So often, we hear stories about Catholic school discipline involving corporal punishment, especially from nuns. It's something that's pretty much gone by the wayside but Gus invites listeners to call in and share any discipline stories they remember from their youth.
And later, Gus talks about today's readings from mass, which deal with lukewarm-ness and having an encounter with Jesus. In the First Reading, from the Book of Revelation, St. John writes that the Angel of the Church of Laodicea writes, "So, because of you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth." In today's Gospel reading from St. Luke, the Jewish tax collector Zacchaeus has an encounter with Jesus that leads to a profound conversion. Gus invites listeners who've gone through a period of lukewarm-ness followed by a life-changing encounter with Jesus.
Hi Gus!
I listened to part of your show yesterday. I waited a day to write.
My class was lucky enough to have a very sweet lay woman for kindergarten in 1956. She had been asked to fill in for a sick nun for the year. I believe I was the youngest in my class. It snowed the day I was born. My younger brother also had her. I didn’t realize until a few years ago that she had her doctorate and had written a book.
In 1st grade, a boy did some unknown thing that ended his Catholic school career that day. I never saw him again. I still think of him from time to time. There were approx. 35 students in out class.
There were no school lunches at that time. Our lunches were either bologna, or peanut butter with jelly sandwiches—- for 9 years!
The school day began with Mass at the church in front of the school. Every class was present every day. I recall not wanting to go to church on Sunday. We already did our time! And besides, I could hardly speak Latin.
I fondly remember looking at the old people who went to Mass every day. They impressed me. I wasn’t so sure I would do the same thing if I ever got to their age. (Somebody had the bright idea that hiding under a desk from a nuclear weapon was a good idea.)
The month of May was dedicated to the recitation of the Rosary in front of the statue of Mary next to the church. The temperature didn’t matter. These were Dominican Nuns! They were tough as nails, even in those heavy outfits. I never saw a nun faint due to the heat—-(can’t say the same for several of the students).
Gym class was anywhere outside of the school building; usually in front of our own classroom. When I was in 8th grade, we were allowed to play baseball. I had a good swing one day and watched with horror as the ball kept climbing. I think my guardian angel guided that ball to the wood frame between 2 large windows of the school. Nobody said a word.
If we had 25 cents, we could see a movie from time to time in the basement of the church. One was titled: “Marcelino pan et vino”, if I remember correctly.
All of my teachers and some of my classmates are long gone. I love the Dominican Nuns and their 18 inch rulers. I still don’t understand how to diagram a sentence properly. My handwriting isn’t as nice as it use to be. Our written language seems to be almost a foreign language to some these days. I hardly consider the value of a quarter anymore, except that I need 4 of them to vacuum my truck. I haven’t heard a clicker in half a century. But——I have a great affinity for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. My childhood school is now closed.
Those old people I saw at Mass I now resemble! I try to go everyday—-especially on the weekend. I prefer Saturday night. That didn’t happen in the 50’s. I guess I made quite a few First Friday Masses before I realized what they represented. First Saturday Masses are now important to me.
The teachings about the Miraculous Medal and the Brown Scapular of my school days have great meaning to me now. What young boy thinks he is going to die anytime soon?
I try to exercise the Sacraments like my body. The school boy of my past remembers being a hardhead. That’s a hard one to break. At least the confessors are kind.
The nuns gave us a love for the poor and needy. We had little but my parents got by with the help of my fabulous foster grandparents (William and Anna). They took my mother in and raised her when she was 3 weeks old. They did the same for an aunt of mine.
Have a great holiday season! Steve
For the past five years my son has attended Catholic school. I do not feel discipline is tough enough. I attended public school for reference. I believe due to the dwindling numbers the school is too concerned about angering the modern parent to administer the proper punishment. I’d reject and aggressively speak out if they dared issue a corporal punishment but his school wouldn’t consider an after-school detention as a consequence, which means the inmates are running the asylum;) And if you knew the parents where he attends, you’d understand why. Most deem their children infallible. I say…Good luck to them, as life marches on. New fan….so happy I found you! You do a terrific job! Stay blessed!
We were reading aloud in class. Sister would say read the next paragraph and call a name. When she called MY name, I lost my place. I had to kneel on the floor until we were done reading, and she yelled I would like to shake the gizzard out of you. PAY ATTENTION!! I was horrified, hurt, shaking. When I got home, I told mom the story. She was concerned I guess but said, “someone should just tell her you do not have a gizzard.”