SO WHY IS THERE A FUSS ABOUT A DE-CONSECRATED ALTAR IN A BAR-RESTAURANT IN MARYLAND; ALLEGED NEWS?

 

Freepik

SO WHY IS THERE A FUSS ABOUT A DE-CONSECRATED ALTAR IN A BAR-RESTAURANT IN MARRIOTT VISITATION HOTEL IN MARYLAND; ALLEGED NEWS? The High Altar serves as backdrop and shelving for liquor bottles; Alleged News. [1] Liquor thus would appear to be served for financial gain in front of a sacred altar which was used to celebrate Holy Mass.

The chapel was de-consecrated in December 2024, Alleged News. [1] Yet in the minds and hearts of the faithful, the chapel remains the sacred remembrance-site of many holy Masses. Moreover, the altar continues as architectural spiritual symbol of the Body of Christ. 

The altar is the Alter Christus

Spiritually, the altar is considered the Alter Christus. As children, many of us were taught the long-standing theological maxim that Christ is the Eternal High Priest, the Sacrificial Victim [2] and the Altar of His own self-sacrificial offering. 

The Redeemer is the Priest, because He is the One Who offers. He is the Victim, because He simultaneously is the One offered. Christ's Body is also the very place of this sacrificial offering in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and so follows another traditional saying, "the altar is Christ."

The altar is Christ

Jesus is symbolised as the altar, the place of sacrifice. In Him we are able to approach the Presence of God to offer our own sacrifices through Jesus to the Father. 

"Those who desired to offer sacrifices to God, had to do so necessarily through an altar. But Christ, the Victim of Salvation, approached to God through Himself. Hence, He was also the altar of His own sacrifice. For us too, in like manner, He is the altar of every one of our sacrifices, for we can bring no offering to God except through Christ."  Maurice de la Taille, S.J. [3] 

Altar is Christ rendered in architectonic form

Since the liturgy is Christ's action expressed in the symbol system of the rite, the altar is Christ rendered in architectonic form which rightly takes on the attributes of Christ Himself. [4]

Christian Altar is the symbol of Christ Himself (CCC)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church states that the "Christian altar is the symbol of Christ Himself, present in the midst of the assembly of His faithful." (CCC 1383) 

St Ambrose asked, "For what is the altar of Christ if not the image of the Body of Christ?" The saint asks elsewhere, "The altar represents the Body [of Christ] and the Body of Christ is on the altar." (CCC 1383) 

The sacred altar

The altar is not a remote and isolated image of Christ, but one standing in the midst of His people. For this reason the altar is given the most prominent location in a church, occupying a place which is the centre toward which the attention of the whole congregation of the faithful naturally turns. 

Christ's eternity and never-ending commitment

For similar reasons, the Church's legislation strongly encourages that altars be fixed to the floor to indicate Christ's eternity and never-ending commitment to His people.

Christ is the rock and cornerstone

Further, at least its mensa (top surface of the altar) is to be made of stone, echoing the scriptures which repeatedly call Christ a rock and cornerstone (1 Pt 2:4, 1 Cor 10:4, Eph 2:20). Stone is meant to indicate Christ's strength and permanence. 

Christ is the living Altar in the Heavenly Temple

An altar, then, gives a foretaste of the table of Heaven because Christ is "the living Altar in the Heavenly Temple," [5] Who "serves the Heavenly meal." [6] Many Christians revere the sacred symbol of the altar as a symbol for Christ's Body.

The altar now hosting liquor for a bar

Many feel distress regarding the altar being used as shelving for liquor in a bar-restaurant in Maryland; Alleged News. [1]

Further option

Would the restaurant-bar consider the option of making a small chapel around the altar? This would offer the option of a sacred space for spiritual prayer. The altar thus could continue in a setting suitable for such a spiritual gem.

Petition to ask for relocation of the bar

There is a petition to ask for relocation of the bar from the High Altar to another area of the hotel. 

WHY NOT SIGN THE PETITION?

https://americaneedsfatima.org/petitions/marriott-visitation-hotel-hosts-liquor-bar-in-former-chapel-petition-ee25602

                                           https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QslmNU8iwQ

[1] America Needs Fatima. Marriott 'Visitation Hotel'  hosts liquor bar in former Chapel; Alleged News

https://americaneedsfatima.org/petitions/marriott-visitation-hotel-hosts-liquor-bar-in-former-chapel-petition-ee25602

[2] John 1:29 and Hebrews 4:14-5:10; 9:23-10:18

[3] St Joseph Parishioner. Jesus Christ: Priest, Sacrifice (Victim), Temple and Altar. 2024

https://www.saintjoseph.ca/blog/jesus-christ-priest-sacrifice-victim-temple-and-altar/

[4] Denis R. McNamara. Altar as Alter Christus: Ontology and Sacramentality 

https://adoremus.org/2016/06/altar-alter-christus-ontology-sacramentality/

[5] RCDA, "The Order of Dedication of An Altar," 1.

[6] RDCA, Decree

With thanks to americaneedsfatima.org, saintjoseph.ca, adoremus.org, RDCA, and youtube

Image courtesy of Freepik AI generated content with CN Whittle

EVERY MINER'S LIFE TELLS A STORY

 

Catherine Nicolette:

MY MINER FATHER was once trapped underground for thirty-six hours. As his daughter, I know the agonies a family goes through awaiting the return of the loved one. As well as the uncertainty of knowing whether your beloved Dad will return as breadwinner or - as other miners did - in a body bag.

As I watched the billowing smoke from the mining shaft roll in darkened clouds into the skyline from underground fires, casting a pall of dark smoke as day shifted to night, I prayed with every fibre of my being for my Dad to be returned to us alive.

He was. Not all were.

Stilfontein

Against this background, my heart was so sad when I heard of the deaths of miners at Stilfontein. 

Pathos

The pathos of body bags being lifted to the surface from mine shafts as well as the plight of emaciated miners stumbling to the surface led me to realize that each miner is a child of God.

Unemployment

Every life tells a story. Every plight which arises from unemployment tells a tale. The saddest of all are the stories of bodies underground, burial areas under the surface.

Rest in the Arms of God

May all who have died in the depths of the earth rest in the Arms of God. Let us remember all who struggle to earn a living and sacrifice their lives and safety to ensure shelter and sustenance for their loved ones. 

And may all of us who have benefited from the use of gold, gems and minerals, pause in silence in remembrance of those who mined them.

BLESSED BE JESUS IN THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT OF THE ALTAR

                                                 Priestly ordination - in persona Christi 

                                                                         Freepik

So: I am intrigued. A church in Lucerne has apparently introduced a hologram of Jesus as a practical decision reportedly meant to encourage moments of intimacy with the hologram. This means - if I understand correctly - that people can interact in a confessional with an artificial intelligence program meant to imitate Christ. [1]

Hologram of Jesus

Reportedly installed in one of the parish confessionals, people can interact with the hologram representation of Jesus which, according to one user account, addresses users with "Peace be with you, brother" regardless of the gender of the person, and encourages them to discuss "whatever is troubling your heart today," alleged news. [1]

Sacrament of confession

I am all for evangelizing the wonderful truth that Jesus is the Son of God. Yet is it possible that the sacrament of confession - a sacred moment of truth, repentance and revelation between the penitent and God Himself, with priest as anointed intermediary - may be adversely affected by hologram project with no seal of the confessional protecting the visitor? 

Addressed as brother - the feminine view

It is possible that women who are proud of their God-given womanhood may find it slightly startling to be addressed as brother. As a little girl, I sat through church services where all prayed for mankind. I asked my mom why only men were prayed for, she answered that mankind meant both men and women. As a little four-year-old with a mind of my own, I wasn't buying it. 

As catechetics teacher in later years, I found some young girls confused as to why men were prayed for, and girls excluded. They also argued that the word mankind did not automatically include women. Sympathetic to their confusion - which exactly mirrored my own as a younger congregant - I used the word humankind. Thereafter, everyone was happy. 

Robots

It was so interesting to hear of a current theory that the priesthood should possibly be reimagined to consider robots instead of, or alongside, priests. Different spiritual traditions are making use of robots within spiritual contexts. Apparently a robot in one instance recites blessings in a number of languages.

AI chatbot "cleric"

Well now. Where to from here? It is certainly praiseworthy to consider new ways of evangelization in the modern context. However, attempts to introduce artificial intelligence options within spiritual streams has encountered heavy waters. An AI chatbot "Father" launched online apparently failed within two days. alleged news. [2]

Christ waits patiently in tabernacles

We have the true Presence of Our Lord Jesus Christ waiting patiently in church tabernacles throughout the world. He constantly awaits our footsteps. The tabernacle is a reserved place in the church where the Eucharist is kept. 

In the tabernacle, Christ is in the Eucharist which remains after the celebration of the Mass. The Saviour - fully present in transubstantiated bread within the tabernacle - speaks to all who come before Him, within their souls. 

Encourage confession and visit Jesus 

Let us encourage those in need to attend the Sacrament of Confession, to experience the overwhelming sense of relief that the lifting of a burden brings through the absolution of a priest.

To me, it seems a little sad that those desperately in need of true comfort from the Way, the Truth and Life would need to walk past the True Presence of Christ in the Blessed Tabernacle, to a virtual representation of the Truth in a confessional.

Why don't we encourage those in need of love, counsel, support, guidance, healing of grief and imparting of grace and blessing, to visit Jesus at the Blessed Tabernacle? He always listens, hears and gives answers at the right time.

[1] Swiss church puts 'AI Jesus' in confessional, Alleged News

https://www.pillarcatholic.com/p/swiss-church-puts-ai-jesus-in-confessional

[2] Sergeant, Leah Libresco. 30 April 2024. The defrocking of Father AI, Alleged News

https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2024/04/the-defrocking-of-father-ai

With thanks to pillarcatholic.com, firtstthings.com and catholic-catechism.com

Image with thanks to Freepik AI generated content by CN Whittle

A RUBBER CHEQUE CAN SPOIL YOUR MORALE

 

Luky:

AS chief keeper of the family purse during my husband's illness, I had the most humiliating experience - one of my cheques bounced.

If only they had not stamped the cheque "signature reinstated" I would have smelt a rat. As it was I made a fool of myself, asking friends and the bookkeeper at work what it meant.

"It means, my dear," they told me tactfully but firmly, "that there is not enough money in your account to cover the amount on the cheque."

I felt so humiliated. And it was the last straw that broke this camel's back. I had managed to control my emotions throughout my husband's severe illness. Yet the night after my cheque came back, I had a good howl.

How it happened

Next morning I went to the bank and soon discovered that in my agitation I had paid into my husband's account a cheque made out to me, and that instead of putting his initials on the deposit slip, I had entered my own. So my own cheque had lain there among their queries while I was sending out worthless pieces of paper.

"If you tell those people to phone me", the lady at the bank said, "I'll explain to them what happened."

"Skip it" I replied, "I cabled the money to them earlier this morning. But since I do have a savings account, I can't understand why you allowed the cheque to bounce."

Four out of five

"Because it was one of five you sent out on the same day", she explained patiently. "We honoured the other four, even though your current account appeared to be overdrawn."

Well, that's something else I've learned. However, I've refused to make out another cheque ever since. My husband was unbearably paternalistic about the whole thing.

"You see Ma, I always tell you I've got more common sense than you have", he repeated. "Leave all these little financial matters in Daddy's hands, that's the best thing to do."

Good record

Though fulminating inwardly, I had to admit none of his cheques ever bounced.

And yet there's a lesson to be learnt from the cheque episode. All my life I felt superior to people who have rats in the roof, nits in their hair, fish moths in the curtains, whose cheques bounce and who are summoned for debt by lawyers. 

And what happened to me? All right, I never was summoned for debt, but I bounced the cheque.

All are vulnerable

God has shown me, sometimes in a manner which I found hurtful and humiliating to my vanity, that these things can happen to anyone and that you don't have to be shiftless and irresponsible to be the author of a dishonoured cheque.

In fact, I have developed a rather soft spot for the latter kind of person.

"Look at this pile of bouncing cheques", someone said to me one day, holding out a sheaf of them. "Honestly, some people!"

"If you are referring to the people whose cheques bounce, you will kindly do so with respect in my hearing," I replied loftily, "since I became a member of their brotherhood."

Catherine Nicolette:

Oboy. The fraternity or sorority of the financially embarrassed. I would love to disclaim knowledge of the shame of the shuffling queue at the bank to confess financial impecunity, but no. Honesty prevails. I was at the head of the queue at times.

You see, it's like this. As pastor and supporter of charity, outgoings sometimes overtake your incomings. In the words of the immortal Micawber, "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen, nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery."

Sometimes weekly income is dodgy or nil due to ill health or unemployment, and weekly expenditure borrowed or over-drafted. Result embarrassment and awkward questions at the bank.

In younger days I was delighted to discover what an overdraft was. I was not so delighted when I ran into deep financial shoals. I remember coming in to the bank yet again to ask for financial guidance. When I spoke to the lady at the bank, I began, "I am having financial problems ..." and she said, "what's new?"

I felt mortified. When I returned home, I sat down and drew up a list of financial resolutions. They ran something like this: 

"1. If I do not have the finances, I will not buy the item

2. If there is a sale, I will avert my eyes and keep on walking

3. If I need expensive equipment, I will save up for it

4. I will recycle

5. I will re-use

6. I will visit charity shops and buy pre-loved items

7. I will give items I no longer need to charity shops so they can sell them to others who are in need of them

8. I will buy house cleaning materials and toiletries in cheap bulk, and decant them into recycled cleaned containers

9. I will buy mainly fruit and vegetables for my diet - a cheap and sustaining menu."

The list was successful, to the point that sometimes I am told I seem stingy. A refreshing appellation in place of those which landed me in the queue of need at the bank.

I am still not rich. But respect for the Micawber Principle has inspired me towards more stability on the rickety highway of finance.

Image with thanks to free clipart library

COFFEE BREAK ISSUE ONE - THE BLOG OF MOTHER AND DAUGHTER LUKY AND CATHERINE NICOLETTE

Welcome to Coffee Break, the blog of mother and daughter Luky Whittle and Catherine Nicolette Whittle.

Together we will tell you about life in the family lane over the past 50 years, together with snippets of interest such as photographs, articles, books, and family happenings which have been a rich source of amusement to us both over our years together.

So sit down, take up a cup of steaming coffee, open your laptop and enjoy!  

Coffee Break is followed by 144 countries

Please enjoy this Coffee Break Issue One

COFFEE BREAK ISSUE ONE 

ARTICLES

How Coffee Break began

Finding the baby

Happy New Year

Love and loss

I remember Papa

Fascinating Maud Gonne

Zoute drop with Irish stew

Mary, Joseph and the humble stable

Miss Marks' last day at the office

An open hand is never empty

My teenage dreams

Download your issue at the following link

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1BOy6qrfBhkj6hwarc3PXceheHfu1x009/view?usp=drive_link

Image with thanks to Canva

A SIGN OF HOPE - THE MIRACULOUS MEDAL

 

Miraculous medal, front and back

Luky:

THE SEVENTH of November has always been a red letter day in my life, as it marks the birthday of a near and dear one. When she was small she'd be counting the weeks and days leading up to it for months, giving us no chance to forget it.

One year's birthday was probably a lot different. As mother (at the time) of two and expecting her third child in another six months' time, she had enough to occupy her mind.

All the same, I phoned her that morning and she enthused about the lovely gifts her husband had brought her.

Unsuspecting

I on my side had good news too. My own husband, having successfully got over his operation, was coming home the next morning. We mutually expressed our pleasure and rang off.

Little did I know then that I was about to remember November the 7th for quite a different reason.

Just before ten that morning one of the matrons of the local hospital telephoned me. My husband was back in the intensive care unit of the surgical ward, she said, and she was sure I'd be wanting to see him to encourage him as soon as I could.

A nod is as good as a kick to a willing horse, so I went to my boss and got permission to go to the hospital.

Plugged in

Having arrived there I found my husband lying on a bed, tubes and bottles attached to several parts of his body. He was barely able to speak but the matron had explained to me that he had either got a clot in the lung, known a a pulmonary embolism, or in the heart; called a coronary thrombosis.

He had complained of a very severe pain across his chest. "I've nursed Mr Whittle for years", the matron said, "and I know him well enough to be aware that by the time he finally complains there is something seriously wrong."

Strong friend

I can't tell you how kind everyone was. As parents of one of the hospital's student nurses at the time, we received VIP treatment.

My old neighbour grabbed me as I was leaving the hospital on my way to I know not where and steered me back to the ward. She's a nursing sister and midwife and was a tower of strength to me in the eight years we lived next door to each other. It was like living next door to my doctor.

Complicated prang

When I pranged my car that morning, trying to get out of a parking place, three men helped to liberate me. If you gave me five thousand rand to repeat what I must have done to steer my car into such a position, I'd have to decline because I just don't understand how I managed it.

Please pray

Early next morning I telephoned my sister. My husband was on the critical list and my brother-in-law came to the phone and asked what he could do.

"Take all your children to church now on their way to school and have them pray a Hail Mary for their uncle", I pleaded.

He did that and more. That afternoon as I arrived again at the hospital, he was sitting outside my husband's ward. He had taken the day off and spent four hours driving my mother and sister to see me. I've always thought that man was a jewel; now I have proof.

My mother stayed and looked after the children for the next few days, much of which I spent as hospital.

It's good to have a family.

More to come

A second clot was to pass through my husband's lung before his agony was over. I received a letter from my colleagues at the office; all of them had gone into one office and prayed together for my husband's recovery. Everybody was praying, especially the lady who worked for us. 

"I was so scared Mr Whittle was dying", she said.

The younger children, aware of the tension, became unbearable, looking for attention, arguing and quarrelling and crying hysterically over nothing.

Interesting incident

The day I knew things would improve I was seated in a little room outside the intensive care unit, talking to my daughter. I had been given permission to look in at my husband on the half-hour.

She had taken off her miraculous medal and handed it to me to put round her father's neck.

We were talking and I was gesticulating with the hand which held the medal. Suddenly I looked down on my knee, and there to my astonishment I found that the chain had arranged itself into the shape of that peculiar broad flat "M" on the back of the miraculous medal.

People have laughed at my assertions of miracles all my life so I said nothing about it. I wanted to make sure I wasn't mistaken.

'That's odd", I said to my daughter, "What does this remind you of?"

"The M on the back of the miraculous medal", she said. "And look next to it, that's a heart shape, also found on the back of the medal."

"Your father will be all right now", I said after marvelling for a little while, and handed her back her chain. "He won't need this."

I went into the ward and spoke to the heart specialist.

"Your husband is improving", he informed me, "though he's not out of danger yet."

It was all I could do not to tell him he was wrong. With such a powerful patroness as our Lady showing her very personal concern, I knew that no power on earth could prevent my husband from recovering.

Catherine Nicolette

Dad went on to make an uneventful recovery - an amazing turnaround as he had been critically ill. I have great devotion to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal and both Mom and I received much comfort from the configuration of the chain. Do I believe this was a sign from God? The comfort I received when I saw the symbols of holiness was deep. In that moment I knew: all will be well.

Having been witness to many signs and wonders from God throughout my life, I would encourage you to look out in your own life for those moments in which God is present with comfort and hope.

The Miraculous Medal is a holy devotion which brings special spiritual protection and comfort. Why not find out more?

https://youtu.be/C2pF5XhNSJk

Visit for petition to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal

at https://lumierecharitymarian.blogspot.com/2017/08/petition-to-our-lady-of-miraculous-medal.html

MIRACLES HAPPEN ALL THE TIME

 

Luky:

There was a song we used to sing in church when my eldest daughter played the organ. Our best singer would sing each verse, and we'd all join the refrain:

"I believe in miracles; I've seen a soul set free / Miraculous the change in one redeemed through Calvary / I've seen the lily push its way up through the stubborn sod / I believe in miracles, for I believe in God. "

Do you believe in miracles? I do. Plenty have happened to me in my life.

I was there

The big ones I don't talk about much, because people always get an odd little smile on their faces when I do, as if to say "poor fanatic - and you can see she actually believes it. "

Well, I do, because I was there when they happened. And it's those who believe in miracles that they do happen to.

If you truly believe that a piece of bread and a drop of wine change into the Body and Blood of Christ when the words of consecration are spoken by an ordained priest, then the little miracles that have happened to me are puddysticks by comparison. But, being human, I love my little miracles and get much comfort from remembering them.

Lord said it

At one time I was praying in a certain way, and got the feeling that I was unworthy to pray that way because of my sinfulness. That very day I opened a dusty volume of an old Dutch series of books about our Lord's revelations to Saint Gertrude.

Sweet memory

My eye fell on a paragraph which quotes our Lord as saying to the saint: "why do you feel reluctant and unworthy to pray to me (in the way I was praying)? Do you not know that the fragrance of the perfume is not impaired by the simplicity of the container?"

That day sweetness filled my heart and mind, and the memory of it still fills me with joy.

In a smaller way, something strange happened some years ago. I was having an argument with one of my children (that's not strange; it's normal.)

The child had mowed the lawn and tidied the garden, and was demanding payment. I felt as though I had failed in bringing up my children.

I said, "How can you, as a Christian, demand payment from your parents for lending a hand? If you need money, tell me how much and I'll make a plan. But surely you don't expect payment for helping your hard-working parents?"

Got soft

Well, my child gave as good as he got. Gone are the old days when I was strict and they would have run a mile before they dared to answer me back - I became soft in my old age.

Just then a song started playing on Springbok Radio. Rooted in my tracks, I listened; then I hauled the child in to listen too.

You may have heard the song. It's about a boy who brought his mother an invoice, detailing various chores he had performed for her and stating what each cost.

The mother produced a pen and wrote out an invoice of her own. "To nine months carrying you in my womb - no charge; to bringing you into the world in sorrow and pain - no charge; to the tears I shed for you - no charge."

Nothing owing

By now I was shedding some tears of my own and ducked into the sitting room, but I could hear the end of the song. The boy wrote at the bottom of his invoice: "Paid in full."

My heart was full, because I felt that again our Lord had performed a little miracle. The child was very quiet too, looking rather taken aback.

I'm no diplomat. I like pressing home my advantage, so I wiped my tears and said:

"I was trying to tell you something in the passage there, but I hadn't the eloquence. So our Lord allowed a small miracle to happen by inspiring the disc jockey to play that very song to show you how He would feel about your demanding payment.

"As a rule, Jesus doesn't go in for performing miracles; He has nothing to prove. So if you're wise, you'll remember this one for the rest of your life"

The child still regarded me mutinously, so I added:

"That piece of advice comes to you at no charge." 

Catherine Nicolette

My, it is many years since I thought of that beautiful hymn we used to play. As a teenager I loved the words and melody.

Now in my mature years, I have experienced many signs and wonders of God in my life. Having travelled in many countries, it has been amazing how God cared for me in many ways, small as well as large.

The greatest miracle, however, is to be part of the wonder when the moment of grace comes for an individual. We never know when one word, one prayer, one sermon or one song is the one which will change the road for another from struggle to the grace of faith.

As Mom said on so many occasions about Jesus Christ, "For one drop of His Blood Which for sinners was spilt,

Is sufficient to cleanse the whole world from its guilt."

The price is already paid, the miracle already granted. Jesus came to earth, lived and died for us and we had to make no payment. The Son of God took the consequences of sin and death upon Himself, conquered death through resurrection and gave us remedy for sin through baptism and sacraments.

We did not have to pay anything in order for God's Son to love us and set us free.

Let us pay Christ the compliment of our deepest love, respect and sincere gratitude for the price He paid.