Wednesday, May 20, 2026
"America Unites to the
Sacred Heart of Jesus"
Smoke in This Life Not the Next
Romans 14:12
“Each of us will give an account of himself to God.”
What truth about my life would I finally have to admit if I stood before God tonight?
That’s it.
No committee.
No excuses.
No comparisons.
Just you — and the truth of your life.
And that’s why the smoke matters now.
Because in the next life, there’s no more choosing, no more changing, no more offering.
Only accounting.
So tonight — cheap stick, cheap pour, cheap grace —
burn off what needs burning,
own what needs owning,
and start the account you’ll one day have to give.
Smoke in this life, not the next.
MAY 20 Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter
Ishbaal was no longer able to say a word to Abner, he FEARED him so.
This is a twisted tale of the leaders of Israel that are being divided in loyalties to either David or the son of Saul “Ishbaal”. Money, Power, Sex and Violence are involved. Hmmm sounds like this could be America splitting between following God or following the world, the flesh, and the devil.
Aspire to live a tranquil life, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your [own] hands, as we instructed you, that you may conduct yourselves properly toward outsiders and not depend on anyone.
1 Thessaonians 4:11-12
Ishbaal[1] was one of the four sons of King Saul, born c. 1047 BC. He was chosen as the second king over the Kingdom of Israel, which then consisted of all the twelve tribes of the Israelites, after the death of his father and three brothers at the Battle of Mount Gilboa. He was proclaimed king over Israel by Abner, the captain of Saul's army after his father and brothers were slain in the battle of Gilboa. He was 40 years old at this time and reigned for two years. Upon the death of King Saul, the tribe of Judah seceded from the rule of the House of Saul by proclaiming David as its king, and war ensued. David's faction eventually prevailed, but the war did not come to a close until Abner joined David.
Ishbaal and Abner Quarrel[2]
During the war between the house of Saul and the house of David, Abner was gaining power in the house of Saul. Now Saul had had a concubine, Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah. And Ishbaal, son of Saul, said to Abner, “Why have you slept with my father’s concubine?” Enraged at the words of Ishbaal, Abner said, “Am I a dog’s head from Judah? As of today, I have been loyal to the house of Saul your father, to his brothers and his friends, and I have kept you out of David’s clutches; and today you charge me with a crime involving a woman! May God do thus to Abner, and more, if I do not carry out for David what the Lord swore to him—that is, take away the kingdom from the house of Saul and establish the throne of David over Israel as well as Judah, from Dan to Beer-sheba.” Ishbaal was no longer able to say a word to Abner, he feared him so.
Copilot’s Take
Ishbaal’s fear before Abner is the fear of a man who has already surrendered his interior authority. Scripture shows a leader who no longer governs from conviction but from anxiety, intimidation, and the desperate instinct to preserve his position. The Catechism teaches that when the fear of man replaces the fear of God, a person becomes vulnerable to manipulation and moral collapse. Ishbaal’s silence is not humility; it is the paralysis of a conscience no longer anchored in truth.
The house of Saul was already rotting from within—ambition, lust, rivalry, and the hunger for power had hollowed it out long before David ever drew a sword. CCC 1866 names these forces as the “capital sins,” the roots of social decay that deform entire nations. Abner’s rising influence, Ishbaal’s insecurity, and the moral confusion of the court reveal what happens when a people forget the Lord: the strong dominate, the weak capitulate, and the nation fractures along the fault lines of sin.
This ancient drama echoes in every age. When a society elevates convenience, autonomy, and desire above the dignity of human life, it reenacts the same tragedy. Recent legal decisions surrounding the abortion drug mifepristone—while still under litigation—have raised concerns among many pro‑life advocates who believe such rulings undermine state protections for the unborn and may increase risks for women. The Church’s teaching remains clear and unwavering: direct abortion is gravely contrary to the moral law (CCC 2271). This is not a partisan claim; it is a moral one. And it reminds us that nations, like individuals, must choose whom they fear—God or the spirit of the age. Please confirm all legal details with a trusted source.
Yet St. Paul offers a surprising antidote: “Aspire to live a tranquil life, mind your own affairs, and work with your hands.” This is not an invitation to retreat but to order one’s life so completely around God that the world’s chaos cannot penetrate the soul. A tranquil life is not a soft life; it is a disciplined life, a life with no interior foothold for the enemy. David lived this way in exile. Ishbaal did not live this way on the throne.
The Catechism reminds us that the Christian life is a battle (CCC 409). The true enemy is not Abner, nor Ishbaal, nor political opponents, nor courts. The enemy is the ancient triad: the world that normalizes sin, the flesh that craves it, and the devil who weaponizes it. To confront evil is first to confront these forces within ourselves. Only then can a man stand firm in a disordered age without fear, without compromise, and without losing his soul.
In the end, the lesson is simple and severe: fear God, not men. Guard the vulnerable. Refuse to cooperate with evil. Live a life so ordered, so rooted in prayer, work, and purity of intention, that no Abner can intimidate you and no Ishbaal can sway you. A tranquil life is not withdrawal from the battle—it is the formation of a heart that cannot be conquered.
Apostolic Exhortation[3]
Veneremur Cernui – Down in Adoration Falling
of The Most Reverend Thomas J. Olmsted, Bishop of Phoenix,
to Priests, Deacons, Religious and the Lay Faithful of the Diocese of Phoenix on the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist
My beloved Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Part I
II. The Mass as the eternal memorial of Christ’s Sacrifice on the Cross
22. For the title of this Exhortation, I have chosen the words “Veneremur cernui” which comes from the hymn Tantum Ergo that we sing at the end of solemn adoration and benediction. These words composed by Saint Thomas Aquinas can be translated as “may we adore with body prostrated” or “down in adoration falling”. My dear sons and daughters, Jesus our Lord and God is present to us in the Sacrament of the Eucharist in His self-offering to the Father and His merciful outpouring of love for us. Let us adore Him with ever increasing reverence!
23. Whether we may be weak or strong, I encourage you to pray for the grace of faith in God’s presence in the Eucharist as well as the grace to worship as the angels do.
This is what the Church prays when she ends the preface and begins the Eucharistic prayer with the words, “May our voices, we pray, join with theirs in humble praise, as we acclaim: Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts” (Roman Missal, Preface of Eucharistic Prayer I).
24. It is in the Eucharist where Our Lord meets us and becomes our faithful companion along every instance of our life. After Mass, the remaining consecrated Hosts are reserved in the tabernacle so that Holy Communion can be brought to the sick and throughout the week we can come and pray in His presence. He wants to remain with us so that whenever we need Him, we will find Him there to be our light, strength, comfort, and guidance.
25. “I will be with you always until the end of times.” (Mt 28:20). Since that Last Supper of Holy Thursday until now, Our Lord Jesus has faithfully kept His promise – wherever there is a tabernacle in the world that contains the Eucharist, there is Jesus truly present among us. His presence is not like a memory or a symbol that a person keeps in a photo album. He is truly, really, and substantially present in the Eucharist. The Catechism affirms: “In the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist, the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really and substantially contained” (CCC 1374). The same Jesus that walked the countryside of Palestine, the same Jesus that preached, cured the sick and raised the dead, the same Jesus who suffered, died, and rose is truly present in the Eucharist. Indeed, our Lord is ever near us, and we might recall with joy the exultant words of Deuteronomy 4:7: “What great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us?”.
26. Immeasurable is the value of every Mass! Unfathomable is the grace made so accessible to us in the Mass, where Jesus Christ is ever present! It is here that a quality and abundance of life beyond this world is given to us.
To be continued…
Bible in a year Day 319 Come, Follow Me
Fr. Mike compares the story of the rich young man to the story of Zacchaeus, highlighting the difference in their willingness to follow Christ with their whole hearts. Looking at the stories of these young men, Fr. Mike invites us to reflect on our willingness to follow Christ with all that we are and all that we have. Today we read Luke 17-19 and Proverbs 26:13-16.
Around the Corner
· Foodie: World Bee Day-explore health benefits-Grasshoppers anyone?
· James Stewart, born on May 20, 1908, was a remarkable actor
· Bucket List: Go fjording
· Spirit Hour: Akvavit
Daily Devotions
· Unite in the work of the Porters of St. Joseph by joining them in fasting: Reparations Tuesday: Litany of St. Michael the Archangel
· for offenses and blasphemies against God and the Blessed Virgin Mary
· Litany of the Most Precious Blood of Jesus
· Offering to the sacred heart of Jesus
· Rosary
THE BIGAMIST (1953)
Edmond O’Brien • Joan Fontaine • Ida Lupino
Directed by Ida Lupino
A noir without shadows and a melodrama without hysteria, The Bigamist is a quiet tragedy of human frailty. Ida Lupino directs with a tenderness that refuses to condemn and refuses to excuse. Edmond O’Brien plays a man divided not by lust but by loneliness. Joan Fontaine gives the first wife a dignity that aches. Lupino herself embodies the second wife with a wounded independence that feels painfully real.
This is not a scandal picture.
It is a study in the slow erosion of conscience.
It is a noir about isolation, longing, and the moral cost of trying to be two men at once.
1. Production & Historical Setting
Post‑War Dislocation and Domestic Noir
Released in 1953, the film belongs to the era when noir moved from alleys and nightclubs into kitchens, offices, and adoption agencies.
The darkness is no longer visual — it is psychological.
America is prosperous, but its men are restless.
The war is over, but the emotional fallout lingers in marriages stretched thin by ambition, distance, and unspoken wounds.
Ida Lupino’s Humanist Direction
Lupino was the only woman directing studio‑level dramas in the 1950s.
Her style is:
- restrained
- compassionate
- morally unflinching
She refuses caricature.
She refuses villains.
She insists on the dignity of the wounded.
Edmond O’Brien’s Divided Man
As Harry Graham, O’Brien plays a man who is not predatory but exhausted — a man who drifts into sin not through desire but through emotional starvation.
His performance is the film’s moral tension:
a good man doing a terrible thing, slowly, almost helplessly.
Fontaine and Lupino: Two Poles of Womanhood
Joan Fontaine plays Eve with poise, intelligence, and a quiet ache — a woman who loves her husband but cannot see his loneliness.
Ida Lupino plays Phyllis with a working‑class realism — guarded, tender, and resigned to disappointment.
The tragedy is that both women are worthy of love.
The sin is that Harry tries to love them both.
2. Story Summary
Harry and Eve Graham
A successful San Francisco couple unable to have children.
Eve is industrious, focused, and emotionally distant without meaning to be.
Harry feels unnecessary in his own home.
The Los Angeles Detour
On a business trip, Harry meets Phyllis — a waitress with a dry wit and a wounded past.
Their connection is not lust but recognition:
two lonely people who stop pretending they aren’t lonely.
A friendship becomes a romance.
A romance becomes a pregnancy.
A pregnancy becomes a second marriage.
The Investigation
When Harry and Eve apply to adopt, the agency’s investigator uncovers the double life.
The film becomes a confession — not to the law, but to the truth Harry has avoided.
The Courtroom
There is no dramatic outburst.
No villain.
No absolution.
Just a man standing between two women he loves, knowing he has broken both.
The Ending
The judge’s sentence is less severe than the moral reality:
Harry must face the consequences of trying to be two husbands, two fathers, two selves.
The film ends not with punishment, but with sorrow — the sorrow of a man who finally sees himself clearly.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. Sin as Drift, Not Decision
Harry does not leap into adultery.
He slides into it — slowly, quietly, through neglect, loneliness, and unguarded affection.
The film becomes a meditation on how sin often begins:
not with rebellion, but with weariness.
B. The Wound of Emotional Neglect
Eve’s ambition is not sinful, but it blinds her to her husband’s hunger for connection.
The film warns that marriages die not from hatred but from silence.
C. Compassion Without Excuse
Lupino refuses to demonize Harry.
But she also refuses to justify him.
This is Christian realism:
seeing the sinner clearly without denying the sin.
D. The Double Life as Spiritual Disintegration
Harry’s two marriages symbolize a deeper fracture:
a man who has lost integrity — the unity of self.
Noir becomes moral theology:
duplicity destroys the soul long before the law intervenes.
E. Mercy and Consequence
The film ends with neither condemnation nor absolution.
It ends with truth — and the possibility of repentance.
4. Hospitality Pairing — The Divided Heart Spread
- Maduro cigar — earthy, conflicted, carrying the weight of unspoken burdens
- A rye with a sharp edge — something like Rittenhouse or Old Overholt, mirroring the film’s moral bite
- Simple diner fare — a plate of roast chicken or meatloaf, echoing Phyllis’s working‑class world
- A dim lamp and a quiet room — the atmosphere of confession, not spectacle
5. Reflection Prompts
- Where am I drifting toward compromise rather than choosing it outright.
- What loneliness in my life is becoming spiritually dangerous.
- Who in my world needs presence more than provision.
- Where is my integrity divided — and what would wholeness require.
- What truth am I avoiding because it will wound someone I love.
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