Sigmund Freud called it the old enemy. The Protestant reformers called it the whore of Babylon. The distinguished British historian Paul Johnson called it a dear old thing. Opinions have differed, sometimes violently, but through twenty centuries the Roman Catholic Church has rolled on like the old man river of religion. Your web-site author is a cradle Catholic, though I'll confess to - and hope to be absolved of - lapses in consistent observance. But the church has always been there when I've gone back.
My wife is one of the separated brethren, or sisthren or whatever. One of these days I'll explain the Real Presence and all those other fine points of doctrine. Somehow I don't think she'll be interested. As a classical soprano she's probably better acquainted than I am with the traditional music of the church, anyway.
The Jesuits used to promise permanent results if given "the first seven years." In fact, the gentlemen of Ignatius Loyola's order schooled me for four years at St. Xavier's in Cincinnati. Four appears to have been as good as seven in my case, since the instruction took. I still like the church's liturgy, now rendered into the vernacular but not so different from what the previous millenium knew, or what the third millenium will know. And the church's demanding moral teachings, though more than occasionally irritating and sometimes hypocritical, provide a refreshing difference from the usual media rot in these Clintonish days.
Catholic churches do not exactly grow thick on the ground in North Texas. I attend St. Philip's in Lewisville, next to my home town of Flower Mound. We just completed a new church to replace the previous decrepit and embarrassing structure. The new building offers a soaring roof that, praise be, does not leak. For more information on the parish, use the link below.
And if you're not weary of your pilgrimage through this site, more pages await...