Another Penance
I believe I shall try to force my way through a biography of St. Francis of Assisi by Adrian House.
Something a Little Lighter
From the magnificent slender volume Haikus for Jews by David M. Bader. I've selected those that would work for Catholics as well.
from Haikus for Jews David M. BaderCoroner's Report--
"The deceased, wearing no hat,
caught his death of cold."Quietly murmured
at Saturday services
Yanks 5, Red Sox 3.After the youngest
recites the Four Questions, the
fifth--when do we eat?Hidden connection--
starvation in Africa,
food left on my plate.A lovely nose ring--
excuse me while I put my
head in the oven.
Many of these are VERY Jewish referring to customs, notions, or ideas with which I have only tenuous connections. However, as you can see, these are bound to appeal to parents and people the world over. See if you can get it from the public library--very entertaining.
Coventry Patmore has never been a favorite of mine. I started reading him when some critics mentioned that he was one of the great Catholic Poets of Victorian times. That may well be true, but if so, it speaks to the meagre production of Catholic Poets, or the generally sing-song quality of Victorian Poetry. I find Patmore sometimes to be little better than greeting card verse--rhythms too heavily sustained, rhymes to strongly regular. One would think these hardly faults, but they are when you are looking for music.
But then, I have a harsh ear when it comes to what I like, and it is often better for me to return time and again to things I have not cared for, looking at them with a careful eye for what may be there. And Patmore does have some fine work.
Magna Est Veritas Coventry PatmoreHere, in this little Bay,
Full of tumultuous life and great repose,
Where, twice a day,
The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world's course will not fail:
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.
I sat for a while with this small poem and wondered what it was all about. And it occurred to me that it might be a response, in part to Matthew Arnold's great poem of despair, "Dover Beach". And if ever a poem needed the response of ringing faith--"Dover Beach" is the one. Now, I don't know relative dates of composition, etc, so I cannot claim this as truth. However, I have noted that certain eras have a zeitgeist to which many artists direct their attention all at once. And around this central feeling much of the great art of the time may be oriented.
So I offer this small poem with the thought that it is actually a breath of faith in a wind of wondering and despair that was beginning to pervade the modern age.
Lenten Resolutions
Our good friend Kathy the Carmelite asks "ISN'T IT A LITTLE BIT EARLY......for Lenten resolutions to go kaput?"
The answer, of course, is, it's never too early--it's always just the right time. Our resolutions are meaningless if they don't well up from a spirit of serving God. I've often wondered about this tradition of setting ourselves up for defeat by promising things that we often can't keep. And then it occurred to me... It's the perfect tradition for Lent. In the course of our daily defeats in our resolutions, we become tremendously aware of how little we are capable of alone. We strive staunchly to do this and that thing, often neglecting the whole point behind it--taking shelter in prayer.
So Lent is a perfect time of resolutions, and for being very aware of our failure to follow them. It is a good time to realize that at least part of the foundation of our houses is built on shifting sand. These little defeats are a source of profound joy, because in them we can recognize our desperate need for Jesus and we can turn to Him, not neglecting our promises, but in the shelter of our prayer and conversation to the Lord, asking Him to assume the burden for what we have promised. And, mysteriously, it will happen.
Early Measures and What They Tell Me
Since Ash Wednesday, I've seen a precipitous drop in both visitors and participation. Those who were wont to make comments before, still do comment, but many who have done so have reduced their comments. This tells me that many have decided to ration time on the Web (very commendable, and very wise). Futher, I suspect the drop in numbers is not a real drop, but a drop in repeat visits in the course of a day, so the present numbers are probably more representative of the actual audience in the course of a day. I would guestimate that between 15 and 30% of my visitors are people looking for something they either will not find or they will not be happy with once they do find it.
The stunning conclusion of all of this? Well, it seems that the majority of my visitors who are actually reading are St. Blog's parishioners, and that the majority of St. Blog's does stop by ocassionally.
More analysis from a mind hungry for God and numbers.
(Not so hungry however that I gave any mind to 03/03/03 at 3:33--after all, oughtn't we to be praying constantly?)
My Lenten Practice
I was afraid to say anything because I wasn't sure it would be possible, but after a couple of days it appears that it may and I would like to offer my aid in prayer and fasting to any who need it. I plan to observe a fairly strict daytime fast every day of Lent (except perhaps Sunday). Most days this will be nothing but my usual green tea in the morning. I may moderate this to a "Catholic Fast" (which one of my friends said, "That's not a fast, it's weight-watchers.") on very stressful or very busy days when I need to force a break in the day. So, please let me know how I can pray for you and offer this for the benefit of all.
Also, it appears that my circumstances have changed in such a way as I will no longer be able to attend daily Mass, and this is great hardship--appropriate, I suppose for an Lenten observance that God gives me this gift. Please pray for me as there may be a way to manage some days of attending Mass, but it is all in God's hands.
Also, I am fasting from any form of sweets other than fruit or yogurt. This invariably leads to strong mood changes--so if I bark at you, consider it chocolate deprivation--but this is a good deprivation that, with the grace of God will continue long after Lent--a necessary detachment.
So, let these small sacrifices work for you. I will be delighted to pray for anyone who needs it, just drop me a line.
Finally, I will be refraining (though not eliminating) comments in other people's comment boxes for the time of Lent. This is one of the places where the Seventeen Evidences really haunt me. So, I'm not being anti-social--in fact, I'm attempting, with God's aid, to be more charitable.
Please pardon the length of the following poem, but it seemed to have a really nice Lenten Theme, and I could not figure out where best to truncate it if I were to present an excerpt. Besides, the lines are short, the form is narrative, and Anne Bradstreet is always worth the investment of time.
The Flesh and the Spirit
Anne Bradstreet (ca. 1612-1672)In secret place where once I stood
Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was call'd, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other Spirit, who did rear
Her thoughts unto a higher sphere.
"Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on
Nothing but Meditation?
Doth Contemplation feed thee so
Regardlessly to let earth go?
Can Speculation satisfy
Notion without Reality?
Dost dream of things beyond the Moon
And dost thou hope to dwell there soon?
Hast treasures there laid up in store
That all in th' world thou count'st but poor?
Art fancy-sick or turn'd a Sot
To catch at shadows which are not?
Come, come. I'll show unto thy sense,
Industry hath its recompence.
What canst desire, but thou maist see
True substance in variety?
Dost honour like? Acquire the same,
As some to their immortal fame;
And trophies to thy name erect
Which wearing time shall ne'er deject.
For riches dost thou long full sore?
Behold enough of precious store.
Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Affects thou pleasure? Take thy fill.
Earth hath enough of what you will.
Then let not go what thou maist find
For things unknown only in mind."
Spirit.
"Be still, thou unregenerate part,
Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vow'd (and so will do)
Thee as a foe still to pursue,
And combat with thee will and must
Until I see thee laid in th' dust.
Sister we are, yea twins we be,
Yet deadly feud 'twixt thee and me,
For from one father are we not.
Thou by old Adam wast begot,
But my arise is from above,
Whence my dear father I do love.
Thou speak'st me fair but hat'st me sore.
Thy flatt'ring shews I'll trust no more.
How oft thy slave hast thou me made
When I believ'd what thou hast said
And never had more cause of woe
Than when I did what thou bad'st do.
I'll stop mine ears at these thy charms
And count them for my deadly harms.
Thy sinful pleasures I do hate,
Thy riches are to me no bait.
Thine honours do, nor will I love,
For my ambition lies above.
My greatest honour it shall be
When I am victor over thee,
And Triumph shall, with laurel head,
When thou my Captive shalt be led.
How I do live, thou need'st not scoff,
For I have meat thou know'st not of.
The hidden Manna I do eat;
The word of life, it is my meat.
My thoughts do yield me more content
Than can thy hours in pleasure spent.
Nor are they shadows which I catch,
Nor fancies vain at which I snatch
But reach at things that are so high,
Beyond thy dull Capacity.
Eternal substance I do see
With which inriched I would be.
Mine eye doth pierce the heav'ns and see
What is Invisible to thee.
My garments are not silk nor gold,
Nor such like trash which Earth doth hold,
But Royal Robes I shall have on,
More glorious than the glist'ring Sun.
My Crown not Diamonds, Pearls, and gold,
But such as Angels' heads infold.
The City where I hope to dwell,
There's none on Earth can parallel.
The stately Walls both high and trong
Are made of precious Jasper stone,
The Gates of Pearl, both rich and clear,
And Angels are for Porters there.
The Streets thereof transparent gold
Such as no Eye did e're behold.
A Crystal River there doth run
Which doth proceed from the Lamb's Throne.
Of Life, there are the waters sure
Which shall remain forever pure.
Nor Sun nor Moon they have no need
For glory doth from God proceed.
No Candle there, nor yet Torch light,
For there shall be no darksome night.
From sickness and infirmity
Forevermore they shall be free.
Nor withering age shall e're come there,
But beauty shall be bright and clear.
This City pure is not for thee,
For things unclean there shall not be.
If I of Heav'n may have my fill,
Take thou the world, and all that will."
This City pure is not for thee/for things unclean there shall not be. . . This speaks to me so profoundly because it echoes a strain of St. John of the Cross. He notes that God is simple (from Aquinas) and therefore cannot dwell with duplicity. Thus, if we set our hearts on the things of this world, we create a barrier to union with God because "you cannot love both God and Mammon." Thus the heart must be simple, set on one things alone--God as the Desire of Ages, the Heart of Hearts, the center and perfection of Love, the pinnacle of Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. Come to think of it, why would we desire anything less?
Salvifici Doloris
Mr. Reuter of Become What You Are is offering a Lenten reflection on suffering based on the encyclical Salvifici Doloris. Worth your attention.
Concerted Effort--Prayers Urgently Needed
Ms. Knapp is in the hospital and according to Mr. Serafin at Catholic Blog for Lovers has been given her eighth pint of plasma. Please pray for one of St. Blog's own. Thanks.
Self-Denial--From John Henry Newman
Part of the reflective reading for Lent--
from Parochial and Plain Sermons--Vol. 7, No. 7 John Henry Cardinal NewmanSermon 7. The Duty of Self-denial
"Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, as a child that is weaned of his mother: my soul is even as a weaned child." Psalm cxxxi. 2.{86} SELF-DENIAL of some kind or other is involved, as is evident, in the very notion of renewal and holy obedience. To change our hearts is to learn to love things which we do not naturally love—to unlearn the love of this world; but this involves, of course, a thwarting of our natural wishes and tastes. To be righteous and obedient implies self-command; but to possess power we must have gained it; nor can we gain it without a vigorous struggle, a persevering warfare against ourselves. The very notion of being religious implies self-denial, because by nature we do not love religion.
Self-denial, then, is a subject never out of place in Christian teaching; still more appropriate is it at a time like this, when we have entered upon the forty days of Lent, the season of the year set apart for fasting and humiliation. {87}
This indeed is not all that is meant by self-denial; but before proceeding with the subject, I would ask whether the generality of mankind go as far as this: it is plain that they do not. They do not go so far as to realize to themselves that religious obedience involves a thwarting of those wishes and inclinations which are natural to them. They do not like to be convinced, much less will they act upon the notion, that religion is difficult.
Two Maxims from the Writings of the Blessed Henry Suso
"God wishes not to deprive us of pleasure; but He wishes to give us pleasure in its totality--that is, all pleasure."
"Wilt thou be of use to all creatures? Then turn thyself away from all creatures."
Todo y nada, the via negativa--find God where He is, not where you would like Him to be.
Excerpt from a Letter to Lady Kenmure--February 1, 1630I have neither tongue nor pen to express to you the happiness of such as are in Christ. When ye have sold all that ye have, and bought the field wherein this pearl is, ye will think it no bad market; for if ye be in Him, all His is yours, and ye are in Him; therefore, 'because He liveth, ye shall live also' (John 14.19). 'Father, I will that those whom Thou hast given Me be with Me when I am, to behold My glory that Thou hath given me' (John 17.24). Amen, dear Jesus, let it be according to that word. I wonder that ever your heart should be cast down, if ye believe this truth. I and they are not worthy at Jesus Christ, who will not suffer forty years trouble for Him, since they have such glorious promises. But we fools believe those promises as the man that read Plato's writings concerning the immortality of the soul: so long as the book was in his hand he believed all was true, and that the soul could not die; but so soon as he laid by the book, he began to imagine that the soul is but a smoke or airy vapor, that perisheth with the expiring of the breath. So we at starts do assent to the sweet and precious promises; but, laying aside God's book, we begin to call all in question. It is faith indeed to believe without a pledge, and to hold the heart constant at this work; and when we doubt, to run to the Law and to the Testimony, and stay there. Madam, hold you here: here is your Father's testament -- read it; in it He hath left you remission of sins and life everlasting. If all that you have in this world be crosses and troubles, down-castings, frequent desertions and departures of the Lord, still He purposeth to do you good at your latter end, and to give you rest from the days of adversity.
A Prayer for Lent, a Prayer Forever
A Prayer of St. Thomas More Give me the grace, Good LordTo set the world at naught. To set the mind firmly on You and not to hang upon the words of men's mouths.
To be content to be solitary. Not to long for worldly pleasures. Little by little utterly to cast off the world and rid my mind of all its business.
Not to long to hear of earthly things, but that the hearing of worldly fancies may be displeasing to me.
Gladly to be thinking of God, piteously to call for His help. To lean into the comfort of God. Busily to labor to love Him.
To know my own vileness and wretchedness. To humble myself under the mighty hand of God. To bewail my sins and, for the purging of them, patiently to suffer adversity.
Gladly to bear my purgatory here. To be joyful in tribulations. To walk the narrow way that leads to life.
To have the last thing in remembrance. To have ever before my eyes my death that is ever at hand. To make death no stranger to me. To foresee and consider the everlasting fire of Hell. To pray for pardon before the judge comes.
To have continually in mind the passion that Christ suffered for me. For His benefits unceasingly to give Him thanks.
To buy the time again that I have lost. To abstain from vain conversations. To shun foolish mirth and gladness. To cut off unnecessary recreations.
Of worldly substance, friends, liberty, life and all, to set the loss at naught, for the winning of Christ.
To think my worst enemies my best friends, for the brethren of Joseph could never have done him so much good with their love and favor as they did him with their malice and hatred.
These minds are more to be desired of every man than all the treasures of all the princes and kings, Christian and heathen, were it gathered and laid together all in one heap.
Amen
Praised be Jesus Christ, Lord, Redeemer, Savior, and good friend, who with the Father through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit has given us so many great and worthy models to follow. Grant that I may ever follow the path so clearly laid out by them--eyes fixed eternally on the Glory of the Crucified.
Amen
Poor Judas
Luke 22:1-6 especially verse 3.
Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot who was of the number of the twelve.
Poor Judas--weak and broken vessel--most cracked in an assemblage of broken crockery. Even among those closest to the savior, Satan seemed to have his own way. Peter and Judas that we know of, James and John in the Garden, and who knows what we have not heard in the Gospel stories. But Judas worst off of all. Dante has him with Cassius and Brutus occupying the three mouths of Satan, Judas eternally head-in.
And I am so like him. My price is so low. Would I betray Christ for thirty silver pieces? A ridiculous question both in mood and tense. The answer is I have betrayed Him for far less that that. When I speak harshly to someone because my own pride is wounded, is that worth 30 silver pieces? When I ignore the plight of the poor, when I eat more than I need to live, when I lie and cheat to gain my own paltry ends, when I commit any of the hundred or thousand greater or lesser infractions of the day--am I not also rejecting the love of One who wishes more than anything for me to see what Love is? No, I am less that Judas, less than the traitor who surrendered the Lord. Driven by greed, disapppointment, confusion, and who knows what other motives--he at least once loved and listened to the Lord. And the despair of his terrible death suggests that at least he truly regretted the terrible thing he had done. More often than not, I do not regret. It takes enormous work and thought to bring me to a single moment of contrition. God has to work overtime on my hardened heart to move it a single beat closer to His own.
Poor Judas
betrayer of the Lord--
and yet I am less than the dirt
beneath his feet!
Would I ever have chosen to serve
the peripatetic Lord?
This perambulating savior?
If you, poor Judas, are in a place to do so,
please pray for me that I avoid
future instances of our terrible crime.
Amen.
Oh, Those Lenten Regulations
Father Jim writes at the end of an excellent piece on Lenten penances,"Remember, too, that Sundays don't count for Lenten penances (Sundays all being little Easters, as it were). So, you can have your sambuca and listen to your CD collection all you want on those days. And don't let any Jansenist tell you otherwise."
I've always known this, but I've never practiced it largely because I am a very unreliable person in practices. It takes at least three weeks of hard practice to make a habit. I know Lent is not about making habits, but if I break the fast every seventh day, then, reasons my unreasonable mind, why not every sixth? every fiftth? every fourth? every other? etc. So due to the frailness of my human condition, I do not take advantage of the "little Easters." They function for me, unfortunately, as little temptations to observe no practice for the season of Lent.
My Prayer
God's will
first
last
always
in my life,
in my family,
in the world,
in all who meet me,
in all that I do.
God's will and His will alone.
With Mary,
I say,
Let it be done unto me as You have said.
God's will be done, perfectly and always.
In saecula saeculorum.
Amen.
Another Celtic Treat
Stumbled upon as I was trying to rectify the situation with the link below--a bilingual Táin Bó Cúalnge or Cattle Raid of Cooley--the epic of Cuchulain and Queen Mebd--NOT for children.
See the Carmina Gadelica
Link via Dylan, a compendium of Gaelic prayers with English translations--here.
An example below:
THE GUIDING LIGHT OF ETERNITY O God, who broughtst me from the rest of last night Unto the joyous light of this day, Be Thou bringing me from the new light of this day Unto the guiding light of eternity. Oh! from the new light of this day Unto the guiding light of eternity.
Lenten Reading
Once again I shall be reading Fr. Richard John Neuhaus's magnificent Death on a Friday Afternoon and St. Thomas More's The Sorrows of Christ as well as the Catena Aurea for the Passion Narratives in the New Edition by the IVP (comes in 4 volumes of which I believe 3 are available--I'm pretty sure I have Matthew, Mark, and Luke). Perhaps more, but unlikely.
Reminder
Today is a day of fasting and praying requested by the Holy Father for the intention of a just peace in the Middle East. In addition, I doubt it would cause any great tremor in heaven if we were to add to that intentions for Peace in the "far East" and peace in the hearts of each person we meet today, peace in the heart of every family, and ultimately peace in the heart of the world. But only on God's terms.
Online Retreat at the New Gasparian
Thank God for online priests. Our own Father Keyes C PP S grants us the grace of an online retreat with reflections and meditations on some of the writing of St. Gaspar.
Another Perspective
From The Mary Site--Marian Poetry for Lent.
Communion of Reparation (for Our Lady of Sorrows)Great as the sea is thy sorrow
O wide expanse of lonely gray,
endless to sight
and deep beyond the sounding
of our shallow hearts,
how can we comfort thee?Great as the sea, and silent
as a morning after storm.
O quietness
beside the shore's wild wreckage,
O grief-worn waters,
what comfort can we bring?O great like the sea, and profound!
O great, and as the sea, so stilled!
O Sorrow of Mary,
the infinite Heart of God alone
can comfort thee.Sr. Mary Julian Baird, R.S.M.
Catholic World - Page 21. Volume 181.
April 1955
Another Memorial of the Day
Ash WednesdayT. S. Eliot
IBecause I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing againBecause I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoiceAnd pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon usBecause these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
Find the whole poem here
Entering into Lent
from Parochial and Plain Sermons John Henry Cardinal NewmanSermon 7. The Duty of Self-denial
"Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, as a child that is weaned of his mother: my soul is even as a weaned child." Psalm cxxxi. 2.
{86} SELF-DENIAL of some kind or other is involved, as is evident, in the very notion of renewal and holy obedience. To change our hearts is to learn to love things which we do not naturally love—to unlearn the love of this world; but this involves, of course, a thwarting of our natural wishes and tastes. To be righteous and obedient implies self-command; but to possess power we must have gained it; nor can we gain it without a vigorous struggle, a persevering warfare against ourselves. The very notion of being religious implies self-denial, because by nature we do not love religion.Self-denial, then, is a subject never out of place in Christian teaching; still more appropriate is it at a time like this, when we have entered upon the forty days of Lent, the season of the year set apart for fasting and humiliation. {87}
This indeed is not all that is meant by self-denial; but before proceeding with the subject, I would ask whether the generality of mankind go as far as this: it is plain that they do not. They do not go so far as to realize to themselves that religious obedience involves a thwarting of those wishes and inclinations which are natural to them. They do not like to be convinced, much less will they act upon the notion, that religion is difficult. You may hear men of the world say plainly, and as if in the way of argument, "that God will not punish us for indulging the passions with which we are born; that it is no praise to be unnatural; and no crime to be a man." This, however, may seem an extreme case; yet are there not a great many decent and respectable men, as far as outward character goes, who at least fix their thoughts on worldly comfort, as the greatest of goods, and who labour to place themselves in easy circumstances, under the notion that, when they can retire from the business of their temporal calling, then they may (in a quiet, unexceptionable way of course) consult their own tastes and likings, take their pleasure, and indulge themselves in self-importance and self-satisfaction, in the enjoyment of wealth, power, distinction, popularity, and credit? I am not at this moment asking whether such indulgences are in themselves allowable or not, but whether the life which centres in them does not imply the absence of any very deep views of sanctification as a process, a change, a painful toil, of {88} working out our own salvation with fear and trembling, of preparing to meet our God, and waiting for the judgment? You may go into mixed society; you will hear men conversing on their friend's prospects, openings in trade, or realized wealth, on his advantageous situation, the pleasant connexions he has formed, the land he has purchased, the house he has built; then they amuse themselves with conjecturing what this or that man's property may be, where he lost, where he gained, his shrewdness, or his rashness, or his good fortune in this or that speculation. Observe, I do not say that such conversation is wrong; I do not say that we must always have on our lips the very thoughts which are deepest in our hearts, or that it is safe to judge of individuals by such speeches; but when this sort of conversation is the customary standard conversation of the world, and when a line of conduct answering to it is the prevalent conduct of the world (and this is the case), is it not a grave question for each of us, as living in the world, to ask himself what abiding notion we have of the necessity of self-denial, and how far we are clear of the danger of resembling that evil generation which "ate and drank, which married wives, and were given in marriage, which bought and sold, planted, and builded, till it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all?" [Luke xvii. 27-29.]
Get the entire sermon here.
Susurrat iniquitas. . .
ad impium in medio cordio eius
non est timor Dei ante oculos eius.
Quoniam blanditur ipsi in conspectu eius
ut non inveniat iniquitatem suam et oderit.
Inquity whispers deep in the heart of the wicked,
"There is no need to fear God."
He flatters himself, certain that his sin
cannot be discovered and despised.
(Not a translation--a interpretation)
Lord have Mercy.
Some Promising News
From one of the couples for whom we are praying for employment very promising news--it appears that God has come through. More when things are more certain as to actual disposition, but keep praying.
On the other hand, please redouble your efforts for Gordon and his family--still nothing and disaster piles on calamity for them. Please pray. Thanks.
Also please continue to pray for one couple struggling through a very difficult time and working through numerous problems. Thanks.
Titus Brandsma on Thérèse
Here without further ado, the Blessed Titus Brandsma on St. Thérèse.
Practice of the Presence of GodIn the first place surely, comes her desire to converse with God, to lead a higher life for and through Him. She thoroughly understands that the living God who fills heaven and earth, and at the same time dwells in our innermost heart must be the object of our thoughts and love. Most striking in her life is, therefore, her living in God's presence. She may justly repeat the words of Elias the Prophet: "God lives and I stand before His face." To strengthen this in her mind she fostered the devotion to the Holy Face, called herself after it, pictured it for herself. It was an unsurpassed means, not only to see God as man, but to ascend through His Manhood to the Deity, and to live in the bosom of the Trinity as He had lived there from eternity.
For Fans of P.G. Wodehouse--Some Rarer Works in Online Editions
Including The Swoop! Or How Clarence Saved England. Check this index for other works.
Another Wonderful Text Site
The West Midlands Literary Heritage Site has a number of texts by at least one fairly prominent writer who chronicled life in the West Midlands--Arnold Bennett. Enjoy, if you are so inclined.
Answers
Saturday sermonizers:
The first, in black is indeed Charles Kingsley as guessed by two bloggers.
The next two, in blue, are John Wesley--a marvelous expositor of some of the truths of the Bible, a thoughtful and perceptive critic, and from all accounts, a remarkably holy man. The more I learn about him, the more I am inclined to like him.
First and Last,
1. As Ms. vonHuben observed, this is the first line of Shirley Jackson's remarkable Haunting of Hill House.
2. As Dylan so rightfully noted this is Hermann Hesse's Magister Ludi; or The Glass Bead Game, first line
3. First line, Stephen King, Carrie
4. Last line, Ray Bradbury Fahrenheit 451
5. First Line, Theodore Dreiser An American Tragedy
6. Last line, Thomas Hardy, Far From the Madding Crown
7. First Line, Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
8. Last line, Ian Fleming, Thunderball
9. First line, Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep
10. Last line, William Golding, Lord of the Flies
And so, to quote Prospero,
"Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,"
Plans for Lent
I have read elsewhere of the plans several people have to abandon blogging for Lent. This can be commendable. I see no spiritual advantage to doing so, and therefore shall not do so this year. That is not to say that it may not happen in the future. But many times writing for the blog takes and causes a great deal of thought and prayer that I would otherwise not expend in this fashion. I look upon blogging as an additional outlet for spiritual reflection and refreshment--but then, my blog is somewhat differently oriented than those that I have read suggesting they may have a haitus. I do not dwell on news of the world, and for the the most part have no interest in it on blogs. What I am most fascinated by are the personal "takes" on news of the world--because people are endlessly fascinating, endlessly wonderful, endlessly remarkable.
Later, on further reflection: Perhaps I shall, after all, join them.
Hints for the Sermonizers
Saturday sermon hints. The one is black is not Newman, but if you think about Newman, you'll probably figure this out. None of the three is Catholic. The ones in blue are from the 18th century and the great religious awakenings taking place then.
One of My Heroes
Whether we like it or not, the reality is that Maryland rapidly became a failed experiment in religious toleration--a mere ten years after the colony's founding, movements were already afoot to add anti-Catholic laws to the books.
The real foundation of religious freedom was set, completely and solidly in Pennsylvania upon the foundation of Quakerism and William Penn himself. He is, therefore, one of my great heroes. In addition, despite being Protestant, there are some weird similiarities between Catholics and Quakers. I tend to think of Quakers as the predominant mystical sect of Protestantism.
And now, all that mumbo-jumbo out of the way--
from Fruits of Solitude--Personal Cautions William Penn295. Reflect without Malice but never without Need.
296. Despise no Body, nor no Condition; lest it come to be thine own.
297. Never Rail nor Taunt. The one is Rude, the other Scornful, and both Evil.
298. Be not provoked by Injuries, to commit them.
299. Upbraid only Ingratitude.
300. Haste makes Work which Caution prevents.
301. Tempt no Man; lest thou fall for it.
Well, This Puts Not Too Fine a Point On It
LOVE'S SERVILE LOT St. Robert Southwell S. J.LOVE, mistress is of many minds,
Yet few know whom they serve ;
They reckon least how little Love
Their service doth deserve.The will she robbeth from the wit,
The sense from reason's lore ;
She is delightful in the rind,
Corrupted in the core.She shroudeth vice in virtue's veil,
Pretending good in ill ;
She offereth joy, affordeth grief,
A kiss where she doth kill.A honey-shower rains from her lips,
Sweet lights shine in her face ;
She hath the blush of virgin mind,
The mind of viper's race.She makes thee seek, yet fear to find
To find, but not enjoy :
In many frowns some gliding smiles
She yields to more annoy.She woos thee to come near her fire,
Yet doth she draw it from thee ;
Far off she makes thy heart to fry,
And yet to freeze within thee.She letteth fall some luring baits
For fools to gather up ;
Too sweet, too sour, to every taste
She tempereth her cup.Soft souls she binds in tender twist,
Small flies in spinner's web ;
She sets afloat some luring streams,
But makes them soon to ebb.Her watery eyes have burning force ;
Her floods and flames conspire :
Tears kindle sparks, sobs fuel are,
And sighs do blow her fire.May never was the month of love,
For May is full of flowers ;
But rather April, wet by kind,
For love is full of showers.Like tyrant, cruel wounds she gives,
Like surgeon, salve she lends ;
But salve and sore have equal force,
For death is both their ends.With soothing words enthralled souls
She chains in servile bands ;
Her eye in silence hath a speech
Which eye best understands.Her little sweet hath many sours,
Short hap immortal harms ;
Her loving looks are murd'ring darts,
Her song bewitching charms.Like winter rose and summer ice,
Her joys are still untimely ;
Before her Hope, behind Remorse :
Fair first, in fine unseemly.Moods, passions, fancy's jealous fits
Attend upon her train :
She yieldeth rest without repose,
And heaven in hellish pain.Her house is Sloth, her door Deceit,
And slippery Hope her stairs ;
Unbashful Boldness bids her guests,
And every vice repairs.Her diet is of such delights
As please till they be past ;
But then the poison kills the heart
That did entice the taste.Her sleep in sin doth end in wrath,
Remorse rings her awake ;
Death calls her up, Shame drives her out,
Despairs her upshot make.Plough not the seas, sow not the sands,
Leave off your idle pain ;
Seek other mistress for your minds,
Love's service is in vain.
Guess Again
Correct answers to numbers one and two below. And now some hints. They are all very famous works. Except for number 6, they are all twentieth century. Numbers 3, 4, 8, and depending on how you look at it 9 come from popular fiction. Numbers 7 and 10 are by Nobel Laureates. Of course, it may be premature for hints as I've only had my Late Sunday crowd through, and that is significantly diminished numbers. I'm sure when Melissa breezes through we'll have a majority of the answers.
Beginning or end.
Author, Work, and first or last line.
1. No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. (bonus, supply the last line)
2. (EASY)IT is OUR intention to preserve in these pages what scant biographical material we have been able to collect concerning Joseph Knecht, or Ludi Magister Josephus III, as he is called in the Archives of the Glass Bead Game.
3. It was reliably reported by several persons that a rain of stones fell from a clear blue sky on Carlin Street in the town of Chamberlain on August 17th.
4. . . .that's the one I'll save for noon. For noon…When we reach the city.
5. Dusk--of a summer night.
And the tall walls of the commercial heart of an American city of perhaps 400,000 inhabitants--such walls as in time may linger as a mere fable.
6. ‘Ephraim is joined to idols: let him alone.’ But since ’tis as ’tis why, it might have been worse, and I feel my thanks accordingly.”
7.In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains.
8.Then she gave a small sigh, pulled the pillow to the edge of the bed so that it was just above him, laid her head down so that she could see him whenever she wanted to, and closed her eyes. ( A guilty pleasure)
9. IT WAS ABOUT ELEVEN O'CLOCK in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills.
10. The officer, surrounded by these noises, was moved and a little embarrassed. He turned away to give them time to pull themselves together; and waited, allowing his eyes to rest on the trim cruiser in the distance.
Quite a mixed bag this. Hopefully something for everyone.