Monday, June 8, 2026
🔸Monday Night at the Movies-June 2026 – Prophets & Pilgrims
Prophecy in June is a pilgrimage through the Church’s feasts. These films follow the soul from guilt to purification, from conscience to renunciation, and finally to a vocation lived in motion. Each week’s feast sharpens the film’s meaning and reveals a different face of the prophet’s call.
Jun 1 – The Informer (1935)
St. Justin Martyr
A prophet begins in the ruins of his own failure. Gypo’s betrayal and collapse mirror Justin’s insistence on truth: falsehood destroys, repentance clarifies.
Jun 8 – Stromboli (1950)
Sacred Heart / Immaculate Heart
Karin’s volcanic exile becomes purification. As the Hearts of Jesus and Mary burn with love, Stromboli burns away pride and forces a reckoning with God.
Jun 15 – A Man for All Seasons (1966)
St. Barnabas
Barnabas stands firm in the Spirit; Thomas More does the same. Here the pilgrimage becomes confrontation — conscience refusing to bow before power.
Jun 22 – The Abdication (1974)
St. John Fisher & St. Thomas More
On their feast, Christina’s renunciation echoes their witness. The prophet is purified not only by what he defends but by what he relinquishes.
Jun 29 – Chariots of Fire (1981)
Saints Peter & Paul
The apostles ran their race to the end. Eric Liddell’s obedience in motion mirrors theirs: vocation lived cleanly, joyfully, and without compromise.
June 1 — Smoke in This Life not the Next
Brick House Maduro & Rye
A Brick House Maduro and a pour of rye —
cheap, dark, honest fire.
The saints say the least pain of Purgatory
surpasses the greatest pain of this life.
Not because God is harsh,
but because the soul, once freed from the body,
feels truth without insulation.
Tonight’s burn is a reminder:
better to let the small flames teach you now
than to meet the great flame unprepared.
And like Stromboli’s volcano,
even the cheap smoke whispers the same lesson:
the fire that frightens you is often the fire that saves you.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May they rest in peace. Amen.
JUNE 8 Monday within the Octave of
Corpus Christi
2 Kings, Chapter 25, Verse 26
Then all the people, great and small, left with the army
commanders and went to Egypt for FEAR of the Chaldeans.
In view of the modern world, I wonder:
Are we still hiding in the fleshpots of Egypt for fear of the
Chaldeans?
Mary daughter of David help us!
Here we see the last remnants of David’s Kingdom in shambles. Now
the Jews finally realize that Israel’s hope is gone. Yet, God has not totally
snuffed out the line of David and through David’s line will come the Christ.
Oh, that Israel would recognize Him.
The Fall
In
the ninth year of his reign, Zedekiah rebels and Nebuchadnezzar besieged
Jerusalem for two whole years.
The
famine grows extremely severe in a short period of time.
Zedekiah
tries to escape at night with his soldiers, but he gets captured by the
Babylonians (Chaldeans) before they make it very far.
The Chaldeans kill Zedekiah's sons before his eyes, stab his eyes out, and take him in chains to Babylon.
Nebuchadnezzar's
captain of the bodyguard, Nebuzaradan, comes to Jerusalem and burns down the
Temple, the King's palace, and all the houses of the city.
The
Babylonian army tears down the city walls. Nebuzaradan takes all the remaining
people to Babylon—except for the very poorest, who still remain to be
vinedressers and do farmwork.
Brunch with the King
The
Chaldeans break the bronze pillars that were in the Temple and carry them to
Babylon.
They
completely loot all the remaining silver and gold from the Temple, stripping
away all the treasures and bringing them to Babylon.
Nebuzaradan
sends the two highest priests of the Temple and the three guardians of the
Temple's threshold to Babylon, where Nebuchadnezzar has them put to death.
Shaphan's
grandson, Gedaliah, becomes the new governor of Judah, which has been virtually
emptied out and put in exile.
Gedaliah
tells some of the remaining warriors of Judah to put down their weapons and
live peacefully under Babylon's rule.
They do
this for a while, but then a warrior named Ishmael leads ten men to kill
Gedaliah.
The
remaining people then run away to Egypt, afraid of what the Babylonians will do
to them as punishment.
After
thirty-seven years of exile and imprisonment, Jehoiachin is freed by King
Evil-merodoch of Babylon. The king lets Jehoiachin eat at his own table in
luxury and also gives him a generous, regular allowance.
In fact, Jehoiachin eats daily at the Babylonian table is an
assertion that there is hope and after the gospel of Matthew, for instance is
quick to name Jesus as “son of David”.
Copilot’s
Take
Babylon in 2 Kings 25 wasn’t a metaphor — it was the most ruthless, efficient, and terrifying empire on earth. They were the bad‑asses of their age: siege masters, temple burners, king‑blinders, nation‑crushers. When Babylon showed up, kingdoms evaporated. Judah collapses under the weight of its own infidelity, and when the Chaldeans appear at the gates, the remnant panics and runs back to Egypt. Egypt becomes the symbol of false refuge—of comfort chosen over covenant, of fear chosen over faith. The Catechism names this dynamic plainly: idolatry is trusting anything more than God. The Jews fled because Nebuchadnezzar felt more real than the Lord.
But
here is the biblical twist: even Babylon didn’t last. The empire that seemed
invincible was crushed almost overnight by the Persians. The bad‑ass conquerors
were themselves conquered. The hammer became the anvil. This is the rhythm of
salvation history: every power that exalts itself eventually falls. And now, in
our own age, we are dealing with the spiritual descendants of both Babylon and
Persia — not nations, but forces. Cultural intimidation, moral confusion,
spiritual pressure, the machinery of a world that has forgotten God. These are
the new Chaldeans. They feel hard, immovable, overwhelming. But Scripture
teaches us to see them in perspective. Babylon fell. Persia fell. Rome fell.
Every empire falls. Only Christ remains.
This
is why the Octave of Corpus Christi reframes everything. When earthly kingdoms
collapse, God does not retreat — He draws closer. The Temple burns, but the
true Temple stands in the Eucharist. The king is blinded, but the true King
sees His people. The treasures are looted, but the one Treasure that cannot be
stolen is placed on the altar. The Eucharist is the antidote to Egypt because
it strips away illusion and reveals reality. In the Host, the Son of David
remains with His people even when every earthly structure fails.
Mary,
Daughter of David, stands at the center of this hope. She is the new Ark,
carrying the true King when the old kingdom lies in ruins. Where Egypt
enslaves, Mary frees; where Egypt distracts, Mary focuses; where Egypt
corrupts, Mary purifies. Her Magnificat is the opposite of the remnant’s flight
— fearless praise in a world ruled by tyrants. To invoke her is to step out of
fear and into fidelity.
Even
in the ashes of 2 Kings, God plants a seed of hope. Jehoiachin eating at the
Babylonian king’s table is not a random detail — it is the quiet assurance that
the Davidic line is not dead. Matthew will seize this thread centuries later:
“Jesus Christ, the son of David.” The message is unmistakable. Even when the
world collapses, God is preparing redemption. Even when the faithful scatter,
God is gathering a remnant. Even when fear drives men to Egypt, grace calls
them home.
In
this Octave, the question becomes personal: Will we live as exiles hiding in
Egypt, or as sons gathered around the table of the true King. The Eucharist is
where courage is restored, fear is broken, and the Kingdom begins again — not
in political triumph, but in the quiet strength of Christ’s abiding Presence.
Apostolic Exhortation[1]
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 III
Loving and Adoring the Eucharistic Lord
IV.
Invite a friend to join you in adoration.
85.
Call to mind a loved one who feels himself or herself to be far from the
Church. Think of a friend who finds the Mass difficult to understand and to
engage. Consider an acquaintance in your life who does not believe in God or in
Christ. Now imagine each of these persons sitting quietly and peacefully next
to you in a beautiful place of adoration for ten minutes of Eucharistic
adoration.
What
gentle but profound effect might it have in his or her heart?
86.
The Gospels present a clear pattern in which Jesus makes Himself present to
people before He teaches, and certainly long before He draws them into His act
of worship in His Paschal Mystery. We might say the general pattern is: first
His presence, then His worship. The Lord is present in many ways.
But
do we trust that the Eucharistic Christ can and will touch the hearts of our
friends, if we but invite them to be near Him there?
87.
Of course, it takes prudence and discernment to know when and how to offer such
an invitation. But the times for such friendly invitations do come! In the
Gospels we see persons bringing others into the bodily presence of Christ in
various ways. I’ll mention three different approaches which are instructive for
us today: testimony, invitation, and carrying.
To
be continued…
Bible in a year Day 338 Death
Defeated
As we continue along the path of our forefathers in faith, Fr. Mike reminds us that we live in the same era as the Apostles and have the same Holy Spirit. Just like St. Paul stood out by imitating Jesus and sharing the Gospel, we are called to do the same. Fr. Mike also discusses our duality as both body and soul as it relates to Christ’s resurrection. Today’s readings are Acts 17, 1 Corinthians 15, and Proverbs 28:16-18.
Around the Corner
One of the most well-known landmarks in Fairfax County is the
mighty Potomac River, running 405 miles long into the Chesapeake Bay. There's
nothing like feeling the wind in your hair and gliding through miles of natural
scenic landscapes. Whether you're kayaking, paddleboarding, or canoeing, there
are plenty of places to go. Find your picture-perfect paddling adventure here
on our boating page.[2]
Girl's
brain tumor vanishes, and more medical miracles that inspired us in 2018
Bucket List Trip: Around
the World “Perfect Weather”
Bordeaux, France
Eat waffles and
Pray for the assistance of the Angels
Foodie-Something “Country”
Today is World Oceans Day
Monday: Litany of Humility
Daily
Devotions
Unite in the work of the Porters of St. Joseph by joining them
in fasting: : Protection
of Traditional Marriage
Litany of the Most Precious
Blood of Jesus
Offering to
the sacred heart of Jesus
Rosary
STROMBOLI (1950)
Ingrid Bergman • Mario Vitale • Renzo Cesana
Directed by Roberto Rossellini
A volcanic exile of pride, fear, and awakening,
Stromboli is not merely a neorealist drama.
It is a crucible —
a place where illusions burn,
where a woman is stripped of every false identity,
and where the soul discovers God only after every escape route collapses.
It is the story of a refugee who marries to survive,
a husband who cannot understand her,
and an island whose fire becomes the instrument of grace.
And then the reckoning comes —
not as punishment,
but as purification.
1. Production & Historical Setting
Rossellini’s Furnace of the Soul
Released in 1950, Stromboli stands at the beginning of Rossellini’s spiritual trilogy —
a stark, unadorned confrontation between a human heart and the God it has avoided.
Shot on the real volcanic island,
the film feels less like a location
and more like the interior landscape of a woman under judgment.
Ingrid Bergman: The Proud Exile
Bergman’s Karin is not a heroine.
She is a wounded, self‑protective soul
whose pride is her last possession.
Her performance is raw, restless, volcanic —
a portrait of a woman who must be broken
before she can be saved.
The Island as Iconography
Stromboli’s ash, smoke, and fire
create a world where God is not distant
but uncomfortably near —
pressing, purifying, demanding truth.
2. Story Summary
A Marriage of Desperation
Karin, trapped in a refugee camp, marries a fisherman
not out of love
but escape.
An Island That Will Not Bend
She arrives on Stromboli expecting freedom
and finds instead a prison of rock, fire, and silence.
The villagers judge her.
Her husband cannot reach her.
Her pride becomes her only companion.
A Woman Trying to Outrun Herself
Karin seeks escape through charm, manipulation, and fantasy —
but the island exposes every lie.
The volcano erupts.
The interior volcano erupts with it.
The Ascent Into Judgment
Fleeing the island, she climbs the mountain
as if climbing into the very mouth of God.
Exhausted, terrified, stripped of all defenses,
she collapses and cries out:
“God, help me. God, help me.”
A Final Act of Surrender
It is not triumph.
It is not defeat.
It is the beginning of truth.
Her life may remain unresolved,
but her soul has finally turned toward God.
3. Spiritual & Moral Resonances
A. The Sacred Heart Burns Away Illusion
The Sacred Heart is fire —
not sentimental warmth
but purifying flame.
Karin’s pride cannot survive it.
B. The Immaculate Heart Reveals the Wound
Mary’s Heart exposes the deeper truth:
Karin is not wicked —
she is afraid.
Fear is the root of her hardness.
C. Exile Is Often the First Mercy
God removes her from every false refuge
so she can finally face herself.
D. The Volcano Is Not Punishment
It is the icon of the Two Hearts:
burning, purifying, illuminating.
The eruption mirrors the moment
when grace breaks through her defenses.
E. Surrender Is the First Prayer
Karin’s cry on the mountain
is the film’s true climax —
the moment when the soul stops running
and finally turns toward God.
4. Hospitality Pairing — A Night of Fire & Surrender
Cigar: A Nicaraguan Habano — volcanic, mineral, uncompromising.
Drink: A high‑proof bourbon — heat with depth, fire with sweetness.
Plate: Grilled fish, lemon, coarse salt — elemental, ascetic, honest.
Atmosphere: Dim room, single candle, the sense of a heart being stripped down to truth.
5. Reflection Prompts
Where is my pride resisting God’s purifying fire.
What illusions must be burned away before I can love.
Where have I mistaken God’s mercy for punishment.
What fear is keeping my heart closed.
What surrender must I finally make so grace can begin its work.
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