Quaeritur: Can the saturno be worn with a black suit, or only with a cassock?
Dicendum: Indeed it may, Fr Vincent Fitzpatrick, and Deaconette thanks Your Reverend Fatherhood for the absurdity of your delicious question. A saturno is actually proper to a black suit rather than to a cassock. There are some caveats, however, to be observed.
Quaeritur: Would we Latins be out of line in mocking our Eastern Catholic or Orthodox brothers [for their ridiculous headgear]?
Dicendum: Thank you for the question, 4P. Could there be any invented ecclesiastical role in all of Christendom more undignified than actually having to wear one of those silly hats? As unlikely as it seems, there is indeed. Behold the 4M:
The holiday season or sure, call it Advent, makes Deaconette’s life increasingly busy, and she finds herself with less time with which to address the unabating quotidian outrages from the parishioners at St. Upid Traddy Catholic Community. She will thus make this entry short and sweet, like herself.
Carpe diem! Carpe capulus! Carpe eos cessoribus!
Deaconette was troubled by the Pleonasmic Porcelain-Peddling Priest‘s choice to co-opt the now President-elect’s campaign materials for some advocacy of his own. She wasn’t a fan of Mr Trump’s hostile and often deeply sinful behavior as he barnstormed the country in search of racists who vote. (She wasn’t a fan of his opponent, either, on the basis of her stated policies.) She doesn’t think the clergy should be directing the faithful toward any particular office-seeker but instead instructing them in values and principles with which to make their own well-informed moral choices. But it’s a free country, for now anyway, and the 4P can say what he’d like. Just because one can, though, does not mean that one should.
Still, there was something else subliminally incorrect about the mug design that seemed to whisper an objection into Deaconette’s ear without ever checking if she was wearing her hearing aid.
Deaconette does give a rat’s ass, but a whole rat is asking too much.
Deaconette can’t seem to remember where her box of rodent hindquarters is, which is a dang old shame because she intended to donate it to anyone asking about blue vestments.
Less short answer:
Ex Unum Pluribus
Until the time Pope Benedict XVI was born, which is to say the Council of Trent, liturgical colors in the Western church followed local custom. Up to the fourth century, to the extent there even were vestments instead of people gathering in what they called “clothes,” it’s thought that they were usually white, a color associated with Roman citizenship. In Rome throughout most of Catholic history there were three liturgical colors, namely white, red, and black.
In the sad, little dark corner of the breakout room, near the handout and collaterals table and up against the folding partition wall Where a Drifter Traddy Priest Recalcitrantly Sequesters while the rest of us get on with the real work of Christianity, there’s yet more whining and bitterness going on about Pope Francis’ initiatives. It seems the Holy Father commissioned a study on the history of the female diaconate just so the investigators could chat about the great pastry tray (they’re not as good at the Marriott as they used to be back in the good old days) and sharpie their names on stick-on badges before the ice-breaking session. Which, it is imagined, is followed by lunch and a team building exercise, cookie break, meditation in the Papal gardens and daily Mass before the various cliques decide where to get dinner together because that’s not included in the registration fee. There won’t be enough time to discuss deaconesses (or “deacons,” which is so much easier to say) because of the vicious circle of time-wasting a symposium involves. The doomed study of the female diaconate is going nowhere.
Deaconette has seen this silly line of reasoning before.
From a non-reader…
Quaeritur: I’ll be deployed overseas this Thanksgiving Friday. I belong to a personal parish (FSSP) in a regular geographic diocese back home, but deployed I fall under the Archdiocese of Military ervices [sic]. Does the Pope Pius XII Thanksgiving Friday indult apply to me, despite my not being in the United States?
This morning, as Deaconette ate her breakfast of Anacin and leftover Chardonnay, she found a note from one of our number who asked her what can be done about “cheering up my crappy post-election days? Very crappy. Some of the most crappy evah, as a matta fact.”
Deaconette has likewise been in one of her more splenetic moods since election night. You see, she celebrated by having several of her sisters in this earthly struggle into the chapterhouse to watch a woman become President-elect for the first time, just a mere 96 years after women gained the right to vote. Confident in this endeavor due to the repeated and insistent assurances of several well-known pollsters, she lavished her guests with pizzas of many toppings and wine that even came from a bottle instead of a box.
…and we go live now to where tonight’s winner in this historic race, Whig candidate and now President-elect Millard Fillmore’s Corpse, is now taking the stage:
Deaconette understands that many of her gentle readers are faced with a dilemma in tomorrow’s U.S. Presidential Election. The major party candidates are wildly unpopular, and neither is in ideal comity with important Catholic teachings and doctrines. And we’re not getting much direction from Pope Francis, who when posed this exact comparison only validated the difficulty and seemed to be suggesting that informed Catholics may as well just flip a coin.