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This time last week, I was thinking about "A Tale of Two Cities," by Charles Dickens. Now, I'm thinking of Donovan's "Season of the Witch" - or my version of it: "Season of the Weird." Because in my 60 years, I've never experienced the weirdness of the COVID-19 pandemic: "So many different people to be, that it's strange, so strange - it's very strange to me." An older friend - who admits to evolving from a peace-and-love hippie of the '60s to a "gimme-what's-mine" capitalist of the 21st century - tells me it's like a bad acid trip. He said you didn't want to get out in public in the midst of one of those, because you might do something weird. Now, you don't want to get out in public in the midst of the pandemic because you might catch something weird.

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A recent letter from the Vatican reminded the world’s Catholic bishops of a rule mandating the use of wheat gluten for the celebration of the Eucharist, a Christian liturgical service called the Mass by Catholics.

John 6:5 says, “Then Jesus lifted up His eyes and seeing a great multitude coming toward Him, He said to Philip, where shall we buy bread that…