Zinnia seedlings. I won't bother to thin them. They don't care. They just grow. This 10-gallon grow bag seems to suit them, but then so does just about any other environment. The one thing I've literally never had not grow? Zinnias.
Today is the great solemnity of the Ascension, though of course in our diocese, as in much of the U.S., it's transferred to Sunday. There are parishes here observing the 1962 calendar, but come July they won't be doing that anymore, except clandestinely. Our new bishop, jovial and personable though he is ("Call me Bishop Mike") has unrolled a sweeping program of adherence to Traditionis Custodes that far exceeds the norms set out by that (completely unnecessary and wrongheaded) motu proprio. Not only is the Traditional Latin Mass to be restricted in the Charlotte Diocese --- one chapel, located in Mooresville, will offer it on Sunday and Holy Days of Obligation only --- but priest are forbidden to say Mass with a crucifix on the altar, after the manner of Pope Benedict XVI, and the faithful will no longer be permitted to kneel to receive communion (not sure what happens in churches, such as our own local parish, that have and use altar rails). No Latin Mass parts in any liturgy. At the Chrism Mass this year, we had to sing the Missa de Angelis in English, which was . . . awkward.
I'm not a Latin Massgoer, and would not have considered myself to be especially traddy, but . . . well, thanks, Bishop Mike, our buddy. Way to eviscerate the liturgical life of a thriving diocese. Way to cut our vocations down to some pitiful size, to match the rest of America.
Anyway, yeah, we're angry. We're also glad that at least this bishop has no jurisdiction over the monks of Belmont Abbey, who while not exactly traditionalists at least don't seem to mind if people kneel to receive, or whatever. They seem to feel that the very fact that you're there, receiving Christ in the Eucharist, is enough to render your particular preferences irrelevant. Which is as it should be. You can be too rigid in the traddy direction, micromanaging how people dress, for example (and particularly how women dress). But you can sure be too rigid in the other direction, which has honestly been the prevailing wind across many dioceses in this country. And now we get to be like that. What freaking fun that will be.
So that's been the breaking news this week of the Ascension, and it is depressing. It's enough to make me want to move somewhere else --- though again, being attached to a religious order, even informally, is like an offer of shelter, however temporary. And yet again: I don't attend the Latin Mass, though I don't mind attending the Latin Mass. I've seen enough of homeschooler culture to be a lot less traddy than I was as a new convert, nearly 20 years ago. But I'm also at least intelligent and seasoned enough to recognize a bad pastoral move when I see one: a move that will alienate at least two generations of priests in this diocese, as well as a good proportion of the faithful. There are parishes in which this won't make a difference at all. But there are parishes where it will. And not only the priests but the people will feel it deeply.
And it seems to me that the only people who will be really happy about these reforms are people old enough to remember 1970 and to have been glad, or at least intrigued by the novelty, when the priest suddenly stood behind the altar and grinned out at everybody, instead of facing God. I know enough to know that Vatican II answered some real problems, and that its proposed reforms were good ones. The Church prior to 1965 was not perfect. The Second Vatican Council didn't end some golden age of Catholicism in America or elsewhere. But what happened in 1970, and what's happening now, expressly violated, and violates, the liturgical norms set out by that council, which did not intend to sweep an entire tradition under the rug --- or to pull the rug of tradition out from under the feet of Catholics worldwide, whether they wanted it pulled out or not.
I'm also perplexed by the fact that you can have a Mass in any language in the world --- we went to an English Mass a few weeks back in a parish that offers not only Spanish, but also Portuguese, Congolese French, and Vietnamese Masses . . . at least --- but you can't have a Mass in Latin. You can't even sing Mass parts in Latin. You can't even have those few words that every Catholic on the globe is likely to recognize and know, whatever their mother tongue. I was glad, going to Mass in Norwegian in Bergen two years ago, that I could at least sing the parts of the Missa de Angelis. That was a congregation made up of immigrants from literally everywhere. To put it bluntly, there was not much very evidently Scandinavian about that congregation. A lot of faces --- mostly faces --- that were colors other than Nordic-colored. A lot of first languages that probably weren't Norwegian. But everybody, no matter where they came from, could sing those Mass parts.
In other news, we learned at an Easter party a few weeks back that apparently an Ordinariate congregation is being established in --- of all places --- the original chapel at the convent of the Sisters of Mercy in Belmont, across the interstate from the Abbey. This is certainly something I did not have on my bingo card, but it seems providential. I would imagine that in the light of these diocesan reforms, this congregation will quickly outgrow the Sisters' chapel (which they don't use, despite not having outgrown it --- they have Mass in some kind of recreation room that doesn't look remotely like a church, which seems to be, maybe, why they like it). If I weren't attached to the monks, I'd be likely to migrate there, even though I've never felt much attraction to the Ordinariate (we've DONE Anglicanism, thank you). But it would be a way to come under the auspices of a bishop who is not my big cuddly authoritarian buddy in the diocesan office in Charlotte.
ETA: Updates yesterday from The Pillar, correcting some details of what I've said here (though not the substance of the proposed wave of change). This is obviously a volatile and shifting situation.
Enough about that. The more I think about it all, the angrier I become, but until I can think of something to do, just being angry isn't particularly productive. And in the meantime, I have an agenda for the day. It's the same agenda I pretty much always have, but it is an agenda, and sometimes agendas are lifesaving. They keep you from stewing in your anger until it poisons you --- you simply have to think about something else.
WEARING TODAY (because life goes on, and Jesus Christ, the risen and ascended Lord, is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, no matter what his personnel might decide to do with their moment in time):
*Devold merino base-layer tee, bought in Norway summer 2024. Neck and sleeves cut out by me to make it more feminine. First year of wear.
*New York Company linen/linen-blend skirt, bought January 2023, year 3 of wear
*Thrifted Crocs, year 2 of wear
Thought I'd settle my indecision about what dress to wear by not wearing a dress at all. I did say that I wanted to wear this skirt more often, and this remains as true today as when I said it, all of several weeks ago. I like that this skirt gives me a chance to wear a number of my tops that otherwise might sit neglected. There's something about it that works pretty neatly with drapey knits like this tee --- the skirt itself, though it has a lot of drape and flow, isn't a knit but has more structure. The drawstring waist stays in place, which keeps my shirt in place. The length is good for the Rule of Thirds --- in this outfit, I have 2/3 of the outfit on the bottom, 1/3 on the top, which is a nice proportion.
The weather is still pretty dreary, though warmer today, and I'm glad to be wearing some cheerful, vivid colors. This is about as bright as it gets for me, but sometimes I really want to go right to the brightness edge.
I might or might not change to go out tonight. This outfit is striking me as fun and casual-night-out appropriate. I could wear my jean jacket and feel sharp. But we'll see how I feel when the time comes. In the meantime, I need to walk the dog.
AFTERNOON UPDATE
Working on Coleridge for next week, catching up with a guest contributor who needs to send me something for the Substack, and coming down off my peak of anger over diocesan stuff. The pastor in our local parish (appointed last year) has issued a statement to the parish noting that none of the leaked matter, concerning further restrictions on priests and the faithful, has been sent as a directive to pastors at this time, so nothing will change in the parish. This seems sensible and right, and we should all probably calm down. But we should also remain vigilant.
EVENING UPDATE
Finished the upstairs room!
Ope, didn't get the corner with the punching bag, but it is indeed in its designated corner, out of the way yet accessible to anyone who wants to punch a punching bag. The husband bolted together the second bookshelve, and there it is, making a whole console with storage under the windows. I cleaned off, vacuumed, and flipped the futon (which, yes, is too big for the frame --- the futon is a queen, and then we couldn't find a queen-sized frame, so it's squeezed into a full, but there it is). The old table from the punching-bag corner is stowed under the bed in the husband's office. Everything is vacuumed, dusted, and clean. It's a lovely treehouse of an upstairs room, and I might find myself spending time up there --- who knows?
So we did that, and then we went up to Hickory for dinner at the Olde Hickory Station brew pub, a favorite destination. I did not in fact change clothes, just put on a jean jacket and declared myself dressed up.
This all worked pretty well, I thought. Now we're back home and drinking tea in the lamplight with Dora. Out for a walk as soon as it gets dark enough for all the other dogs and people to be inside.