Posted on 02/28/2011 6:09:38 AM PST by marcbold
When one thinks of notorious vigilantes, several names and personality types come to mind. Perhaps Charles Bronson or Dirty Harry, or maybe even the Dark Knight, Batman. But personally, I have yet to run into tragic costumed figure or a rogue cop who has just had enough.
But I have met a person who has had enough and can’t take it anymore, a person who has seen too much lawbreaking simply ignored by the competent authorities, a person who has finally decided to do something about it—to become a vigilante—Mrs. McGillicuddy. She sits in the third pew on the left.
As general rule, vigilantes are not born, they are made. Their steely resolve to right the wrong, forged in the fires of un-rectified lawlessness, transforms them into self appointed guardians of the good. They become—watchmen.
The Mrs. McGillicuddys of the world have had much to endure these last forty years. They sit in their pews and watch as liturgical experimentation and improvisation transform the holy mass into a vehicle of self expression for those who do not understand what it truly expresses. They sit and wonder, when will somebody do something about this? When? When they finally reach the reluctant conclusion of never, what follows results in either resignation or transformation.
Now a confession, I’m a Mrs. McGillicuddy. But I don’t want to be.
Some years ago, I bought a new house. In preparation for the move of my family, I excitedly went to mass at my soon-to-be parish home. I was floored. The holy Mass seemed almost unrecognizable. I actually checked the sign on the way out to make sure it said Roman Catholic, just in case I had accidentally wandered into some other strange denomination’s environs. No such luck, it said Catholic.
Folks, let me be clear here...
(Excerpt) Read more at ncregister.com ...
I like the part about how the abuses suddenly and quietly stopped once the new, younger, pastor was appointed.
This is happening so much in the Baltimore area as many priests are “retiring” or going off on unplanned “retreats” only to return with a new sense of direction.
Its slow, its quiet, its behind the scenes, but slowly the liberal dinosaurs are being defeated.
At my parish, the singing of the Lamb of God is hardly recognizable, and can’t be followed by the congregation. They add in at least 3 or 4 other stanzas that do not belong.
Not to mention how people dress for Mass, and the Churches do nothing about it. Then there is the vigil Mass, which is mostly attended by the elderly, who have long, loud conversations before Mass as they socialize with each other.
Fortunately, there is a Parish 15 minutes from my house that has the traditional Latin Mass. I attend that Mass as many times as I can, and feel so much better for it.
I sit in the second pew on the left, and yes, I, too, am a Mrs. McGillicuddy.
LOL!
Holy Spirit — lead the way!
I guess I am a Mrs. McGillicuddy on FR too.
**Its slow, its quiet, its behind the scenes, but slowly the liberal dinosaurs are being defeated.**
Yes, but it is happening all over!
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