Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson, by George...

Alfred Tennyson / Wikipedia

This poem by Alfred Lord  Tennyson seems very appropriate for the New Year -the Advent New Year beginning today.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

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Sunday Snippets — A Catholic Carnival

RAnn of  This,That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets—A Catholic Carnival. Join us or just check out our posts.  This is a great way to share your posts from the past week.

Here are my snippets from the week:

Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Prayer and the Indwelling Christ

A Thousand Little Moments

This Day For God

Reflecting on a Newborn

Christmas Food Court Flash Mob-Hallelujah-video

Christmas Food Court Flash Mob-Hallelujah

Prayer and the Indwelling Christ

Your gaze have made it very easy,
praying that is.
Yet, for such as me,
it’s still very hard,
not seeing You across the table.

Your eyes follow me.
I know You hear me.
“It’s not You, it’s me”,
as faulting lovers say.

Your gaze never leaves me,
I can feel it
in the depths of my being.
I am never alone.

You wait,
as I turn to trifles,
or beat down troublesome giants.
You dwell upon my last words,
feeling my joy or pain
through every season of my soul.

Though my words can stop mid-sentence
or conversation cease,
still You know the whole.
With the patience of eternity, my God waits.

Eventually, I turn back to You.
Your eyes sear my soul,
O, that my heart could return that gaze.

On the best of days,
unless You bind me to You, I flit.
A thousand trumpets vie for my ear
and I am torn.

New love has a magic,
erasing the world, and becoming all.
Re-ignite that flame in me
To shut out causes, fears and strife.

Your Presence felt is strength and consolation,
Your tug is joy
and Your conversation sweetness.
If pain be the messenger
that draws me back to You,
so be it.
Better the torment of an earthly purgatory
than the foretaste of hell.

If it seems I sit at our table alone,
the note of sadness betrays the truth.
I miss you and the missing is from You.
You beckon anew.

Sup with me.
Dwell with me.
Gaze on me.
I am not alone.
My Christ is with me.

By Joann Nelander

I Am Not Alone: Christ Is With Me

A letter of Saint Paul Le-Bao-Tinh

I am not alone: Christ is with me

I, Paul, in chains for the name of Christ, wish to re-late to you the trials besetting me daily, in order that you may be inflamed with love for God and join with me in his praises. The prison here is a true image of everlasting hell: to cruel tortures of every kind – shackles, iron chains, manacles – are added hatred, vengeance, calumnies, obscene speech, quarrels, evil acts, swearing, curses, as well as anguish and grief. But the God who once freed the three children from the fiery furnace is with me always; he has de-livered me from these tribulations and made them sweet,
In the midst of these torments, which usually terrify others, I am, by the grace of God, full of joy and gladness, because I am not alone – Christ is with me.
Our Master bears the whole weight of the cross, leaving me only the tiniest, last bit. He is not a mere onlooker in my struggle, but a contestant and the victor and champion in the whole battle. Therefore upon his head is placed the crown of victory, and his members also share in his glory.
How am I to bear with the spectacle, as each day I see emperors, mandarins, and their retinue blaspheming your holy name, O Lord, Behold, the pagans have trodden your cross underfoot! Where is your glory? As I see all this, I would, in the ardent love I have for you, prefer to be torn limb from limb and to die as a witness to your love.
O Lord, show your power, save me, sustain me, that in my infirmity your power may be shown and may be glorified before the nations; grant that I may not grow weak along the way, and so allow your enemies to hold their heads up in pride.
Beloved brothers, as you hear all these things may you give endless thanks in joy to God, from whom every good proceeds; bless the Lord with me, on his lowly servant and from this day all generations will call me blessed, for to confound the noble. Through my mouth he has confused the philosophers who are disciples of the wise of this world,
I write these things to you in order that your faith and mine may be united. In the midst of this storm I cast 1my anchor toward the throne of God, the anchor that is the lively hope in my heart.
Beloved brothers, for your part put on the and take up as my patron Saint Paul has taught us. than, with all your members intact, to be cast away.
Come to my aid with your prayers, that I may have the strength to fight according to the law, and indeed and to fight until the end and so finish the race. We may not again see each other in this life, but we will have the happiness of seeing each other again in the world to come, when, standing at the throne of the spotless Lamb, we will together join in singing his praises and exult for ever in the joy of our triumph. Amen.

Reflecting on a Newborn

Joy was my initial response
to a day of silence,
more exactly, a day of listening.

The sense I had was of God’s delight.
He was looking on me as we do a newborn,
full of love  and enchantment.
He wanted me to share this delight.
He wanted me to recognize that it was me
who delighted Him.

I had an image in my mind of angels and saints,
those present at the Mass,
passing by and looking on me
as they would a precious newborn.
(I had just consumed the Eucharist.)
Each holy spirit approached,
giving me a blessing I would grow into,
or seen another way,
by which I would grow.

The Father wanted me to know
how much it delighted Him
to see me rise after a fall.
I am a sinner but I will be a saint,
if I allow His love to form me,
and continue to rise after each fall.
It would be nice if my falls were infrequent,
but if they be a thousand,
He would grace me a thousand times,
each time I washed my robe clean
in the blood of Christ,
confessing my sins and beginning anew,
a newborn.

By Joann Nelander

This Day For God

John the Baptist baptizing Christ

Image via Wikipedia

Father, I thank you for this day, this holy day.

As I rise from sleep, may my soul arise, leaving sin to seek Your face.

As I wash in preparation for new day, I recall my Baptism

and the cleansing River of Life that flowed from the side of my Redeemer.

As I clothe my body, I remember the dignity of Christ and the Name by which He calls me.

I am clothed in the robes of a priest to sacrifice with Jesus in my day.

The words of a prophet live on my lips ready to give an account of my hope and joy.

The Kings of Kings proclaims me a king,

and by the power of His throne in heaven,

He rules in my life

and the lives my life touches through all generations.

Through my prayer of faith, covered in humility as the Blood of Christ, angels minister to the people of God,

bringing peace, protection, strength and provision

as I proclaim my “Amen” to His Will and His prayer “Father, forgive them.”

Go before me,Lord. Walk with me, Lord. Be my rearguard, Precious Savior, Warrior King!

You, Who live in me,  suffer in my flesh that which is to be in this hour on Your Cross.

You are “more than a conqueror” as You bring about Your kingdom in this day.

O Love sublime, my life is Thine.

 

By Joann Nelander