I posted this last year , but it’s so good I wanted to put it up again. A few years ago a friend of mine sent me these lyrics, which can be sung to the tune of “These Are a Few of My Favorite Things.”
Sackcloth and ashes and days without eating,
Mortification and wailing and weeping,
A hair shirt that scratches, a nettle that stings—
These are a few of my favorite things!
Penitence, flagellants, memento mori ,
Spending nights sleeping on rocks in a quarry,
The sound of a cloaked solemn cantor who sings—
These are still more of my favorite things!
Tossing and turning and yearning, I’m spurning!
Passions aflame like an ember-day burning,
Corpus and carnis and wild drunken flings—
Forsaken are they for my favorite things!
When it’s Christmas,
When the tree’s lit,
When the cards are sent . . .
I simply remember my favorite things—
And then I can’t waaaaaaaaait ‘til Lent!
The Possibility of Possibility
"Might could” is a Southern expression meaning “maybe I could” or “I might be able to,” conveying…
The False Promise of No Contact
Around the time nineteen-year-old Alice began cutting ties with her family, she announced on social media that…
Moral Certitude and the Iran War
The current military engagement with Iran calls renewed attention to just war theory in the Catholic tradition.…