I am gratified that the long-awaited motu proprio from Pope Benedict, urging a wider celebration of the Tridentine Rite, is out. I’m happy for those, including my son, who love to worship in that way. More power to ’em. Some of the loveliest Catholics I know are devotees of the Tridentine Rite.
That said, I was not personally excited when news of the motu proprio broke, since it doesn’t especially affect me.
All one can ever imagine of Eve is the fig leaf, but the whole issue is more universal, and at the same time somehow more prickly, than any isolated contretemps in the Legoland of the senses. Say “glutton,” and in your mind’s eye you’ll see a mutton joint being brandished by some Rabelaisian hand; say “hunter,” and you’ll see a shotgun and the obligatory hat; say “courtesan,” and you’ll see a dressing table, a vase of bonbons, the lamp in the window. Try saying “beloved,” then. As in “my beloved.” What is it that you see? Wait, don’t tell me. Just give me a minute, and I’ll try to imagine it for myself.
Now that the youngest of our World War II veterans, with but a few exceptions, are in their 80’s, I fear that, as they die, memory of them will die also.
How much would you pay for a library card? In Rockford, if you are not a resident, you have to pay $140 per year for the privilege of using the Rockford Public Library system. With six branches scattered throughout the city and over 400,000 volumes, most avid readers who aren’t relying on the library for scholarly research would get their money’s worth in a few months.
But what if you had to pay $4,197.24? And what if the cost of your library card were based on the assessed value of your house, so that, in all likelihood, it would rise every year?