Plep makes a habit of finding treasures. Here's one from Georgetown University.

The American Mission: Maryland Jesuits From Andrew White to John Carroll

In the fall of 1976, the Special Collections Division produced this major exhibition as a feature of the University's celebration of the bicentenary of the American Revolution. The emergence of the internet now permits us to share again the riches of our origins.

The story of the Jesuits of English-speaking America is largely forgotten. They came to Maryland only shortly after their better-known brothers reached Canada and more than fifty years before Eusebio Kino travelled north to California. But they had no romance. The dreams of a new Christian empire, of a European system translated whole onto the American wilderness, were not theirs, nor did they find the heroic martyrdoms of an Isaac Jogues or a Jean de Brébeuf. In their day they published no annual letters, and no historian since has imparted to their story the epic vigor with which Francis Parkman chronicled the Canadian Jesuits.

Yet this small group of men laid stronger foundations for Catholicism in America than did the Spanish in California or the French in Canada. This exhibit, by recapturing some of that forgotten history, offers a glimpse of the world of those gentlemen of Maryland who, but for a few Franciscans, were the whole of the Catholic Church in British North America. British in culture themselves, they made it possible for the Irish and later Catholic immigrants to adopt the Anglo-American culture without leaving their faith. John Carroll, the first national leader of the Church in America, emerged from this group and helped shape its evolution in the early national period.

The Mystery of the Eucharist is too great for anyone to permit himself to treat it according to his own whim, so that its sacredness and its universal ordering would be obscured.

Needed and welcome, it was good to hear Francis Cardinal Arinze present Redemptionis Sacramentum, the Vatican instruction on the Eucharist. And there was a fitting chronological coincidence when, in addition to the presentation of the norms and instruction, Cardinal Arinze, no novice in speaking truth to power, also defended the right of the Church to define the discipline of those who claim membership and communion with her.

Not infrequently, abuses are rooted in a false understanding of liberty. Yet God has not granted us in Christ an illusory liberty by which we may do what we wish, but a liberty by which we may do that which is fitting and right.

On the same date in 1073, Hildebrand of Tuscany became Pope as Gregory VII. His reign was marked by extraordinary efforts of reform and strong defense of the rights of the Church against the power of the Emperor. Dilexi justitiam, et odi iniquitatem, propterea morior in exilio, he murmured as he lay dying in Salerno. I have loved justice, and have hated iniquity. Therefore I die in exile. Exile, though, only to the limits that Caesar was able to enforce and, even in exile, still pilgrim, still faithful. And welcome in the house of his Father.

The last week has brought a succession of warm days to Philadelphia and I took advantage of the bright sunshine and warmth of Monday to travel by train the sixty miles to Atlantic City. The train clings to the side of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge hundreds of feet above the Delaware River as the trip starts and it makes good time passing through historic towns like Camden and Haddonfield and moving at speed across the level fields of New Jersey, through acres of scrub pine in soil getting sandier by the mile. The day was so warm that it was a surprise at last to see the marsh grasses still in winter browns and greys.

There was a chill in the sea air despite the sun, but walking on the shore was a treat, picking up pebbles and watching the swells and breakers. There's been a lot of beach restoration over the winter and protective dune-building on such a scale that the ocean isn't visible from some sections of the boardwalk that runs the length of the city. Well-designed boardwalks are good and easy underfoot, and the boardwalk in Atlantic City is certainly that. But it's best to look only eastward, sandward, oceanward. On the other hand is the culture of the casinos, and the trinket shops and palm readers that cluster near them. Donald Trump's name is on three of the casinos, including Trump Taj Mahal, an almost inconceivably vulgar building, at the same time garish and tawdry.

I don't know whether gambling on chance is intrinsically vicious or can be pursued without guilt, but it's certainly true that the Enemy has throughout history made destructive use of the activity and its environment. It's not one of my particular temptations, so it's best that I avoid any inclination to see it as especially blameworthy. And on aesthetic grounds alone it's objectionable. I walked through another of the Trump buildings, seeing the dazed and almost slack-jawed heavily represented among those sitting round-shouldered before their slot machines. The machines are of many different kinds, recalling Dryden's line about all the sad variety of hell.

Returning to fresh air came as a relief, and I spent a few minutes in the stone colonnade of the memorial to John F. Kennedy, dedicated forty years ago when the Democratic Party held its convention in the city the summer after the assassination of the president. Ask not what your country can do for you ... is there, with a bronze head and shoulders in relief. EvAngelos Frudakis hadn't yet reached his full powers as a sculptor, but there's something here that hints of the nobility and power of his later work, The Minuteman in Arlington, e.g., symbol of the National Guard, and The Signer at Independence Hall in Philadelphia.

A good and fruitful afternoon, warm and pleasant, worth the trip. And, after more walking and ocean-gazing, a highlight. I'd never seen New Jersey's Korean War Memorial and I came upon it almost without warning, a few steps down from the boardwalk at Park Place. The memorial is oriented away from the boardwalk and toward Brighton Park, a wise decision on siting, giving a sense of quiet and repose, an opportunity for thought and gratitude. There are panels dedicated to each of New Jersey's four Medal of Honor recipients from that war and there are sculptures of soldiers with the signature of pain and loss, of duty and weariness, on their faces. The sculptures of Thomas Jay Warren are bronze, traditional, heroic, moving. The epigraph is from Robert Pinsky:

less eager than willing, more dutiful than brave,
brave when required, Democracy's children, they gave
their service far from home, and saw they came
as victors, not conquerors, in freedom's name.

[D]ying as he did die, by the red hand of violence, killed, assassinated, taken off without warning, not because of personal hate . . . but because of his fidelity to union and liberty, he is doubly dear to us, and his memory will be precious forever.

--- Frederick Douglass, in the oration delivered at the unveiling of the Lincoln monument, Lincoln Park, Washington, D.C., April 14, 1876. The dedication of the monument took place on the eleventh anniversary of the shooting of President Lincoln at Ford's Theatre on Good Friday in 1865.

That religion or the duty which we owe to our Creator, and the manner of discharging it, can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence; and, therefore, all men are equally entitled to the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience; and that it is the mutual duty of all to practice Christian forbearance, love, and charity towards each other.

Today is the anniversary of the birth of Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) and alumni of his "academical village" at the University of Virginia honor the memory of the Founder by volunteering their time and service in some charitable endeavor. Many thousands of those alumni Cavaliers all over the world are engaged in such commemoration of Mr. Jefferson during this week.

We are an Easter people and our song is alleluia. --- Saint Augustine


May this day of His triumph, and of our liberation, be one of richness and deep fulfillment for all who read here and may it begin a year of peace and comfort in the love of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Now we will play something we have never played before. I didn't mean that. Mahler wrote it as the 3rd Movement of his 4th Symphony. I mean the 4th Movement of his 1st Symphony -- we play it third. The trumpet solo will be played by our solo trumpet player. It's named "Blumine" -- which has something to do with flowers.

Paulo linked to a more extensive collection of some fractured comments from the tongue of Eugene Ormandy. I've a lot of happy memories of the Philadelphia Orchestra under his artistic direction, but this collection suggests that a conversation between Ormandy and Samuel Goldwyn would also have been worth the price of admission.

William? You're going to call him William? What kind of a name is that? Every Tom, Dick and Harry is called William.