Diary

Suffer The Children…

There was just something special about watching all those Democrats, leftist lemmings being drawn by the ineffable, filled with unease and dread of the Numinous as they entered uncharted waters, yet stalwartly filing in and filling the pews of a church on Saturday; special in the same sense observing a total eclipse of the sun is special—it does happen; but only very occasionally.

 

Still, it was very moving to witness the Party Faithful flocking together for a funeral Mass to bid farewell to their recently-fallen martyr and saint. Especially touching was the cavalcade of Saint Teddy’s grandchildren—it’s a big clan and there were a lot of them—as they bravely, in holy succession, stepped up to the lectern, young foot soldiers for grandpa’s cause, prepared to read from the cue cards previously printed up and distributed by the DNC diocese, extolling the righteousness of the public “option”. How courageous were these little acolytes as they came forth in service to the One True Universal Faith! (Progressivism, that is—not Catholicism—much less universal Christendom)

 

It’s true Jesus once said something about “suffer the little ones to come unto me”. But I wonder if even Jesus on His exalted Throne in Heaven wasn’t literally suffering—at least wincing—at the spectacle. I know it pained me.

 

You do have to hand it to those devout Democrats, though. They know how to shamelessly politicize just about any occasion, no matter how sacred or solemn. Although, to be fair, this time they managed to do so with an admirable degree of restraint and decorum, both of which were manifestly missing at the last Democrat religious gathering, the Paul Wellstone memorial service, which resembled something like a fiery Pentecostal revival on steroids—the only thing missing was the basket of snakes. In the case of the service on Saturday, to their credit, these good liberals, in keeping with their normal modi operandi, appropriated what wasn’t theirs, the religious trappings and church surroundings, and made them their own, co-opting Catholic traditions to suit the needs of their own syncretistic religion. And, even more amazing, these True Believers seemed to be able to pull it off with nary an outcry from the irreligious press about separation of church and state. It’s curious, then, that so many of them continue to deny the miraculous (even when it happens in their own midst).

 

Frankly, I’m surprised the youthful mourners weren’t conscripted into a more overt pageantry of ecclesiastical service, lighting candles and incense and chanting the sacred mantra, “Hope And Change”, in Latin while wearing the sacred vestments, gilded sandwich boards promoting TeddyCare. What next? With their religious zeal rekindled, will the Democrat devotees go fundamentalist and start enlisting child suicide bombers, sending them into fractious town hall meetings? What better training for the day when they’ll be old enough to join the ranks of Colonel Obama’s genuine paramilitary infrastructure, the domestic Civilian Defense Forcethe one The Commissar, Himself, said should be as well-organized and well-funded as our military?

 

During the liturgy’s intercession, with each Democrat talking-point being offered up by family and loved ones as a prayer, the gathered congregation was enjoined to bestow approbation by responding out loud in unison with the words, “Lord, hear our prayer”. One woman was overheard whispering to her neighbor, “Don’t they mean ‘Lord, yes we can’?” Joe Biden, nearby, nodded along in similar befuddlement. To be fair, a lot of these folks are a little rusty when it comes to the nuances of religious affirmation and traditions. That, and Holy Communion—appropriately, red Kool-Aid—had been served just before.