*Exhales* I've made it to another Friday afternoon more or less intact, although I think my pride took a bit of a beating on the Anthropology quiz this morning. As in, I might actually get a B and have to fall into the pit of despair. (kidding)
I am going to celebrate this weekend by FINALLY getting around to posting about the weekend before last weekend. That was a long time ago. I'll see what I can remember.
Saturday afternoon I went to a Lord's Day for the Servants of the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, which is a very long name for a rather small household. I think they're worth a second visit--I didn't go last week because that Saturday I was in the throes of the bleckiness that has been invading campus of late. I wasn't nearly as sick as some people have been but I still wasn't a) going to leave my nice cozy room or b) going to get germs all over people.
But I digress. After the Servant's Lord's Day I did some mundane stuff and then trotted off to an event called the 300 Women Intercession. I rarely get super-enthusiastic about things (when I'm happy it tends to be in a very placid way) but for some reason this really caught my attention. You see, the same evening there was a men's retreat called the 300 Men Challenge (in reference to Thermopylae) and somebody got the idea to have the women praying for the men while they were off doing their thing. Is this not awesome? I'm trying to explain what enraptured me and I can't quite do it. Maybe just because it's a way of saying, "Hey, guys are awesome and we really care about them." Just for the record, guys are awesome and we really care about them. At least, most of the girls at Franciscan do. The Gallery was packed. A rough head count came up with something like 250 women. I honestly think that more would have come if we'd been in a bigger room.
The next morning I woke up at 6:30 and couldn't go back to sleep (darn my dairy farmer ancestors for passing on their sleep habits) so I read the Phaedo all in one sitting. If you haven't read that group of Platonic dialogues commonly referred to as The Last Days of Socrates you really ought. They're awesome.
Then I got myself pretty and as I was going back and forth Rebekah comes down the hall and says something along the lines of "I was ready first!" Yeah, well I read the whole Phaedo so you had a head start. :)
A little after 10 we met Scott in the Piazza and all went down to the circle together, discussing the grammatical error that is "continuous shuttle". The shuttle, despite not being literally continuous, was fairly prompt. The driver asked us if we were going to St. Peter's and we said yes, at which point he used some button or another to electronically open the side door. Scott was quite disappointed and lamented the fact that automatic doors take all the chivalry out of cars. For the record, Scott opened every other door that whole day.
St. Peter's is gorgeous. That's the only word for it. Just sitting in the church is a religious experience, which I guess is the whole point of stained glass, statues, etc. You don't have to be lettered to get that.
I am going to be honest here, even if all Traditionalists subsequently hate me. The gorgeousness of the church was the single most striking thing of the whole day. I've heard of people being completely bowled over by the Forma Extraordinaria (am I spelling that right?) but I wasn't. I enjoyed it, for all that I only understood every tenth word and tried to pray the Our Father in Spanish. (I do not have a Latin switch and a Spanish switch in my brain, only an all-purpose non-English switch. I'm never sure if it's going to give me Latin or Spanish or a bit of German.) However, it wasn't this revolutionary experience of reverence. Maybe I'm "immunized" by having been to reverent Novus Ordo masses--in English, facing the people (there's a Latin term for this but I told you I don't know Latin), but in a gorgeous church with an altar rail and the whole deal and altar boys and no EMs. Maybe I've been "immunized" by being to Masses here at Steubenville in the Fieldhouse (some modern churches look like gyms, this is a gym), with female altar servers and EMs, which do rub me the wrong way a bit, and other things that don't bother me but bother a lot of Traditionalists who have seen them on YouTube, and yet they still have that air of reverence. I was talking about this with Scott the other day and he got it exactly right: "There should be a moratorium on FUS YouTube vids till somebody films the silence that falls immediately after the end of the closing song when pretty much every student in the Chapel pulls out the kneeler and gets on it for the next half minute or so." Really I don't know why I bother with this blog thing. I should just link to Scott. :)
After the Mass we waited for the shuttle to come back.
Somebody with a cell phone called switchboard and got something to the effect of "Oh! Right! Shuttle!" Apparently the shuttle did come eventually, but Rebekah and I were able to hitch a ride with a student who had a car. It was a very messy car. There was (clean) cat litter spilled all over the backseat. I include that detail because as I sat in the back of the car I said, "I am so blogging this." It's how I deal with what might otherwise be frustrating happenings. Another thing that should be included: the guys there (including Scott) didn't go with us in the cars. They let all the girls have spots first. Do we not have the awesomest guys at Franciscan?
We finally arrived back at Franciscan long after the Caf closed. Rebekah and I ordered a pizza. By the time the pizza got there Scott had also returned so we invited him over and the three of us sat in Rebekah's room eating pizza and talking about Armageddon. I don't know how exactly we got on that topic but that's what we were talking about. According to Scott the entire Yellowstone Valley is the crater of an active supervolcano that's a few thousand years overdue for an eruption. I sleep so much better at night knowing that.
Rebekah's roommate came in partway through this process and we got to know her a little bit. She was somewhat surprised to find a strange guy hanging out in her room (she's not surprised by me, I'm over there all the time). We attempted to reassure her of our normalcy by making small talk. Scott told her his majors, I told her mine (Communications and Theology). Scott's comment on that was "That's almost the perfect combination of a grammarian and a talebearer. Almost, but not quite." (It's nice to know I almost manage it.) Rebekah's roommate, for some reason, was not terribly reassured of our normalcy and said something to the effect of "Where did you find these people?" Rebekah explained that we were her Scanlan Scholar friends. Being a Scanlan Scholar gives a person a lot of leeway to be eccentric.
Eventually Open Hours ended so Rebekah and I escorted Scott out of the dorm and then I did some mundane things before reuniting with the two of them to watch Bella in the Fieldhouse that night. I would like to say more about Bella but this post is far too long already and I have things to do.