the invasion first took place and the army was strong, before they were abandoned by their own government." Antonio could hardly believe this story. "And," the nun continued, "many of our congregation are parents who have lost their children. Do not, at least now, bring this up. There are no children within a 100 mile radius of the San Tan Mountain region."

Antonio promised to be silent on this subject. It seemed bizarre to him, in keeping with the entire organization.  He grew increasingly uncomfortable. The priest had to pray about this situation. His gut reactions told him that what was unseen was more malicious than what was visible.

He did not blame the nuns for any confusion or deceit. They were relying on a supposedly good Catholic man for protection and the necessities of life itself. Antonio's doubts did not include judgment.

However, his own instincts came to the surface into his mind when Mother General came to him one night, alone and asking for spiritual counseling. She wanted his advice.

"We are in a dangerous position here and we know it. But, I am concerned about the souls of my young nuns, and as you have seen, they are all young. They seem, well, out of touch with the Cross. We grateful were taken from death by those who now have died, so that we could come here and pray and serve God. But, Antonio, should we have stayed and been martyred? I sometimes think I made the wrong decision coming here to what I thought was a place to serve the Church through prayer. But, we are not suffering, except in anxiety, not knowing what will happen day by day. Did I make the wrong decision for my little congregation? Did I run away from the Cross God offered all of us?"

Now, Antonio knew how to respond to this series of questions. His gut feelings had proved good and true.

"Mother, I think you were wrong. But, God will give you another opportunity to show Him that you love Him more than life. Make a good confession, repent, and move on. God is good and offers us the crown again and again. I know this is so."

Mother's eyes filled with tears. She accepted the rebuke she sensed was coming. She confessed not obeying the Will of God and for leading her nuns away from God's Will. 

Antonio knew that he could stay now. He knew he had a spiritual sister in Mother whose eyes had been opened by grace. He knew they would both be offered the crown of glory through suffering. He rested in the peace of the Cross.

To be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Nineteen

The first stop, not counting rests in copses along the way, was at Haughley. Quickly, word that Catholics priests would have confession and say Mass spread around the area. By the time the priests were ready for the faithful, fifteen people were at the door of the large house. Staying six hours, after hearing confessions, saying Mass and giving a teaching, leaving at dark, the four continued through the countryside, moving beyond Newman's Green, and trudging towards their next stop at Margeretting Tye, a hamlet with a handful of houses and cottages. Samuel wanted all the stay overnight there, instead of taking a few hours of rest. Columcille seemed ill. He shuffled rather than walked, and he looked at the ground.

At Margaretting Tye in a newish cottage off the main road, the Howards had cousins. This family, the Talbots, claimed descendancy and the Howards, indeed accepted them as related from the wife of Thomas, Alethea Talbot. Their claims could be physically seen even in this rather small house, as originals of Titian graced the walls.

Samuel said Mass for the family only, as these were the only Catholics left in this hamlet. Then, the four washed and slept for two hours. The Talbots provided new clothes, boots and more food for the road. The snow was hampering the men's timetable, but Samuel's prediction of 70 hours, as opposed to the usual 50, included making more stops than one would on sunny July day.

Samuel decided to skip Bartholomew Green as the walk around London caused them all a certain amount of trepidation. London and the outskirts must be avoided. The only way to go was north, and then west again.

They could double back to Bagshot in a day and rest there before going on to Farnborough Abbey.

The Serles provided the priests with much humor. They bickered and quarreled, mostly in fun, like siblings, but their good temper and optimism infected the small party. They had concealed their disappointment at missing the house in Pebmarsh. Mark was a bit homesick. But, the weather became the greatest obstacle, as the farther south the group traveled, they endured worse and worse bitter winds and snow.

Then, an hour out of Margaretting Tye, Columcille collapsed. Samuel blamed himself for not letting the priest stay at Braintree with his old friend. The older priest felt he was pushing the group too hard. But, Braintree was six hours back, and the group could not go that far. Should they backtrack to Margaretting Tye? Were there any safe houses north of Greater London besides Bagshot, more than eleven hours away, if one did not cross London?

"We have to go back. I do not know of one house between the Talbots and Bagshot. Do you?" Samuel turned to the Serles. "St Mary's Church, Ingatestone! There was an Anglo-Catholic priest there, but it would be the same time, almost, as going back to Margaretting Tye. I cannot think of anything closer." Mark spoke first.

Then his brother had another idea. "You have forgotten the sisters at Pilgrim's Hatch. That would be no more than fifteen minutes from here. We can go there."

Samuel, in his anxiety and rush, had forgotten the good sisters in hiding there. "Yes, this is Providential. I need to see them, of course."

The two young men picked up Columcille and carried him between them. He felt hot, feverish. They stumbled in the snow.

The three walked as fast as they could and finally, they saw the old dairy which was where the sisters were supposed to be. A dark line of smoke rose from the chimney. If they had to meet strangers, so be it. Columcille was very ill.

"Mark, run ahead and find out who is there. Just say you are a traveler. Use your wits." Samuel and the others waited about thirty feet from the door under some yew trees.

The door opened and a woman spoke to Mark. He then ran back to the others. "Fine, the sisters are here. Hurry, they say they are watched."

Within minutes, Columcille was in a warm bed under the care of Sister Audrey, a former nurse. The other three washed, and ate tea and toast with the other three sisters.

"I thought you had more sisters here, Sister Agnes," noted Samuel.

"We started out up north with eight. Within the first year, two died. Sister Louis de Montfort and Sister Matthew Mary, who were both elderly, died of the flu. Then, two months ago, Sister Frances Xavier died of a heart attack. A month later, Sister Hilda died suddenly. We honestly do not know why. They are all buried behind the old dairy. Will you bless their graves, Father, I mean Samuel. None had the Last Rites."

Samuel looked into the large, sad eyes of Mother Charles, and said, "Of course and, I am sure you want Mass and confessions."

The two seminarians went upstairs to the small bedroom where Sister Audrey looked over Columcille.

"He is not well. It is some putrid fever which I cannot identify. There are so many strange and new illnesses. I must say I am afraid for him."  The two seminarians told Sister they would watch so that she could go to confession and attend Mass, while the young men took turns. Mark stayed. After Mass, Samuel brought Communion to John. He was hoping to give Communion to Columcille, but the priest's face was grey.

"John, he is slipping away from us." Samuel could hardly speak. He then prayed the prayers of the dying and anointed Columcille. At the end of the sacrament, Columcille opened his eyes. "Samuel, I would like the Lord in the Host."

"Yes, can you swallow?" Samuel became emotional, but he tried to control his voice. This was his spiritual son, slipping away into eternity. He priest gave his friend Viaticum.

"You will get better, Columcille," the old priest said softly.

"No, I am dying, Samuel. I know."

"Now, now...." Samuel could not finish his sentence. "Do not say that."

"Samuel, I know, I know. I have seen The Lord. I saw Him, without the black spots. Do you understand? I saw Him."

Samuel bowed his head and went out of the room. He called the sisters around him. "Come, watch the death of a saint."

The four sisters, John and Mark stood around the bed. They decided to sing the Salve Regina, for some reason. And, Columcille died.

Samuel decided, as it was night, they would stay this night, and a day and leave at night the following day.

Sister Audrey took over, and in the dark before dawn, another grave was added to the small cemetery of sisters behind the dairy. Samuel blessed all the mounds, all but one hidden by the snow. He stood there for a long time. Why do the young have to go first? Why am I now so alone?  God's ways were not our ways.....And I wanted him at Farnborough, not here.

To be continued...

The Hour Glass Part Eighteen

The two nuns walked through a long tunnel about a mile long before coming to a long stair. Moving down, the three walked another half mile. Antonio thought they were moving north. Then, they went up some stairs and went through a metal door. Suddenly, the three were inside a garage, where a car was parked. A man sat in the front of the car. It resembled a military vehicle. Antonio felt confused and unsure. The entire day had been so emotional for him. "Carl will take you to a safe house. We are going another way and will meet you there. God be with you."

"And with you, Mothers." Antonio said and got into the car.

"Father, lie on the floor in the back as best you can. We are on the other side of Hunt Highway and we have to go to Queen's Creek. Do not talk."

Antonio did not realize that residents in the Chinese territories had cars. He did as he was told and the man threw a blanket over him.

In a half-hour, the car pulled up into a large plot of land in front of a small ranch house. "Go in, quickly."

Carl then got back into his car and left immediately. Antonio went into the small ranch house. There were mountains in the distance. In the large open room, the priest was immediately surrounded by ten nuns. They guided him to a room upstairs and told him to feel free to take a shower and sleep. Was he hungry? Did he need anything?

Antonio took a beautiful hot shower. The bathroom and the entire house was decorated Western style. He put on a robe laid out for him, and fell onto the bed. The priest slept from three in the afternoon until six the next morning. As he came downstairs, he realized that life was not exactly as one would expect in the Chinese Zone.  Mother General came up to meet him. "I am sure you will say Mass for us later, Father, but have breakfast and we shall explain our situation. The two nuns he had seen on the hill were there as well. All sat down for a good old-fashioned American breakfast. Mother spoke quietly but quickly.

"We are the nuns who wrote to the Nuncio. We had great faith that he would send us and others a priest. We are in an area which is ignored by the Chinese simply because they are worn out and no longer care. Most of the soldiers have either left or become part of the communities. Some have even been killed by their own, as if there are warlords fighting over their own plots of land. They no longer feel connected to China here and feel abandoned by their own people. Indeed, they may be. There is a strong underground economy from Mexico and many Chinese have stopped being soldiers and are playing at business. That is how Carlos has such freedom and why we are protected, at least for now."

There is civil war as well. The locals have acquired guns and many Chinese have been killed, but the situation is unstable and unsafe on the whole. As we are cloistered, we do not get involved. I sent two of my nuns to the Mountain simply to find you and bring you back. We knew you would come."

Antonio drank some of the hot coffee. Even the mugs had Arizona themes on them. The house seemed to be someone's play house, all Western decor and painted in the colors of the desert. It was homey, but he did not feel safe. Was this really a safe house?

"Do you know what happened at the windmill? Do you know about Daniel Morales?"

Mother General spoke with some sadness. "There was a Father Daniel Morales. Someone found out that he had contacted the Nuncio for a priest to come join him. He worked more north of here. Sadly, when the Chinese discovered him, they killed him. But, they had also found out that a priest was coming, and were at the windmill to take you away or kill you."

"The fire, the little bomb?"  Antonio asked. "That was done by our local underground possee. Carlos told us it was planned to kill the Chinese soldiers. Daniel Morales died three weeks ago, but we pray for him."

"I am glad he was not part of a trap," Antonio said softly. He wondered if this set-up could change day-by-day. He would say many Masses for this brave priest.

"Do you feel safe here, Mother?"  Mother General smiled. "We are as safe as God wants us to be. But, we are living in the middle of a civil war. That is the truth."

Lousiana seemed like a far away resort compared to the complications here He had another question."How is it that Carl has a car and gasoline? Is he friendly with the army?"

"No, but he is a businessman with many contacts and his money has set up some ex-soldiers, deserters really, who have gone over to the Mexican side-a sort of opposite immigration, if you will. He is hiring many of there men and they are grateful. His car and gas are from Mexico and much of our food and necessities. We owe so much to him. And, now you are here."

Antonio knew this was perhaps the most dangerous situation he had ever encountered. But, the nuns needed him, and he had just crossed into an area which, many, many years ago had been the home of the American Guzmans. This was his territory.

to be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Seventeen

Four men left the house outside of Diss in the middle of the night in March. They each looked like travelers, and carried sacks. Only one had a Mass kit. The others had no identification. Samuel led the way. The journey to St.Michael's Abbey would have taken only about 50 hours if one could go through London, but London had to be avoided. Samuel planned on a 60 to 70 hour trip, considering the snowy weather and the long routes. The four would be going across country to the east of London and then south avoiding the A1066, A131, A12, M25, A30 and A325 as well as other motorways. They would rest at Gislingham, Haughley, Newman's Green, if necessary, and many other Catholic houses on the way. Columcille had friends from the Venerable English college in Bartholomew Green near Braintree, and at Bagshot. At Margaretting Tye, the Howards had cousins. A small clandestine convent held four nuns at Pilgrims Hatch. They could rest at those places as well. Whenever they stayed at a Catholic house, the priests would say Mass. If they stayed a few hours, they could hear confessions and baptize babies.

The two seminarians, Mark and John Serle, were brothers whose family were in Pebmarsh, so the small company could also stop there. Their walk would not include any major roads. Even though all the clergy were accustomed to walking, any trip to the Bishop at Farnborough could be dangerous. One priest two years ago had been attacked at Great Waltham by a wild boar. Thankfully, his companion was not only a priest but a former doctor, and there was a Catholic house in the area. On another trip, Samuel, with a priest now passed away, had narrowly escaped being captured by GATS outside Chelmsford.  The globals still had a base there for some reason. Between Brentwood and London, no safe houses existed and the curfew was in effect in Greater London. In 2020, four priests had been hanged in the Romford Garden Suburb.

The Long Walk began....

To be continued...

The Hour Glass Part Sixteen

The desert proved to be colder than Antonio anticipated. He had a day, a night and a morning to meet his priest, whose letter was one of the four in his pocket. Daniel Morales had written to the Nuncio of the terrible deaths of Catholics under the Chinese. This priest had, according to his own handwriting, been imprisoned and escaped. All those who were taken prisoner with him were executed. How he escaped, he did not say. But the Nuncio, being a wise man, had sent out men to verify this story and found out that on a trip from one military camp to another, an entire truck load of prisoners had been taken out to the desert to be shot. It was rumored that one survived and escaped. The bodies were left unburied.

Daniel would be at the windmill to meet Antonio. There had been no letters between the Nuncio and Daniel, only that priest's first plea. If he was genuine, Antonio was to travel with him. If not, well, Antonio gave his body and soul to Christ.

The day was bright but cold. The paths were old and uneven. The old bike paths had not been used for years and stubble, new plants and rocks hindered the priest's walk. He had to sit down near a Saguaro near a large Creosote tree. He was tired and a bit low. The flesh pots of Texas had weakened his endurance, or so he thought. In reality, he was sensing, even dreading something dangerous and mysterious.

He looked up towards the mountains and his eye skimmed the scrub land in front of his feet. Then, he saw something which made his heart skip a beat-a large black Benedictine rosary, the kind worn by Benedictine nuns throughout the entire world. Antonio got up and walked over to the Pincushion cacti next to where this rosary lay. He bent over and picked it up. The beads were dusty and dry, and the cross was mottled. The rosary had been here for a long time. Was it a sign, "Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." Or was it a prophecy of things to come, a warning from the dead? A chill gripped Antonio for a moment. Then he remembered to whom his life and soul belonged, and he put the rosary in his pocket and walked on. However, he thought that it might be a wise move to walk up the hill opposite the windmill, close to the ground, and lay there, looking towards the small pool to make sure this meeting was not a trap.

The priest took a small detour up a small hill, coming in from the back and crawled to the top. He would wait until almost the appointed time of meeting. His clothing blended in with the terrain, and he worn a helmet one of the Rangers had placed on his head. He would be hard to see unless someone was looking for him.

There would be one person looking for him, Daniel Morales. Antonio looked up towards the Goldmine Mountains. If there were nuns in this place, they would most likely be there.

He could see no signs of life. No birds, no lizards, no insects lived on this hill. The dirt and loose rock had made his ascent difficult, so he was glad to rest. For a brief moment, he imagined he heard a screech, like a large bird, an eagle, perhaps. Then, he saw movement by the windmill. One man stood there with binoculars looking up towards the north trails.

As fast as he could, Antonio slid to the far side of the hill. He could not see the man or the windmill. He was out of sight of binoculars, however. He had to make a decision. He waited at least seven minutes, and then crawled back to his view of the windmill. The one man was still there, but looking towards the south now. Then, a sick feeling, a great revulsion caused Antonio's body to tremble. There were three more men at the windmill. The priest quickly left his vantage point and stooping ran to the far side of the hill facing the west. 

  A trap! Either the priest had been used for this set-up, or he had been intercepted, but at least three men at the windmill were obviously soldiers. The time was about one in the afternoon. Antonio decided, bravely, not to stay in this place, but to crawl down the hill on his hands and knees and move quickly north. The biggest problem was that the land beyond this hill and the section moving north was banded on the east, in the direction of the windmill by almost flat land. If he moved north, he most likely would be seen. He made up his mind to take the San Tan Trail up to the Dynamite Trail and back to the Goldmine during the night. He thought if he could get to the area of the Graves he would be safe to rest. But, getting through the lower parts without being seen seemed impossible.

  Then, an act of God, or man, occurred. A great explosion and a huge light rolled out of the windmill area. Even from this distance, Antonio heard screaming. The windmill was gone in a burst of fire. In the chaos, Antonio realized he had a chance. He ran as fast as he could without looking back up the San Tan trail toward the Dynamite Trail, an appropriate name under these amazing circumstances.

  The priest ran and moved into the Dynamite Trail, only when he was in the hills there, did he look back and see a plume of black smoke coming from the entrance area so far away, as it seemed. He kept going and after a long time got to the Graves. Antonio collapsed and took out a little flask of water. He looked up towards the mountains and he saw an extraordinary sight. Two nuns about 500 feet up were waving at him. Then, they just as quickly disappeared. Antonio was exhausted, but he had to climb this side of the Goldmines to get to where the two figures had waved at him. The Goldmine Trail lay below him to the south again, but he had to take that to start the steep climb up to the place where he thought the nuns would be.

  He continued, slowly, very slowly and his heart was pounding when he reached the ridge where he saw the nuns. There was a hole in the side of the mountain about five feet in diameter, half hidden by two dead Fairy Duster shrubs. Instinctively, Antonio went in, feet first. He landed in a large room not quite on his feet, and a bit unsteady, and in front of him on the right, were two nuns, one holding a candle. "Come follow us, now." For the second time this day, Antonio moved in astonishment. He had found the monastery.

  To be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Fifteen

The number of generations which passed since the 1534, which began the great persecution of Catholics, may not be able to be determined in some families, but the Howards had a clear idea. Some of that clan had fallen away to the Protestant side, but most remained faithful and suffered accordingly.

The two Thomases duly entered the small seminary outside of Diss, populated by eight men. Ten seemed like a bumper crop to Samuel, who went three times a week to teach all the necessary courses. Most of the time, the young men memorized the necessary texts for the liturgy and for sacraments.

Their arrival was like bringing springtime into the winter of the Catholic Church. To have Howards, even though from the wrong side of the bed of the original Earl, and to have strong men join the small group encouraged all.

Samuel was ready to send a letter to the one bishop within a several-hundred mile area, the Bishop of Portsmouth, in hiding somewhere in Hampshire, asking to send three young men south for ordination. The Bishop would then decide where they would work, and not necessarily in their own home dioceses.

Several bishops had died and some where in hiding. Some were part of the false, global, schismatic church.

Samuel knew that when he sent off his students to be ordained, he may not see them again. 

Two seminarians would travel to a small town near Peterfield, called, Steep, where the Bishop of Portsmouth held a clandestine court, as it were. Bishop Adejola, who was Nigeria on his mother's side and English on his father's. The two seminarians would be escorted by Columcille for the ordinations. Columcille would return alone. As Samuel was telling this plan to the younger priest, he knew it was time to share his growing blindness.

"I must tell you something serious, Samuel. I cannot make this trip if I must come back alone. I am almost blind in one eye with a family disease of macular degeneration. I am so sorry. I cannot say how this is a cross, not only for me but for all of us."

The young priest and Samuel were sitting in the remarkably comfortable sitting room of the small cottage.

Sonja and Aidan were out. Samuel got up and put his hand on Columcille's shoulder. "I knew something was wrong and now I know. I shall go with the two and you stay here. Sonja and Aidan will help you, as this is their life. You can rely on them."

"Samuel, please bless me, as I am afraid." Samuel said, "Benedicat vos Omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus."

He sat down. "Do not be afraid. God is in charge of all of our crosses. I am content to leave with the young men."

Samuel's heart was breaking. Columcille was a son to him. This blindness was a serious blow to the future of this ministry. But, nothing could be done. These two priests were, to their knowledge, the only two working priests in Norfok and East Anglia.  And, this would mean that at least one of the new priests would come back to this area. Nothing was to be done. 

Columcille felt his uselessness keenly. All his life, he had been a bit manic about activity. The growing blindness at first had been a shock and then a slow, sad realization of a change of life.  Columcille was plunged into his Dark Night, in more ways than one.

Samuel also wondered if Columcille should go to the last remaining monastery in England, at Farnborough, which was on the way to Steep. Samuel decided to pray about his good friend to see if this was a peaceful solution. The Abbey was about eight hours from Steep. Much to think about....

Samuel could suggest that Columcille go on a retreat at this one protected abbey-a miracle of events saved this one from destruction. The abbot was the brother of the vice-president of the global government in Greenland. Nothing would happen to that abbey for a long time.

Perhaps a retreat for both of them would be a good idea. The older priest looked at the younger man, who sat with his head in his hands. He thought, here is a man on his way to becoming a saint. 

To be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Fourteen

Antonio did not stay long at Our Lady of Walsingham parish. He was taken out to dinner daily and realized what a gift of a community resided in this place of the Ordinariate home parish. The liturgies lived up to expectations and the choir soothed Antonio's nerves. He was on a sort of retreat. Besides, the missionary priest, like St. Paul knew  both how to be brought low, and I know how to abound: (everywhere, and in all things I am instructed) both to be full, and to be hungry; both to abound, and to suffer need.  This was a brief time of abundance and how Antonio wished he could share this with his new flock in the Chinese territories. When his time of r and r ended, the Archbishop sent him a note indicating that two soldiers of the Republic would escort him deep into enemy territory, and leave him there. He would meet another priest who had been working in the San Tan Mountain Regional Park. Antonio and the two Texas Rangers would travel dressed like "bums", except for the soldiers sophisticated weapons and night vision goggles. Antonio was given a flak jacket. 

One thing which Antonio read in the letter surprised him. One of his goals was to find a small community of Benedictine nuns who had escaped the purges of the monasteries and be their chaplain, adding an interesting ministry to his missionary work. One of the letters, all now in Antonio's pocket, was from a Sister Methodius, the Mother General of a group of eleven nuns who had managed to get out of Oklahoma before both the nuclear blast and the Chinese invasion. They initially were accompanied by a Benedictine monk who had since died. Antonio hoped sincerely that he would find them. The Rangers would take him to the edge of the Park and leave him there. He was as ready as he ever would be. The idea of finding a group of contemplative nuns in the middle of nowhere did seem like a stretch of the Nuncio's imagination, but the letter from the Mother General was one of four in his inner pocket. 

The route, by necessity, was across open land in places, but the Rangers took Antonio farther south than he would have gone, approaching the desert park from the south. Traveling at night and resting briefly in the day was not a new experience for Antonio. It only took ten days to cross over from the tower at Las Cruces to the desert park. Once a thriving tourist area for hikers and bikers, this mountain area and scrub land were largely deserted. The Ranger knew of Chinese army installations on the north side, which is why they came in from the south.

"To be honest," said Ranger Smith, I cannot imagine anyone living out here for long."

The three were standing at the edge of a small scrubby bunch of unidentified bushes on the north side of the Malpais Hills. Antonio was being given instructions on how to get across the trails, some of which were partly in washes, up to the edge of the Goldmine Mountains. The letter, dated six months ago, indicated the nuns had a cave, or some type of shelter. Antonio felt a bit like Frodo going into Mordor without Sam. The priest he was to meet had indicated he would be at the pond and windmill area, close to the entrance of the park on the east side. That was too close for comfort in the minds of the Rangers for Antonio to go, as the other side of the road up by the entrance was dotted with housing developments. The Chinese used Thompson Road. However, Antonio had no choice but to continue to this rendezvous, set up by the priest and communicated to the Nuncio two months ago. The date was a full-twenty-four hours hence, so Antonio had plenty of time to cross the terrain. The Rangers had been instructed to give Antonio supplies for one day, maps of the trails, maps of the mountain area, a gun, and a knapsack of other survival essentials. In addition, he had his Mass kit-the only identification that he was a priest. The idea that three men would be more obvious than one created the orders that these two Rangers had to turn back at this point.

They knelt on the rocky ground and asked for Antonio's blessing. He had two St. Michael medals which he gave to both men. Then, Antonio turned and faced his walk. He, too, had doubts about finding a lean-to or cave monastery of Benedictines, or even the lone priest. For some odd reason, Antonio was overwhelmed with love and home sickness for his dead mother. Perhaps, he thought, she was watching over him in this extraordinary walk into the unknown. Quickly, he sent a prayer to her, and to his Most Blessed Mother Mary, and stepped onto the trail just north of Rock Peak.

To be continued....

The Hour Glass Part Thirteen

The Thetford Forest Park held back some of the fierce winds and snow which increased during the day. Columcille felt a sense of unreality seeing the snow blow up in high waves. The think pines and beeches held the worst back, and, like a little Hansel and Gretel cottage, a small house stood at the edge of the part, far from the high road.

The cottage had been given to the priests years ago by a woman who was known as a hermit, a contemplative, who died alone, but in grace. She was related to Samuel, and he inherited her cottage, but let a young couple stay there and take care of it. This couple, two of the new generation of traditional Catholics, had been artists until the supplies dried up and the light grew dimmer because of the winter conditions. They had been painters of beautiful landscapes as well as portraits. But, in these days of survival, art was not valued except by the very few. They had tried making paints from the earth, but water was too valuable to use for paint.

Sonja Jens was from a Swedish family which had come to Great Britain when she was a toddler, over 20 years ago. Her husband, Aidan Parker came from a family in Bury St. Edmund's. For years, he did pottery, but switched to painting, which is why he met his wife, in a shop buying brushes. That was six years ago. They were married by Samuel last spring. They both bartered for food and necessities, making signs or decorating, until supplies such as paint could no longer be found. At this time, the young couple were in a survival mode, living off the land, and relying on help from Aidan's Catholic family. Sonja was a convert. She and her husband, with the spiritual aid of Samuel, had decided for a celibate marriage. They had dedicated themselves to God in this way in a small service at the cottage last year, only a few weeks before they were married. Despite the canon of Trent on this subject, some young Catholics had chosen this way after prayer and fasting, under spiritual direction. Sonja and Aidan had felt called by God to protect and harbor priests, dedicating their lives to the remnant. Samuel felt this call was genuine and accepted, as the alter Christus, their life-long commitment to a Josephite Marriage. This state gave both young people a focus and a burning desire to help each other serve the surviving Church. Such was their call.

They both loved Samuel and Columcille, and the four considered each other as family. The cottage had been used a few times for Mass. Some of the seminarians used the cottage for "desert days", which was a bit of a joke, as all Catholics lived in desert, isolated conditions. But, to go up to Thetford was a bit of a treat. Diss had an odd spiritual cloud hanging over it.

The roads were in terrible shape as a small earthquake had split the motorway. It could not be mended until the global government allowed cement and tarmac to be used for roads not used by the military. Stanford Training Area had been abandoned after the troops loyal to the King had been defeated by the GATS. 

The once important army base, built up for the old Afghan wars,  basically in ruins. Some Catholic families actually lived in some of the old huts. Eastmere, likewise abandoned, was a stronghold of recusants, but many had left after a stand-off with the GATS resulted in deaths. That was several years ago. Some families came back to the ruins and were living in the odd village. STANTA, ironically, was now in the hands of poor, starving, Catholic families, living much like the Romanies of old. 

Samuel remembered the hay-days of the English army facilities, but the younger priest and the Parkers only knew ruins and refugees. How odd it was that the old base and village had become places of relative peace after months of fighting, when some Catholics had weapons and the idea that such rebellion would create others to rise up against the GATS. That hope faded quickly.

The forest was actually encroaching on the old base. Trees grew in old fields, making new copses. Like marching men, the firs grew up on old, unused roads, albeit small and still young trees. The whole area seemed haunted by WWII soldiers and the returning vets of the Middle Eastern Wars. In reality, it was haunted by Catholics on the edge of disaster.

The great advantage for the refugees were water supplies and wood for fuel. If Great Britain had been more organized, the globals would have destroyed these make-shift Catholic refugee camps. But, small pockets were being ignored until the GATS regrouped. GATS were much more successful on the continent. France was under martial law, as were the Netherlands, Spain, Portugal, and other countries east of the Danube.

Scandinavia was under ice. The globalists in Greenland, the only center with electricity and computers, were trying to deal with more primitive conditions then they had expected. Pockets of resistance were found in Italy and Germany, as well as Luxembourg. The globalists were planning to set up the center of their one world government in Dublin, which was now the center of anti-religious sentiments, and a completely destroyed church. All the real Catholics in Ireland, both in the north and in the south, were "underground" again. The others, including bishops, melted away into the secular global vision and disappeared once their usefulness was over.

The anarchists had been used by the globalists and then destroyed. Some had come over to the "Catholic cause" in conversions which delighted all and showed that grace was given to all at some point. Sadly, thousands of anarchists perished after their usefulness in destroying infrastructures and churches was deemed "done". If America's situation of the four zones, and China's situation of being buried in ice because of the retaliation of the American's in destroying North (and therefore, South) Korea seemed dire, Europe's chaos seemed to be a better scenario for the Church, as armies could only hold onto scattered pockets at this time, and as the leaders of some of the countries themselves, such as in Latvia, Lithuanian, Poland and the Ukraine, openly opposed the globalists, with weapons. Sadly, some of those countries were falling into "the long winter" as the ice grew. Many Catholics had fled to Africa, where the Church was thriving except in areas long held by Islamists. Sicily was so crowded it was jokingly called The Metropolis, or The Met. Over 8 million people, at least, were squashed in that country and Anselm had stayed there for a short time. Most were living in dire poverty. 

Anselm was in Africa, so the rumors said. But exactly where was a huge secret.

Columcille had to deal with a new suffering. He was not sure when or how to tell Samuel that he was going blind. The young priest did not know why this was happening, but in his family there had been early onset macular degeneration. He now had a permanent "blind spot" in the left eye. He was concerned about becoming a burden to the cause. He was waiting for a time to share his problem with Samuel. He would wait for the right time. 

to be continued....