The Roman Catholic Diocese of Baton Rouge, officially in Latin Dioecesis Rubribaculensis, is a Latin Rite diocese of the Roman Catholic Church in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It is a suffragan of the Archdiocese of New Orleans.
The diocese consists of 68 parishes, 2 ethnic apostolates, and 2 University chapels. Its territory comprises an area of 5,513 square miles (14,280 km2), being composed of twelve civil parishes in south central Louisiana: Ascension, Assumption, East Baton Rouge, East Feliciana, Iberville, Livingston, Pointe Coupée, Tangipahoa, St. Helena, St. James, West Baton Rouge and West Feliciana.
The current bishop is the Most Rev. Robert William Muench. There are 109 total priests in the Diocese, 60 deacons, 10 religious brothers, and 121 female religious. The Catholic population is 215,298 out of a total population of 884,650 (24.3% of the population).
Read more about Roman Catholic Diocese Of Baton Rouge: Bishops, Diocesan History, Present Bishop, High Schools
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“It is a dogma of the Roman Church that the existence of God can be proved by natural reason. Now this dogma would make it impossible for me to be a Roman Catholic. If I thought of God as another being like myself, outside myself, only infinitely more powerful, then I would regard it as my duty to defy him.”
—Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889–1951)
“The Roman rule was, to teach a boy nothing that he could not learn standing. The old English rule was, “All summer in the field, and all winter in the study.” And it seems as if a man should learn to plant, or to fish, or to hunt, that he might secure his subsistence at all events, and not be painful to his friends and fellow men.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“Carlyle is not a seer, but a brave looker-on and reviewer; not the most free and catholic observer of men and events, for they are likely to find him preoccupied, but unexpectedly free and catholic when they fall within the focus of his lens.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
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She lies, her lovely piteous head amid dull red hair
Propped upon pillows, rouge on the pallor of her face.
She would not have us sad because she is lying there,
And when she meets our gaze her eyes are laughter-lit,
Her speech a wicked tale that we may vie with her....”
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)