Today is the 25th of March. In the Roman Calendar, it is usually the Feast of the Annunciation, when the Angel Gabriel came to Mary, and she conceived by the Holy Spirit. Since it falls on Good Friday, the usual practice in the Western church calls for its remembrance to be moved to the first available day after the Octave of Easter.
Tradition also held (and this is not actually verifiable, but a matter of pious belief), that the original Good Friday was indeed on that date of March 25, exactly nine months before "Christ Mass," and that Our Lord died on the same day he was conceived. Life and death were thus seen as coming full circle through Christ.
Today, at a hospice in Florida, a woman is dying on the cross of modernity. In complete violation of State and Federal law, a woman whose brain functions have all but ceased is being starved to death. The media has trotted out their own straw men, to assure us that she will feel no pain -- as if that makes her executioners any more human.
Were I the Governor of the State of Florida, I would order a special force of state police in riot gear to storm the facility, and take Ms Schiavo into custody, where she would be well cared for as long as she lived. Furthermore, I would equip myself along with these men, and personally lead them to their appointed target. Let any judge's sheriff or Federal marshal try to shoot a Governor of a sovereign State. I would dare them to their faces!
There are no other posts today, nor are any planned, until the Resurrection is upon us.
"All under the leaves and the leaves of lifeJerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord, your God.
I met with virgins seven
And one of them was Mary mild,
our Lord's best mother in heaven.
"Oh what are you seeking, you seven pretty maids,
all under the leaves of life?"
"We are seeking for no leaves, Thomas,
but for a friend of thine."
"Go down, go down into yonder town
and sit in the gallery
And there you'll see sweet Jesus Christ,
nailed to a big yew tree."
So down they went into yonder town
as fast as foot could follow
And many a bitter and a grievous tear
from them virgins' eyes did fall.
"Oh peace mother, oh peace mother,
your weeping does me grieve,
But I will suffer this", he said,
"for Adam and for Eve."
"Oh how can I my weeping leave,
my sorrows undergo,
While I do see my own son die
and sons I have no more."
He's laid his head on his right shoulder
and death ha' struck him nigh,
"The holy ghost be with your soul,
sweet mother now I die."
Oh the rose, the gentle rose,
the fennel it grows so strong
Amen, good lord, your charity
is the ending of my song.