Sunday Snippets – A Catholic Carnival

RAnn of  This That and the Other Thing  hosts  Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. Click to find out how to submit your favorite posts of the past week.

Join or simply read what other Catholics are thinking and saying.

My Christmas and New Years efforts:

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Forget Not

Clinging

Blossom in the Desert

Babe of All Perfection

Listening to Love

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander

Forget Not

As I walk in Your house,
May I never forget You are Master,
Lord of this domain.

May my thoughts
Spring as fruit upon the vine.
Sustain me, O my Beloved,
With the Bread of angels.

Hallowed Ground of my New Birth,
Give me Your heavenly Water,
That I may never thirst again.
Let it rise within me,
As an eternal spring,
And let it fall from heaven,
Like those “torrents
In the southern desert,”

Sheltered in Your arms,
Covered by the corner of Your mantle,
Fed by the Manna of Your Heavenly Body,
Who could forget to sing You songs of Love?

Copyright 2011 Joann Nelander

Obedience

Today the Church sings, “Come, let us worship Christ, the Son of God, who was obedient to Mary and Joseph.”

My heart is singing , too, for as these words entered my soul, up sprang joy. Here within me was the path Jesus walked as He began life on Earth as the God Man. How can I not follow Him, as I prepare for a brand new year. The Way shows me, in my infancy, His Way. He turns my heart to Mary and Joseph, giving me the gift of loving parents to watch over me, to protect me, and to be all supplication on my behalf.

My happy resolve is to fix my eyes upon them and listen for their voices reverberating within me. My joyful way throughout the New Year will be to obey in imitation of my Christ and King. “Come, let us worship Christ, the Son of God, who was obedient to Mary and Joseph.”

Clinging

Clinging, clinging to You,

As a leaf clasping the vine

With mouth pressed

And soul hungry,

Receiving in its will

Sustenance and vigor.

 

Stress, season, time,

And the tempters three,

World, Devil and fleshy me,

Turn, test and try resolve.

 

Clinging, I cling,

Clasping fast,

For only the glue of love

Suffice as bond,

To quell and conquer,

The wanton, the unruly.

For the Conqueror abides in me,

I cling to the Almighty Three.

 

Copyright 2011 Joann Nelander

 

Poetry Picnic  Week 19

Divine Office

Life itself Was Revealed in the Flesh

From the tractates on the first letter of John by Saint Augustine, bishop
Life itself was revealed in the flesh

Our message is the Word of life. We announce what existed from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our own eyes, what we have touched with our own hands. Who could touch the Word with his hands unless the Word was made flesh and lived among us?

Now this Word, whose flesh was so real that he could be touched by human hands, began to be flesh in the Virgin Mary’s womb; but he did not begin to exist at that moment. We know this from what John says: What existed from the beginning. Notice how John’s letter bears witness to his Gospel, which you just heard a moment ago: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God.

Someone might interpret the phrase the Word of life to mean a word about Christ, rather than Christ’s body itself which was touched by human hands. But consider what comes next: and life itself was revealed. Christ therefore is himself the Word of life.

And how was this life revealed? It existed from the beginning, but was not revealed to men, only to angels, who looked upon it and feasted upon it as their own spiritual bread. But what does Scripture say? Mankind ate the bread of angels.

Life itself was therefore revealed in the flesh. In this way what was visible to the heart alone could become visible also to the eye, and so heal men’s hearts. For the Word is visible to the heart alone, while flesh is visible to bodily eyes as well. We already possessed the means to see the flesh, but we had no means of seeing the Word. The Word was made flesh so that we could see it, to heal the part of us by which we could see the Word.

John continues: And we are witnesses and we proclaim to you that eternal life which was with the Father and has been revealed among us – one might say more simply “revealed to us.”

We proclaim to you what we have heard and seen. Make sure that you grasp the meaning of these words. The disciples saw our Lord in the flesh, face to face; they heard the words he spoke, and in turn they proclaimed the message to us. So we also have heard, although we have not seen.

Are we then less favored than those who both saw and heard? If that were so, why should John add: so that you too may have fellowship with us? They saw, and we have not seen; yet we have fellowship with them, because we and they share the same faith.

And our fellowship is with God the Father and Jesus Christ his Son. And we write this to you to make your joy complete – complete in that fellowship, in that love and in that unity.

Now

Long Now,

Time unending,

Enduring immediacy,

Poorly perceived.

©2011 Joann Nelander

Poetry Picnic  Week 19

Divine Office