Replacing Everything in the Brain with Marcelisms

With all the beautiful images, Saint quotes, pictures of flowers and sunsets and every lovely thing available to the girl with The Internet, there's almost no excuse for posting a photo of the brain, as I have just done. Well, okay, maybe not a photo exactly, but a comic likeness is bad enough.

On the other hand, how marvelous that the Baconian revolution (you know, the rejection of Metaphysics, the progress of scientific technology, and so on and so forth) has brought us to this pass. Or is it an impasse? (From the French! You can tell by that random silent "e" on the end that doesn't even make us say "im-pace.")

Because honestly, what is more fun than having a friend (and fellow Marcel-lover) zip an email to me that contains the suggestion which I've turned into the title of this post? This sounds like a rhetorical question, but I have an answer that may surprise you.

The only thing more fun than that (I can tell you thanks to the experience of the last few minutes) is putting "brain replacement comic" into Google, pressing enter, shifting over to the results in Google images, and realizing that modern life is not only utterly ridiculous, but has provided me once again, through web comics, with a much simpler solution than replacing the thoughts in my brain one by one. I can offer myself to science as a donor body for Marcel's brain!

Oh, except as soon as I articulate my new "brainstorm" here (ha!), a host of problems arises. 

​Never mind!

We'll simply stick with replacing everything in the brain, bit by bit, with Marcelisms.

Sigh.
(That was a sigh of love. Jesus is so good! He uses everything - old and new - in our brains, our hearts, our bodies, our souls - as fodder for Love.)
Back to the drawing board, which means doing our brain replacement the old fashioned way, flipping open Conversations to give you, here and now, today, at least one replacing thought for some old worn out one . . . 

How about this (she says, preparing to randomly flip open The Best Book Ever After The Bible) . . .

Ah, perfect, a favorite (it helps that every page is full of favorites!) - from 26 April 1946, which was Easter Friday (Conversations, 529):

Marcel: Little Jesus, what's happening? Today, bearded Jesus has not yet received any news from either of us. Yesterday, the doctor examined me. He said I had nothing wrong with my heart, but I was very weak.

Jesus: Very good. From now on when you feel any pain in your heart, you will be able to lay the blame on me, do you understand? Since yesterday, Marcel, have you been very sad? And for what reason? .... What a pity! Marcel, you are truly very weak. Simply hearing the word suffering is almost enough to make you lose control. [Amen!] Little brother, before sending you any suffering, I want, first of all, to let you know how weak you are. You must realize that if you have not got the strength even to hear the word suffering uttered, still less do you have the strength to put up with suffering  . . . Little brother, although this is so, you must accept suffering; but you cannot understand how much Love suffers even more than you, having to make you suffer. Oh Marcel! Although you are truly very weak, the sight of your weakness makes you more lovable in my eyes than any gestures of love that you show me would be able to. My intention is to teach you that you haven't got the strength to endure suffering, even for the time it takes to wink your eye. However, little brother, your strength is love; and this strength can even make you capable of accepting all my sufferings, with those of Mary and of all your brothers and sisters the saints, and to bear them with joy. Yes, it is really so, and you can see by that that there is no longer anything difficult for you. (Laughing.) You are really the happiest of men, Marcel, what more could you want? And it is so because you are the weakest of all . . . 

+     +     +

I think Jesus has pulled a fast one on us here, but scratch my head and consider though I might (I'm not saying I will do either of those things, having long since learned they will not help, I'm just saying even if I did), there is no way I will understand crazy Jesus any more than my brother Marcel did!

Now, of course, Marcel understands a lot more. I don't mean "Now of course," but Now . . . of course . . . because he's in Heaven, and as Jesus promised (all Jesus' promises come true - isn't that awesome??), he and Jesus can talk easily all the time. Well, there is the danger that Marcel is playing hide and seek, teasing Therese, and so has not learned all he might during his eternal time already spent in the Beatific Vision (not saying I know how that works, just stating the facts, Ma'am). . . But I don't think I'll worry. Our little brother's still got forever to learn the rest, and soon (in God's time, but most likely way in the future in our time) we'll be there with him. Won't that be a blast?

On another but related note (because we're talking Saints and Heaven and that easily leads to the liturgical calendar), this Sunday is Padre Pio's feast day. It will be hidden behind the Sunday, but there it will be nonetheless, the anniversary of the day good Saint Pio got to shoot to Heaven like the star he is. 

I was thinking of writing, in Pio's sweet honor, a post called "Who's Afraid of Padre Pio?" - a rhetorical question if ever there was one, since everyone seems to be -  afraid of him, that is. (Don't expect this brilliant post to appear any time soon. Naturally the brain comic, being sillier, won the day for Most Likely to Be Posted; instead I'll just slip in a couple paragraphs here to tell you how silly you are to be afraid of kind Pio.)

If you don't already know, I must tell you that Padre Pio is one of the most tender-hearted and compassionate of the Saints, and only got gruff and goatish when women tried to cut pieces of his habit off for relics (I sure would have!), or when people lied in the confessional (now really - how silly is that? It's one thing to be confused or stupid in the confessional, we all can be confused and stupid, and no need to worry, it's how we're made, but lying? How silly!) These were hardened sinners, though, and Padre Pio was great at melting their hearts by giving them What For. Then they'd often return, meek as lambs, and in the place of the Good Shepherd, Padre Pio could become friends with them, giving in to his true desire to be a father and friend to whomever wanted his solicitude and paternal care.

I'm going to ask him to help us all - everyone in the entire world! - to love the sacrament of confession, to not be scared of it, to know Jesus who is All Gentle is waiting to receive us with tender mercy and immeasurable Joy!

I have to confess (since we're speaking of confession) that I once lied in the confessional. Well almost. I made my confession and after "I'm sorry for these and all my sins," our pastor asked how old I was (I was "behind the screen" so he only could hear my young sounding voice). I told him a round number, then tried to correct it to the right number, got it wrong, and tried again. You know what? Just like Jesus, who enjoys laughing with us and finds us adorable, the pastor wasn't concerned about my mix-up. He just wanted a ballpark number so he could figure out what to say to this seeming 14 year old girl who was confessing once again that she'd been unkind to her husband and children!

But enough of confessions. I think we'll call it a day so we can celebrate St. Matthew's Feast before it's over. Plus, we've got so much straw in our brains to replace with the true gold of Marcelisms, that we don't want to overdo it right at the start. Do feel free to scroll down or page back (I just found out there is a "previous" and sometimes a "next" at the bottom of the ten posts a page our Miss Marcel's Musings offers. Fancy that!) to replace as much of everything in your brain with Marcelisms as you can possibly manage (with your angel's help). But don't hurt yourself!

And let's not forget our best replacement so far, our little prayer to dear Jesus, our Savior and our Spouse:

Draw me, we will run!

or as we like to say in our best imitation of French:

Ahn-train mwa! Noo koo-roe(n) ah tah sweet!

p.s. Novena to St. Therese - ask for roses! tons and tons! - begins tomorrow or the next day, depending on whether you like to end the day before The Feast or on The Day of The Feast. You could repeat our little prayer (in any language you choose!) each day for a very little novena, or scroll down and page back to read a post-a-day for a very silly novena. Whatever kind of novena you say, or even if you don't say one at all (some of us still working on our 54 day Divine Mercy Chaplet novena to end on JPII day, October 22nd), know that I'll be praying for all your intentions, so prepare yourself to be drenched with roses!