The Bear and his mate shall be meeting with another ephemerist to attend Mass and discuss items ephemeral and trivial. Therefore, his office shall be closed and there will be no one at his home. Except for attack goats, dogs, and a mean rooster, so don't get any ideas.
The Bear is still awake at 4:45 a.m. when the family must pull chocks at 6:30 for our little trip. He's long past that point where it just makes more sense to stay awake than go to sleep. (And he's mad that he will have to wait until 2017 to see Season Four of The Americans on Amazon Prime.)
He's pondering whether it is worthwhile to pick his Holiness' latest theological fanfic apart, when the task will likely take longer than the Bear's ability to hold an audience's attention. What is the shelf life of this as a story? But this is one of those things that a respectable ephemerist simply has to do due diligence on, don't you think?
Then again, there's nothing respectable about erratic crank "letters to the editor" from a moth-eaten old show-Bear.
The Bear wonders if during crises like this some people start wondering about things like ditching the Church; or realizing the Church was never the Church to begin with, and that bunch over there or maybe there is the Church. The Bear has three answers.
First, if it's an abomination before the Lord, that's on the men who made it and take advantage of it. Since the Bear's readers almost certainly do not include either, they're off the hook.
Second, this is why we nail our foot to the floor in front of our favorite pew and die there. If the Church were well-run, we wouldn't have to do that.
Third, life goes on, and how much actually affects us humble pewsitters? No doubt cause for further indignation, but there's never a shortage of that.