Observing a year of loss

central portion of monument, now at 10000 Miles Avenue, Cleveland, O.

Marty Haugen wrote a hymn, where the last line of the refrain is, “we remember, we celebrate, we believe”, and we do. Several parishes have had parishioners mark their sad anniversary already. St. Stanislaus, Lorain did publicly. Certainly many people remembered, privately, their year of loss. St. Margaret of Hungary, Orange Village, was suppressed on All Saints last year. On Friday, 29 October, a few parishioners began talking amongst themselves, and on Sunday the eve of the anniversary, seven of them got together at Calvary Cemetery, where the parish's WWII memorial of service dead had been translated to [they had fought the chancery to save it from being dismembered and sold off piece by piece]. They said a few prayers, and asked God to continue helping them in their quest to retain as much of St. Margaret's as they possibly can. They decided that they needed to have something 'official' next year to mark the day. It was modest. It was a christian witness.

The awful election day that came on All Souls, Orange Village voted 1013 to 545 to buy the church property, which is adjacent to the Village Hall. More coins to the chancery.

But things are happening at Cathedral Square. The man in charge of money, Maimone, has left his job. The officer of parish dismemberment, Armstrong (known to some as "Chippie") has left, and is working in marketing for Metro Health (formerly City Hospital). Rodents are removing themselves from the episcopal barge.

Maxwell Anderson wrote the lyrics for a Kurt Weill tune in Knickerbocker Holiday. Frank Sinatra cut the song on a 78.

...But the days grow short when you reach September
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
One hasn't got time for the waiting game
Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November

Saint Casimir will be having an observation of their one year eviction, this Sunday the 7th of November on the street, in exile, before their confiscated and closed church.

They can remember the words of the Psalmist:

Upon the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept: when we remembered Sion: On the willows in the midst thereof we hung up our instruments. For there they that led us into captivity required of us the words of songs. And they that carried us away, said: Sing to us a hymn of the songs of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten. Let my tongue cleave to my jaws, if I do not remember you: If I make not Jerusalem the beginning of my joy. — 137 (136) Super flumina Babylonis