New Movie based on Internet Reality Star

(Having myself come from the land far far away, I just had to show support for a fellow Tarheal. Remember Pete the Pistol-packing Possum from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?)

Remembering my father

Today is the Feast of the Nativity of St John the Forerunner (for those following the New Calendar). It also marks the anniversary of the birth of my father (a coincidence that ensured his was always the family birthday I never forgot).

In a way, this particular anniversary begins a series of commemorations that undoubtedly will prove difficult for my family and me. As some of you know, my father fell asleep in the Lord last summer, and of course I will be remembering him appropriately on the anniversary of his repose. That said, I find myself thinking of him today and so offer this small post in his honor.

He did the best he could with the lot he was given, and he stood by me when my beloved wife reposed. Thanks be to God, he reposed in the Faith with full Last Rites.

May his memory be eternal.

Cardinal Political Firestarter

It seems the Roman Catholic Cardinal Archbishop of Quebec has gotten himself into serious PR trouble. The Cardinal spoke out recently espousing 'opinions' that touched off a firestorm of protest and invective from the press, various advocacy groups and even the Parti Quebecois. The Quebec Parliament went so far as to enact a Provincial law to specifically contradict the Canadian Senior Catholic Cleric and show unyielding opposition to his views. Indeed, The Cardinal's statements have been characterized as barbaric and despicable.

What are the comments that started such a firestorm?

I understand very well that a woman who's been raped is dealing with trauma and that she needs to be helped. But she needs to do so with respect for the being that is in her womb. It is not responsible for what happened. It's the rapist who is responsible. But there's already a victim. Do we need to have another one? The child is not responsible for how he was conceived; it is the aggressor who is responsible. We can see him as another victim.

Marc Cardinal Ouellet, Archbishop, Quebec City

Update: Our good friend Josephus Flavius at Byzantine Texas has reproduced a discussion on this issue from Touchstone Magazine's Mere Comments. I am humbled to have "gotten the scoop" on both Tony Esolen and Josephus as this is a quite rare occurrence.

A Clarification

Dear Readers:

As many of you know last year was a very difficult time for me and my family. The Melkite Greek Catholic mission which I have served over the last five years or so has been closed, at least for the time being. I am taking a leave of absence from active service in the Eparchy for health reasons while continuing to serve in the administration of the Catholic Diocese of Charleston, any misunderstanding or previous rumor to the contrary notwithstanding. I have no intention of joining the Orthodox Church. I remain at the disposal of my Eparch, Archbishop Cyril S Bustros.

Your servant in Christ,

Fr Titus Fulcher
AKA The Byzantine Rambler

Wisdom from the Holy Mountain - Elder Ephraim

Chapter One
On Salvation and Paradise.

7.Let us glorify the risen Lord, Who counted us worthy to celebrate His holy Resurrection. Let us pray that He will also count us worthy to celebrate the eternal Sabbath in the heavens, in the new Jerusalem, in the eternal joy. “And no one will take this joy away from you (cf. Jn. 16:22 ). Indeed, my child, for earthly joy is followed by sorrows which can annihilate it, whereas heavenly joy is not, because it flows continuously as if from an inexhaustible and life-giving spring.

Let us compel ourselves in our Christian duties in order to be able to celebrate the eternal Pascha, close to our Christ and see Him face to face for our blessed enjoyment, without it being interrupted anymore by trials and despair.

Depressed? Get God, Get Happy!

The Washington Times reports that two respected studies have revealed that belief in God helps people deal with problems and sickness with less depression.

The researchers compared the levels of melancholy or hopelessness in 136 adults diagnosed with major depression or bipolar depression with their sense of "religious well-being." They found participants who scored in the top third of a scale charting a sense of religious well-being were 75 percent more likely to get better with medical treatment for clinical depression.

"In our study, the positive response to medication had little to do with the feeling of hope that typically accompanies spiritual belief," said study director Patricia Murphy, a chaplain at Rush and an assistant professor of religion, health and human values.

"It was tied specifically to the belief that a Supreme Being cared," she said.

Who'd have thunk it?

Read the entire article here.

What is that? (Τι είναι αυτό;) 2007

Thanks to a poster on one of the many forums I follow....



And a belated "Happy Christmas" to all following the Julian Calendar!

Christ is born! Glorify Him!

Wisdom from the Desert

Abba Agathon said, “I consider no other labor as difficult as prayer. When we are ready to pray, our spiritual enemies interfere. They understand it is only by making it difficult for us to pray that they can harm us. Other things will meet with success if we keep at it, but laboring at prayer is a war that will continue until we die.”

It was said concerning Abba Agathon that some monks came to find him, having heard tell of his great discernment. Wanting to see if he would lose his temper, they said to him, “Aren’t you that Agathon who is said to be a fornicator and a proud man?” “Yes, it is very true,” he answered. They resumed, “Aren’t you that Agathon who is always talking nonsense?” “I am.” Again they said, “Aren’t you Agathon the heretic?” But at that, he replied, “I am not a heretic.” So they asked him, “Tell us why you accepted everything we cast against you, but repudiated this last insult.” He replied, “The first accusations I take to myself, for that is good for my soul. But heresy is separation from God. Now I have no wish to be separated from God.” At this saying they were astonished at his discernment and returned, edified.

(The Sayings of the Desert Fathers: The Alphabetic Collection.

Wisdom from the Church Fathers

Whether a habit is good or bad, time nourishes it, just as wood feeds a fire. Thus, so far as we can, we should cultivate and practise what is good, so that it becomes an established habit operating automatically and effortlessly when required. It was through victories in small things that the fathers won their great battles.

St. Peter of Damaskos

Find peace and thousands around you shall be saved.

St. Seraphim of Sarov

The Manhattan Declaration

Manhattan Declaration -

You can also read, download it and find out more about it here.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today my life changed irrevocably.


On 20 November 2008, my wife Presbytera Karen was diagnosed with a tumor. A year earlier she had quit her job to look after her father (in-laws live with us, or we with them; however you wish to cast it) who was suffering the final stages of Alzheimer's Disease. As it turned out, he died within a week of her leaving work, and so she continued to be at home looking after her mother, who is wheel-chair bound due to a stroke and broken hip.

Over the course of the year, Presbytera's mood and character began to change - to deteriorate, one might say. She became easily frustrated, often-distracted, and lost her balance on occasion. Naturally enough, we attributed all of this to the stress of leaving work and the loss of her father, both major stressors in life. She also began to lose weight. We attributed this to her being more active, her job having tied her to a desk for most of the day, and she now being free to move about, take up projects around the house, etc..

However, by the end of the summer things began to become ominous. Her moods were becoming extreme and common tasks that she had performed effortlessly for years now seemed difficult or impossible for her. There were times when she suddenly seemed lost in thought and removed from things going on around her. She also began to complain of headaches. She confided to me that she thought she was developing an early case of Alzheimer's Disease, which thought I attributed to depression. But the moments of confusion and headaches concerned us all.

By late September, early October her loss of balance and continency issues worried us. Presbytera had never been one to easily be convinced to go to the doctor. But we all persisted. The first visit led to the assumption that she had a severe sinus infection - she had focused only on the headaches with the doctor - and the usual prescriptions. However, after a couple of more visits things were only getting worse.

Her depression had become alarming. She spoke occasionally about killing herself. Then one day she walked up to the local grocery (just a block or so) and got lost on the way home. The scary part was that she apparently spent some time wandering along the railroad track that passes near our house. She later told me she remembered losing her balance and lying on the tracks for awhile.

It was now November.

I demanded that she go to the doctor and tell him all of her symptoms. To ensure she did so, I threatened to go along and/or make my own appointment to tell the doctor what we had all observed. She agreed to go.

The first attempt at an appointment went awry when she couldn't find the doctor's office. This office was near us and she was quite familiar with its location. I foolishly thought she was trying to get out of the appointment (sometimes, the human capacity - especially this human - to avoid seeing the obvious is monumental). She found her way home eventually and I had her appointment rescheduled.

That appointment was on 18 November. She made it to the doctor's office without much trouble.

While I was not present at that appointment, her report of it worried me beyond measure. It seemed the doctor couldn't understand what she was talking about and was both startled and extremely concerned. The doctor's office called me and related that Presbytera was very confused and hardly able to make a coherent sentence. The doctor ordered a CAT scan for two days later, Thursday, 20 November. The scan would be performed at an office next door to his office and she would have another appointment with him to review the results the following week. He would be out of town the remainder of that week. I assured Presbytera that I would go with her for the CAT scan as she was now very worried herself.

So it was that 20 November became one of those days the reality of whose impact was nearly incomprehensible for us all. We arrived at the lab facility and she was called for the CAT scan. I went outside and made a few phone calls. When she came out she told me the technicians had asked her to wait a few minutes and returned to tell her she needed to go immediately to the doctor's office.

Thus, we walked next door and were soon admitted to one of our doctor's associates' office. I remember he was compassionate and straightforward. Karen had a tumor in her brain. He strongly guessed that it was a "primary tumor" - it wasn't long before we knew what that then nebulous distinction meant. Just to be certain, because Karen was a smoker, he wanted her to go back next door for a CAT scan of her lungs. This would clarify the likelihood of whether the tumor was primary or secondary.

I remember that while she was having the second CAT scan, I called my spiritual father and a colleague and told them what I knew. I think I also called my father, but I can't really recall that clearly now.

The second CAT scan showed clear lungs; the tumor was of the primary variety. The doctor began to ask us whether we had preference for a neurologist and for the first time mentioned "oncologist". Even though I had heard, understood (at some level) and begun to react to all that was unfolding, the word "oncologist" moved me into a sort of shock. He was telling us my beloved Presbytera had cancer. I stumbled around that I saw a neurologist for my back problems and he was part of a good team. The doctor told us he would call for us to see someone from that team and begin arrangements for her to be admitted to the hospital. When he stated blankly that she would be admitted to the hospital no later than the next day the shock deepened. He told us to go home and await a phone call.

When we got home, I had to tell Mom (Karen's mother) what the news was. I sometimes go into what I call "professional mode" - a kind of state of consciousness in which I disengage from personal feelings to deal with a situation. I suspect all priests, ministers, firefighters, police officers and soldiers all experience similar shifts of consciousness. With Presbytera's halting assistance, I filled Mom in on what we had discovered. I recall urging us all to await the assessment of the neurologist, who could give us better information and detail; and perhaps even counter the generalist's alarmist diagnosis.

A phone call directly from my neurologist was the next shock. My neurologist told me he had reviewed the CAT scan and that Karen definitely needed to be taken to a hospital. His team's brain specialist was out of town and he highly recommended the team at Charleston's MUSC hospital. He had already spoken with the head of the department and they would be calling us shortly.

By now Presbytera was exhausted - for a couple of months periods of exhaustion were common with her - and she went upstairs to take a nap. I noted that our daughter would soon be home from school and realized she had to be told what was going on. In retrospect, I find all my attempted cool, logical reflections that day ironic as I kept thinking both this was horrible and also surely some big mistake.

Someone from MUSC called and in discussing admitting Presbytera I noted that our daughter would soon be home. I thought it would be better to tell her what was happening with her mother there, so she could see her and not imagine worse circumstances than reality. She would see her mother and not panic at the thought of her going to the hospital the next day. The nurse, I presume it was a nurse, now I don't really remember, hesitated but said she'd call me back in an hour or so.

Our daughter came home. By then Presbytera was up from her nap. I told her what we had discovered about her mother's condition, answered as many of her questions as I could and allowed her some time to adjust to the news. She offered to help her mother pack for the hospital, since by this point Karen seemed incapable of judging what would need to be packed. So Presbytera went to take another nap and our daughter began to pack her things.

The second call from the hospital confused me greatly. They asked whether Presbytera wanted something or had experienced something - I don't remember - but when I said she was napping and I would go ask her there was what I can only describe as controlled panic on the other end of the line. They told me they'd call me back in two minutes while I went to ask Karen.

The next call was alarming because of their desperation and because I still didn't comprehend the situation and the danger Presbytera was facing. They wanted us to take her to the emergency room immediately with the understanding that she would be admitted as soon as possible. They repeatedly emphasized that it was urgent that we get her to the emergency room as soon as possible. I didn't understand it; but I told Karen, our daughter and Mom the updated plan.

Our daughter asked if she could come with us to the hospital. Given that Karen was often more confused and moodier in the evening in those days, I agreed to this although I didn't like leaving Mom home alone in these circumstances. We began to put our 'plan' into action.

We arrived at the hospital, managed to get Karen into the emergency room (we had to park in the regular lot and walk - no one had told the ER people there was any special concern, which was probably good for our nerves at that point). After the irritating check in procedure, de rigour in US hospitals, we were ultimately directed to a small area and a bed for her. By now, I was becoming frustrated. I was confused and heading for a testosterone-motivated demand to know what was coming off here! (Funny, how when men desperately need to let out an emotion frustrated anger seems to be the prime choice.)

Then one of the doctors came to us. He was a neurologist and had reviewed the CAT scan. He patiently explained that the growth of the tumor was putting increasing pressure on Karen's brain. Surgery was needed as soon as possible. He had already ordered an MRI (the first of what became many over the last year), and they would operate the next day, probably in the morning. While tests after the surgery would be definitive, he felt certain she had either a Grade III or Grade IV Gioblastoma - another word we would become much familiar with in the weeks ahead.

He suggested that our daughter and I go home and I return the next day. He started to tell me that before the surgery she would be roomed in the Neurological Ward but paused and said, no, she would be in an ICU ward on the same floor as the surgical suite. Of course, this didn't make sense to me one way or the other but I took in the information as I began plan out the next day.

The next day was, obviously, 21 November, and we had planned Orthros and the Divine Liturgy for the Feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos. Somewhere along the way I had made the calls to let everyone know that this had to be cancelled. And so it was that on Friday, 21 November 2008, I hurried to the hospital, spend an exhausting day waiting for them to take her to the operating room, wondering why they seemed to be purposefully dehydrating her - to reduce pressure on the brain? - and reading psalms and prayers to Presbytera along with giving her Holy Anointing.

The rest, as they say, is history. The tumor was determined to be a Gioblastoma IV. There would be recovery from the surgery, radiation therapy, chemotherapy, counseling and a life changed beyond anything Presbytera and I could ever have expected. As readers of this blog know, by 4 July 2009 she was gone.

I'm not sure; no, scratch that - I am quite certain that through the whole ordeal I never fully comprehended the finality of what was happening to Karen. We talked, we cried, we argued, we laughed, we prayed, and throughout it all the "GBM IV" slowly continued its deadly progress. As each day passed she suffered more, we seemed to lose a little bit more of her; and for my part, I was always about two days behind understanding what was happening to her on any given day.

We never get over losing someone we love. At best we become accustomed to that void where our loved one was. My faith is firm that she rests in the bosom of Abraham. Yet I haven't "processed" it all yet; perhaps I never will.

In some ways, she is still with me; she is in my dreams every night, and every day my mind drifts to thoughts of her or curiosity as to how she'd react or what she'd say to some passing facet of the day.

All I can do is await the Day of Resurrection.





She was the love of my life and the Holy Trinity gave us twenty beautiful years and an equally beautiful daughter.

Thanks be to God.

I'm not really one to give advice, but I truly and seriously advise everyone: Love those around you now, and let no moment pass without cherishing those who love you; none of us know how much time together we have.

Theosis - the Answer to "What is Life?"

Hat Tip to Orrologion for pointing to a true spiritual treasure, the concise and wonderfully precise little book entitled "Theosis: The True Purpose of Human Life" by Archimandrite George, Abbot of the Holy Monastery of St. Gregorios, Mount Athos.

Note that the Orthodox Christian Information Center is a great source for very traditional Orthodox Christian teaching on a variety of subjects. While decidedly anti-Catholic, there is much on the site that is supremely beneficial to all Eastern Christians - witness the very book in question.

Stop reading this and go read what Achrimandrite George has to say; you'll be blessed that you did!

An open question...

"For every argument there is a counter-argument, but who can argue against life?"

St. Gregory Palamas,
Triads in Defence of the Holy Hesychasts

Out of the Mouth of Babes and the Wisdom of the Elders

This morning I highly recommend the Ochlophobist's posting: girls, uninterrupted . Also, a blog I wandered across called Archangel's Wanderings. At the latter site, the particular entry entitled Can We Make a Difference? This moving existential contemplation is thoughtful on its own, but I particularly want to point your attention the the sole comment. When I read the posting, I wanted to add a note, but when I read the comment I realized what needed to be said (and recalled by us all) had already been said with more eloquence than this rambler would have contributed.

Go. Read them. Now. Smile and hug someone.

A Daughter's Perspective - Life Update

This morning, my daughter emailed me the text of an essay she had written as a class assignment. She didn't mention the specific instructions for the essay, but I concluded it must have focused on struggles in the student's life in some way.

I like to believe that I've always had a close and open relationship with my child. To say that I consider her very intelligent and insightful is not just a parental boast, I've consider the issue very objectively over the years (that is, with as much objectivity as a parent is capable of incorporating into such deliberations). Yet, I have been truly moved by her essay. She presents a side of herself that I honestly did not think she was mature enough to have, much less embrace.

While I would candidly offer that she could give a second draft of the essay expanding on a couple of things that I know she is hinting at but not clearly stating, I am honestly astounded at her reflection. I present it below with one spelling error corrected and the poetry at the end formated in verse form (she had formatted it as prose at the end of a paragraph -- I can't help myself, old teaching habits!) .

To anyone suffering grief, I hope it proves as inspiring as I have found it to be.

English 4
19 August 2009

In My Life, I’ve Loved Them All

“In my life, I’ve loved them all,” were a few words from the Beatles’ song “In My Life”. In my life, there have been many hardships that I’ve gone through. People very close to me have died of diseases which had no cures. These two people and events have helped me become the person I am today: my grandfather and Alzheimer’s disease, and my mother and Brain Cancer.

My grandfather had Alzheimer’s disease which he lived with for a few years. During the summer, I would help my grandmother by staying home and keeping my grandpa calm and making him lunch or taking my grandma to the store. There were times when my grandfather would get into extremely bad moods and he would get violent. He would curse at some of the people in the house and he almost hit my mom. Luckily, she was able to calm him down and he would be quiet for a time and fall asleep. Honestly, it drove me crazy, but in the end it taught me to be patient with people because sometimes they don’t know what they are doing. It also taught me self-control. Every now and then, he would shout at me for not letting him outside because my parents told me not to let him. I had to control myself not to shout back, but to ask him calmly to go back into the living room and sit down. He died in 2007.

The second hardship I’ve had to overcome was when my mother was diagnosed with Brain Cancer in 2008. When my father told me, I was in tears. When I looked over at her I saw that she had an optimistic look on her face. It shocked me. How could she be so happy when she had a level four brain tumor? It baffled me, but a little while later, I realized that she was scared but she was just happy to be alive at that moment. At first, she seemed to act normally. Well, at least after the emergency surgery she had only a day or so after discovering the disease. My mother would walk and talk like she always did. But then her one tumor turned into four, then 5 or 6. She had another surgery, and then was taken home for her final days. During this time, I learned that life is the shortest thing we have. A person has to learn that life is so important that it should not be wasted. She lived with the disease for eight months, only eight short months. I learned how hard it is to take care of another person, because that is what I had to do for a while. I do not know how people with seven children do it. My mother taught me, through her disease, to look for the goodness in other people and to look at the silver lining instead of the dark cloud.

I have learned a lot through these hardships. By looking for the good things in life, my attitude has gone from unhappiness to joy. I love going to school now because of all of the new possible events that can make my day and life better. I used to try to make someone happy every now and again, but now I try to make my friends laugh more and I try to teach them that life can be very rewarding when looked at in an optimistic point of view. My grandfather and my mother were good people with good morals. They taught me how to behave, right from wrong and so many other lessons in life.

A quote once again from the Beatles’ song “In My Life”:

“And these memories lose their meaning,
when I think of love as something new,
though I know I’ll never lose affection,
for people and things that went before,
I know I’ll often stop and think about them,
in my life I love you more.”

Metropolitan Philaret on the Example of Ancient Christians

The Holy Apostle Paul in his epistle to the Philippians wrote that they shone as lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation (Phil. 2:15). A lofty spiritual disposition and irreproachably clean, strictly, chaste life; these were the characteristic traits of the Philippians Christians, for which the Apostle Paul praised them. We live in later times; nineteen centuries separate us from those days in which the Apostle Paul wrote his epistles. But now, just as the Christians of the first centuries, we are encircled by an environment full of shamelessness and perversion. May the high and holy example of the ancient Christians teach us to be as steadfast and firm in the observance of the laws of Christian morals, and not accede to the temptations which surround us.

Metropolitan Philaret of New York

In the above quote, Metropolitan Philaret, who some consider a saint, speaks clearly of the great need we have to struggle against sin. We should also recognize the importance of his reference to “the high and holy example of ancient Christians” as teachers and role models in faith and morality and what this teaches us. Our Faith is not a thing to be reinvented or remodeled from time to time or generation to generation.

As Eastern Christians we take very seriously that continuity with the “ancient Christians” who have preceded us. While for at least a few centuries in the West it has been fashionable to seek new ideas, new approaches, new interpretations, etc., as though only through continuously reanalyzing every assumption, belief, or proposition can Truth be found; we recognize the legitimacy of Tradition and the validity of not attempting to “re-invent the wheel” when Truth has once and for all been revealed. Therefore, we are not merely content to worship according to the prescripts of rituals that go back millennia, we are consoled and strengthened in the assurance of Truth this worship celebrates. These rituals and devotions work for us because we recognize in them a spiritual power that has stood the test of time.

Byzantine Christianity has remained unchanged throughout centuries marked not only by triumphs (which actually prove little) but also through centuries of suppression and the attacks of cultures and rival religious ideas that have often sought to defeat it by means of arguments, ridicule and the sword. The ability of this Orthodox Faith to continue to inspire, encourage, and enable countless millions to find hope and joy despite temptations, torments, and worldly ‘evidence’ that another approach should be preferable reveals an overarching inner conviction that guides and guards the faith of these children of God.

This inner conviction that is at once intellectually valid and mystically transforming has a power that can only be termed spiritual. It is not so much that it helps me discover who I am, it reveals who and what I am called to be. Our humanity is not confined to the limitations of this century, this culture, or this technology (and the lie that technological advancement somehow indicates an increase in the teleological value of a culture). Our Christianity, replete with devotions and practices that some may initially find arcane at best or even irrationally superstitious, proves to have an inner coherence that is not only perfectly logical as a ‘system of belief’ but in fact is a way of life that breaks us free of the imprisoning delusions of individuality and “predetermined” patterns of existence that actually do no more than limit and diminish our humanity.

By adhering to this “ancient” way, the ultimate freedom of our humanity comes into focus as an ongoing becoming. I am not a victim confined to the place and time of my earthly existence but a child of God having an autonomy through which my life possesses an inherent dignity and ability to surpass these ‘victimizing’ factors. Free will, freedom of choice, the supremacy of love to transform my life, and therefore my very humanity, reveals a spark of divinity within me that energizes limitless potential for real personal growth. This personal change is not some external reaction to outside stimuli, it is a living transfiguration mystically driven by the Grace of God. Humanity’s true fullness only reaches its apogee and victory in a surrender whose reality is Love, not some static submission to an opposing force. It is life restored by the God who is Love.

It is this inner healing and transforming power to experience life with godly eyes that lies at the heart of our Christian life. This capacity invigorates every aspect of our humanity infusing it with Divine freedom. Only True Faith can accomplish this; and it is for this reason that we not only follow the ‘ancient’ ways but delight in them. This is the Faith that offers true human life and freedom. This is the Faith that overcomes the “shamelessness and perversion” of temptations that only promise freedom but deliver only decay and a diminished life. This is the true life in Christ we celebrate.

Thanks be to God.

Another Family Update

As those of you who wander across this blog on occasion may recall my wife Presbytera Karen fell asleep in the Lord on 4 July. I must now report that my father has also fallen asleep in the Lord, on 4 August.

Since my mother fell asleep in 2003, life for my father has been most difficult. To say that she was the center of his life would be an understatement. Theirs was as a storybook romance. They met at a football game while in high school, he from the “visitor” side, and she on the home-team side. She was three years younger than he, and after a three-year courtship they married.

Like all those who came of age in the mid-twentieth century, they struggled with maintaining their marriage (and sanity) amidst the momentous changes and difficult challenges of that turbulent time, which included my arrival on the scene (having had to deal with me as a teenager should be considered meritorious towards sainthood in and of itself).

My mother was a woman of simple faith, who lived the faith more clearly than she could explain it. She had suffered from breast cancer and almost reached the “five year” mark when recovery complications from surgery suddenly took her life. While I grieved for her, I have never had doubts that ultimately she would be accounted among the just on the day of resurrection.

But my father, like many of that era, suffered from a defective understanding of the Faith, which led him at best to consider himself an agnostic. Several times over the years we would talk about the Faith and he would comment that he wished he could believe but just couldn’t.

For him, my mother's passing was a wound from which he never recovered emotionally. Although surrounded by siblings, family and friends, he closed himself off and spent countless hours working on jigsaw puzzles. It was a “hobby” that became an obsession. He claimed it was the only way he had to pass time even as we all encouraged him to get out and be with people.

When Matushka died last month, my father traveled to be with us for the funeral. He came with my uncle, who expressed great concern over his health. My Aunt had begged him not to go and my uncle noted that the drive had been exhausting for him. Indeed, he was obviously too ill to have come, but would brook no denial of his intentions. The day after Karen’s funeral he and my uncle returned home – another exhausting drive.

Two days later he was in the hospital and was almost immediately placed on a ventilator. It was not very surprising.

He had long suffered emphysema, and since my mother’s passing had begun to drink too freely, stopped exercising and stopped caring for his diet. This all had led to diabetes (which he ignored as much as possible), congestive heart failure (which any action to stave off via exercise the emphysema complicated), and pancreatitis (generally caused and exacerbated by his drinking).

Over the course of last month my uncle and I were continually in contact with each other and the doctors, as they struggled to control his condition and we hoped to talk him into moving in with my family on his release. Unfortunately, his health continued to deteriorate and ultimately I had to go oversee his wishes to be removed from artificial extraordinary devices.

I felt it my duty at least to offer him the opportunity to convert; but I had little hope he would be receptive.

Yet, he was receptive.

In the final hours before the ventilator was removed, they discontinued the sedatives so that he and I could ‘communicate’ to some extent. By a series of eye blink responses and my crosschecking that his ‘answers’ were not just random or vaguely understood responses; he accepted the Catholic Faith and so received Last Rites. This not only brought great joy to me for his sake, it also clearly brought him personally a measure of peace that both of my aunts, who were present, commented on.

As I have had to begin the sorrowful work of taking care of his estate, I have come across too many jigsaw puzzles to count – in boxes, half-finished on tables, or glued in place and framed. He had just kept on buying them, working on them, and finding more.

It has struck me that for him no puzzle seemed to bring him satisfaction. He just continued to find more and more puzzles to work on. It also struck me that since my mother’s passing his life had become a jigsaw puzzle in which she was that missing piece he kept desperately hoping to regain. Yet, in a broader sense, the missing piece was God. His defective concepts of God and the Faith had led him to despair many years ago, and the loss of my mother had merely brought home to him the magnitude of that despair and hopelessness.

I believe his attendance at Matushka’s funeral provided the opportunity for him to reexamine his assumptions about life and the Faith. In the end, I believe he realized that God’s Love was (and is) greater than any of his doubts, fears or any sin.

In the end, he realized that accepting forgiveness is not a bond of servitude but a gateway to freedom and true life.

In the end, he found he could accept that freedom, that life and the Faith. He finally discovered that one jigsaw puzzle piece that truly completes the picture and brings with it Divine Peace.

In the end, he - like St Constantine - may have waited until the end, but in the end he died a Christian.

Thanks be to God.

As for your humble servant, his daughter and mother-in-law; please keep us and my father's siblings in your prayers.

UPDATE: With modifications, this eulogy became part of a sermon I delivered today (8 August) at the graveside service for my father. The Scripture text that prefaced it was St Matthew 21.28-32.

News (that will be denied) supporting the humanity of the fetus

The Washington Times and other sources are reporting that studies have revealed/proven that a fetus (READ: "unborn child") has memory from an early state of development. This should have immense implications in the ongoing pro-life versus pro-abortion debate. We'll have to wait a few days to see how the main stream media handles this news.

Do read the whole article but feast your eyes at the following paragraphs about mid-way through the report:

"It seems like every day we find out marvelous new things about the development of unborn children. We hope that this latest information helps people realize more clearly that the unborn are members of the human family with amazing capabilities and capacities like these built in from the moment of conception," said Randall K. O'Bannon, director of education and research for the National Right to Life Educational Trust Fund.

A call to NARAL Pro-Choice America for comment on the implications of the research were not returned.

Sometimes it is amazing how science actually proves what most people would otherwise rationally consider to be commonly sensible.

Personal Update - Memory Eternal

Dear beloved readers of this humble blog:

With deep sorrow I must inform you that my wife, Presbytera Karen, fell asleep in the Lord this morning at about five a.m.. As some of you know, Presbytera had been suffering from a brain tumor (GBM IV), which evolved into several, with one inoperable. After surgery on 1 June and a longer than expected stay at the hospital due to complications, she spent a short time in a rehab hospital, and came home on the Feast of the Nativity of St John the Forerunner for hospice care.

The family and I kept vigil last night with prayers, holy anointing, and reading of the Psalms until her passing. In all, we sought to honor her final hours by expressing our trust in the promises of our Lord and in providing care worthy of the dignity of her personhood. Life is truly a precious gift from God from conception to natural death.

I wish to extend my thanks to each and all of you for your God pleasing prayers for Matushka and our family. We have been deeply touched by the love expressed in those prayers and have treasured them each and all. I humbly ask your continued prayers for our family as we face the difficult days ahead.

Your servant in Christ,

Fr Titus Fulcher
AKA The Byzantine Rambler



Post Script: My sincere thanks to all of you who have offered condolences and prayers. May our Lord the Holy Trinity bless you each and all.

More Americans Support Life

NEWS FLASH:

A Gallup Poll has discovered that Americans now hold a pro-life stance by a slight majority (51%).

Read the report here!.