This weeks efforts:
Thomas wanted reality.
Thomas wanted answers.
Thomas wanted undeniable proof.
He trusted his mind.
He trusted his senses.
He walked by sight,
But feared to trust
The witnesses of Resurrection.
A God, with wounds of Love, understood.
A God, marked by our disbelief,
Stood before him,
In plain sight.
Thomas finger my wounds.
Feel the warmth of human flesh.
Feel the throbbing of My Heart,
Bounding against
Your hand in My Side.
Thomas, you sought only
The trappings of reality.
Am I real now,
Real enough for you,
My friend?
Standing, face to face,
Before I Am,
Bought to his knees
By living, breathing, proof,
He stands in our place.
Humbled by faith’s awakening,
Before the True Witness,
Senses satisfied,
Content, now, and forever,
He’ll follow blindly,
Unto death,
Into eternity.
“My Lord and my God.”
Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved
There is a delicacy of old
With which men speak to one another.
Though, approaching from the farthest ends,
Never meeting in the middle,
Yet, do they honor one another,
In their humanity.
They offer the gift of presence,
Gifting to the other
An open ear
That wills to hear.
To do the Good
For the sake of Good,
To forge the best of thought
For presentation at the gate
Is the beginning of our holy end.
Though all men be wrong
In varying degrees,
There is something right
In putting down one’s arms
To meet as warring friends,
In hope and trust
That they serve a higher call,
When men do speak of peace.
Who is honored by this respect,
If not the Maker of all Men,
Who alone can change
Hearts of stone to flesh,
Becoming like unto His own.
©2011 Joann Nelander
Just the thing for Passion Tide.
When I was writing about Lent, an odd theme kept cropping up: relationships. It seemed off–I grew up associating Lent with repentance, sorrow and fasting. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the purpose of repentance, sorrow and fasting is to mend the broken relationship with God. I came to understand Lent as a journey, one foot in front of the other, on a path that leads to intimacy with Him.
As I thought about mending relationship with God, I kept thinking about other relationships that need healing and strengthening. I kept thinking about how our love for God is measured by our love for others. And I thought of one of my sisters, with whom childhood was a perpetual battle of unkindness, and how, in young adulthood, our unresolved childhood angst piled up until we had a huge fight and didn’t speak…
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You are inconvenient Truth.
I want to believe myself alive.
I tout myself spiritual.
You are the spoiler
In the midst
Of my presumptions.
I run with the world
And You fish for me.
Cast your net after me.
I duck the toss,
Scamper out of reach.
Though its weave
Be that of Love,
It’s warp be reason,
Faith the weft
That elevates,
I fear your net as chains.
If I only knew
Who it is
Who is constantly
Trolling the Deep
To save me.
If I could see
That I am blinded
In the chaos.
Trapped in ancient lies,
Ensnared in deception’s trenches.
Tides and currents,
Direct my movement.
I am not free.
I flow
Caught in the embrace
Of the masses,
Pitiful humanity,
Chained by tumultuous sensation ,
And arrogant bravado,
Regardless of Truth’s freedom.
Relentless Pursuer,
Plot the routes of my escape
To wait for me
In the shallows
And guide me.
Then encircled
By Your arms,
Lift me beyond myself.
Deliver me, O, Fisher
From the waters
In which I drown.
Draw me up
To Yourself
Separating the flotsam,
And jetsam,
Counting me Your own.
© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
A man clothed in sin
Walked the long aisle
To stand before the Crucifix.
Long years,
No tears,
He came to say,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give a damn!”
The hardened before the Hallowed,
The clock running down,
Time spent and unreflected,
Deeds done and unrepentant.
Challenged to say the words,
He began,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give…”
Undaunted, he repeated,
“You died for me
And I don’t…..”
Gaze focused
On that bloodied Corpse,
Resolute, again, he began.
“You died for me…”
…….
“You died for me…”
“You died for me!”
Tears, tears,
Rivers of tears,
Years unspent,
And now in flood.
Miracles at the Red Sea,
Yet, none greater
Than the Passover,
One innocent Lamb,
Slain, and yet standing,
Lifted up,
Drawing thee.
© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
MONDAY, 6 AUGUST 2007
Cardinal Lustiger RIP 1926-2007
I didn’t always agree with the former Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, who died yesterday, but his tenure of that see brought a great deal more good than harm, I think. On his watch, the Catholic life of the city gained a huge boost; the new movements revitalized many parishes, and vocations to the priesthood soared. I remember that he habitually celebrated Mass in Notre Dame almost every Sunday evening for the young people who came to that Mass; a great example to the other bishops of France, many of whom are facing the priestly extinction of their dioceses.
I heard a story attributed to him—maybe it is one he told rather than a story about himself (since he himself was a Jewish convert). I was given to understand that the story is a true one.
Two boys were, out of mischief, determined to tease their parish priest, so they went to confession and made up outrageous sins, just to see what the priest would say. The priest, listening to the second boy, realizing that he was being ‘had’, and hurt by the mockery of the sacrament, asked the second lad as a ‘penance’ to go to the crucifix over the tabernacle and shout out loud, three times ‘you died for me, and I don’t give a damn’. The lad did as he was asked; by the third time he was in tears. Some years later, he was ordained a priest.
May Jean-Marie Lustiger rest in peace.
O, Holy Fetus,
One cell, two cells,
Cell upon cell,
You took shape,
Within the Virgin’s womb.
O Holy Child,
Born to die,
You were born in Bethlehem
City of Promise,
But conceived in Nazareth,
Crossroad of sinners,
Now graced
By the Holy.
Cell upon cell,
Grace upon grace,
The Virgin’s
“Fiat”
Alleluia!
Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved
RAnn of This That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnivals , a group of Catholic bloggers who gather weekly to share posts of interest to Catholic bloggers. Join the fun by visiting http://rannthisthat.blogspot.com/2012/03/sunday-snippets-catholic-carnival_24.html and creating your own link as RAnn directs.
This weeks efforts:
In flight
Into Egypt
Hungry,
Hurried,
Yet at peace.
You pass my way.
Because you are holy
We are worlds apart.
Yet you touch me
By your plight.
You must eat.
You must drink.
Rest a moment
Under my tent.
Holy visitors,
Let me wash your feet.
Your smiles
Enter my heart
As a symphony
Stay the night.
Bring the star
From heaven
To light my adobe.
Dwell forever
Here in Spirit
Though you must hurry
On your way.
Journey on,O, Protector,
O Mother, O Child.
With me,
In your hearts,
Now, I wait
For you forever.
I tucked a little rattle
Under His blanket.
Perhaps, He’ll hear me
In the sounds,
A remembrance,
Like a prayer,
In the rattling of beads.
By Joann Nelander
Artist Jon McNaughton has done it again. With his newest release, “One Nation Under Socialism,” McNaughton has taken his personal one-artist’s crusade to expose the real Obama agenda to a new level….
Holy Love
March 20, 2012
Public
Blessed Mother says: "Praise be to Jesus."
"I am about to advise you concerning the resolution of the last Marian Dogma, and why Heaven asks for prayers toward this end. Once this Handmaid of the Lord is officially accepted as Mediatrix, Co-Redemptrix and Advocate, the Spirit of Peace will pass over the world. Every heart will be pervaded by Truth. It is at that moment in time souls will need to decide either for Truth or against it."
"Truth will be as a winnowing fan separating the chaff from the grain. All error will be exposed to the Light. Enmity will transform to friendship."
"I tell you these things now so that no one can say they did not recognize what was taking place. No one can discount the events as they occur and lose the opportunity for conversion of heart."
"Pay attention!"
Be, O Lord, the Sun in me.
Despite, my clouds,
Masking Your Beauty,
Be seen as light invisible,
Going forth, in the Spirit,
To the world,
A world in need of Revelation.
Pierce the veil of my travail.
Linger long to suffer my malaise,
My unsettled wine.
By grace, bless me,
As you bless those
Blind to Your Presence in me.
Sacrament and penance,
My claim upon Your Heart.
Light, undiminished,
Under my bushel,
Burning bright within my core,
Make of me a lampstand,
In Your Father’s House.
Be, O, Lord,
The Sun in Me,
To a world in need of illumination.
Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved
RAnn of This That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnivals , a group of Catholic bloggers who gather weekly to share posts of interest to Catholic bloggers. Join the fun by visiting This That and the Other Thing and creating your own link as RAnn directs.
This weeks efforts:
You, the indwelling God of the faithful,
Have called me
"The apple of Your eye",
Look, therefore,
Out upon my world,
And bless those about me,
Good and bad.
Bless them not,
Because I see and intercede,
But because You see,
And, beholding their misery,
Reach out.
Being that You are Compassion,
Change my world,
Person by person,
Day by day.
See through me,
As the pupil of Your eye.
Use me as Your window
On my world.
Your Presence in me
Is as the Sun in the heavens,
Shining out,
And penetrating even the clouds
I place in Your way.
"In Your Light,
We see Light. "
Copyright Joann Nelander 2011
All rights reserved
Pick me up, dear Mother
Your visit means so much to me.
O, how I need a mother.
I gaze at your image,
And you engrave it on my heart.
The beating of my heart,
Reminds me of my mortality,
And how you were
At a moment in time, Mary,
The young virgin with Child, in Nazareth,
Living life on earth
As I do now.
O, how I wish to live
In your purity
And simplicity of heart.
Here I am
At your feet in supplication,
Pleading peace,
That I might live
In the spirit of Shalom.
Here is my kiss.
Remember me,
As You gaze on your Son.
Engrave my name upon His heart,
As your fire of love blazes
In His presence.
I am love,
Awaiting the embrace of Love.
Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
At the moment
You lift Your saintly friends
From the Earth,
And plant them
In the Heaven of Your Being,
At that precious moment,
And by that fateful act,
You endow upon
The sons and daughters
Of Your Covenant,
Remaining in this world,
More, not less.
When Your friends
Journey forth,
All the Earth
Is, henceforth, blessed,
And not, otherwise,
Disposed or deprived.
As Your Servants,
Enter Your Realms of Light,
Their charisms become infinite,
In their capacity to bless.
When the smallest of the small
Cries out,
In the name of Your forever Friends,
These other Christs
Answer with Your power to succor.
In the Now of Your Essence,
They share Your Glory.
In Heaven,
There is only one glory,
Which cannot increase.
United to You,
Who, are unchanging,
This new rain falls to
the Earth,
And it’s consenting
creatures, here,
Can and do change,
In the shower
Of Your abundant dew fall.
We are, henceforth,
The beneficiaries of new riches,
Streaming from Your Side,
The Door, by which Your saints
Entered Eternity.
Glory upon glory falls,
As golden droplets,
Upon the land
Of sunrise and sunset.
Your gifts do not cease
With the death
Of those who are Yours.
Heaven is united to earth,
And in the celebration
Of their new birth,
Rejoices.
©2012 Joann Nelander
At the moment
You lift Your saintly friends
From the Earth,
And plant them
In the Heaven of Your Being,
At that precious moment,
And by that fateful act,
You endow
The sons and daughters
Of Your Covenant,
Remaining in this world,
With more,
Not less.
When Your friends
Journey forth,
All the Earth
Is, henceforth, blessed,
And not, otherwise,
Disposed or deprived.
As Your Servants,
Enter Your Realms of Light,
Their charisms become infinite,
In their capacity to bless.
When the smallest of the small
Cries out,
In the name of Your forever Friends,
These other Christs
Answer with Your power to succor.
In the Now of Your Essence,
They share Your Glory.
In Heaven,
There is only one glory,
Which cannot increase.
United to You,
Who, are unchanging,
This new rain falls to
the Earth,
And it’s consenting
creatures, here,
Can and do change,
In the shower
Of Your abundant dew fall.
We are, henceforth,
The beneficiaries of new riches,
Streaming from Your Side,
The Door, by which Your saints
Entered Eternity.
Glory upon glory
Falls,
As golden droplets,
Upon the land
Of sunrise and sunset.
Your gifts do not cease
With the death
Of those who are Yours.
Heaven is united to earth,
And in the celebration
Of their new birth,
Rejoices.
©2012 Joann Nelander
From the treatise on Flight from the World by Saint Ambrose, bishop
Hold fast to God, the one true good
Where a man’s heart is, there is his treasure also. God is not accustomed to refusing a good gift to those who ask for one. Since he is good, and especially to those who are faithful to him, let us hold fast to him with all our soul, our heart, our strength, and so enjoy his light and see his glory and possess the grace of supernatural joy. Let us reach out with our hearts to possess that good, let us exist in it and live in it, let us hold fast to it, that good which is beyond all we can know or see and is marked by perpetual peace and tranquillity, a peace which is beyond all we can know or understand.
This is the good that permeates creation. In it we all live, on it we all depend. It has nothing above it; it is divine. No one is good but God alone. What is good is therefore divine, what is divine is therefore good. Scripture says: When you open your hand all things will be filled with goodness. It is through God’s goodness that all that is truly good is given us, and in it there is no admixture of evil.
These good things are promised by Scripture to those who are faithful: The good things of the land will be your food.
We have died with Christ. We carry about in our bodies the sign of his death, so that the living Christ may also be revealed in us. The life we live is not now our ordinary life but the life of Christ: a life of sinlessness, of chastity, of simplicity and every other virtue. We have risen with Christ. Let us live in Christ, let us ascend in Christ, so that the serpent may not have the power here below to wound us in the heel.
Let us take refuge from this world. You can do this in spirit, even if you are kept here in the body. You can at the same time be here and present to the Lord. Your soul must hold fast to him, you must follow after him in your thoughts, you must tread his ways by faith, not in outward show. You must take refuge in him. He is your refuge and your strength. David addresses him in these words: I fled to you for refuge, and I was not disappointed.
Since God is our refuge, God who is in heaven and above the heavens, we must take refuge from this world in that place where there is peace, where there is rest from toil, where we can celebrate the great sabbath, as Moses said: The sabbaths of the land will provide you with food. To rest in the Lord and to see his joy is like a banquet, and full of gladness and tranquillity.
Let us take refuge like deer beside the fountain of waters. Let our soul thirst, as David thirsted, for the fountain. What is that fountain? Listen to David: With you is the fountain of life. Let my soul say to this fountain: When shall I come and see you face to face? For the fountain is God himself.
For a wonderful prayer experience and daily prayer encouragement visit Divine Office.org
So what is the Liturgy of the Hours?
The Liturgy of the Hours is the prayer of the whole People of God. In it, Christ himself “continues his priestly work through his Church.” His members participate according to their own place in the Church and the circumstances of their lives. The laity, too, are encouraged to recite the divine office either with the priests, among themselves, or individually.
The celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours demands not only harmonizing the voice with the praying heart, but also a deeper “understanding of the liturgy and of the Bible, especially of the Psalms.”
The hymns and litanies of the Liturgy of the Hours integrate the prayer of the psalms into the age of the Church, expressing the symbolism of the time of day, the liturgical season, or the feast being celebrated. Moreover, the reading from the Word of God at each Hour with the subsequent responses or troparia and readings from the Fathers and spiritual masters at certain Hours, reveal the deeper meanings of the mystery being celebrated, assist in understanding the psalms, and help one prepare for silent prayer. The lectio divina, where the Word of God is so read and meditated that it becomes prayer, is thus rooted in the liturgical celebration.
The Liturgy of the Hours, which is like an extension of the Eucharistic celebration, does not exclude but rather (in a complementary way) calls forth the various devotions of the People of God, especially adoration and worship of the Blessed Sacrament.
The worship “in Spirit and in truth” of the New Covenant is not tied exclusively to any one place. The whole earth is sacred and entrusted to the children of men. What matters above all is that, when the faithful assemble in the same place, they are the “living stones,” gathered to be “built into a spiritual house.” The Body of the risen Christ is the spiritual temple from which the source of living water emanates. Incorporated into Christ by the Holy Spirit, “we are the temple of the living God.”
Source: Catechism of the Catholic Church, Part Two, Section One, Chapter Two.
My many sins
Have gone up in flames,
And all that is left,
You deem holy.
©2012 Joann Nelander
Who has died and gone to the side of Christ,
That does not make intercession,
For all the people
He has failed in life?
Who can stand in Purgatory’s flame,
And cease to cry out
For loved ones
Left in Time?
God hears the cry of the poor,
And who is poorer
Than the abandoned,
And detained at the threshold of Heaven,
Awaiting the forgiveness of those,
Who are careless of their fate?
No one goes to Heaven alone.
The cleansed and the holy,
Grab the tassles
Of your prayer shawl.
Lower your eyes.
Beat your breast.
Forget yourself.
Remember the family of God.
Together let us
Praise the Living God,
Who waits in Mercy for mercy,
For He calls all
To be His own.
©2012 Joann Nelander
Heavenly Mother,
It is told,
You allowed a leper babe,
To be washed in your Baby’s bath,
And, immediately, the infant was healed,
His skin, supple and pink,
By an act of God,
A miraculous gift.
Plunge those forgotten in life,
Into that water of refreshment,
In which, to remove the dust of the world,
You bathed your Babe.
It is God, Who hears,
The cry of the poor.
God, Who, is not far off.
He sent His Christ,
To enter that sea,
The Jordan of Man’s Sin.
One day, it’s waters
Would wash the multitudes,
And it’s streams
Flow over the Ages.
God, indeed, hears
The cry of the poor,
As He heard the wail
Of the leper babe.
“This is my beloved Son.”,
He announces in loving unity,
As an open invitation for us to enter in,
And lay our claim in holy hope.
Mother, do for the disabled,
What they cannot
Do for themselves.
Meet us in our leprosy,
And, bathing us, say
With the Father,
“This is my son,
In whom I am well pleased.”
© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
Forsaking the Land of Shadows, yet again,
And prostrate before You,
I enter with my candle,
Wick, barely alive,
Smoldering,
Awaiting the gentle breeze,
That will kindle my flame
To blaze forth, anew.
Praise rises in my soul,
As a lifetime of thanks given,
Recall to memory
The reason for my trust.
Can Faith be called blind,
When a thousand thousand yesterdays
Form the foundation of our friendship?
Now, I look upon You,
Upon the Altar of Adoration.
Beauty captures my attention.
The monstrance, a delight to my eye,
All aglow,
As it catches the early rays of morning.
Golden shafts stream from its center,
Whispering “Glory.”
The pedestal,
Ornate with pomegranates, grapes and lilies,
Celebrate the gift of Your Creation.
Yet, You, in Your splendid Humility,
Reside in true beauty, Unadorned, and at rest,
Your work accomplished,
Awaiting only my disfigurement.
What will You with me?
Transfigure in longed for alchemy of Spirit.
By heartfelt confession and remorse,
At Your Word,
Spoken in Persona Christi,
I wash my robes clean
In the Blood of the Lamb.
You do not horde Your beauty,
But send it forth,
To renew all creation,
And, forgetting not the least,
Remember me.
Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
From a commentary on the psalms by Saint Augustine, bishop
The passion of the whole body of Christ
Lord, I have cried to you, hear me. This is a prayer we can all say. This is not my prayer, but that of the whole Christ. Rather, it is said in the name of his body. When Christ was on earth he prayed in his human nature, and prayed to the Father in the name of his body, and when he prayed drops of blood flowed from his whole body. So it is written in the Gospel: Jesus prayed with earnest prayer, and sweated blood. What is this blood streaming from his whole body but the martyrdom of the whole Church?
Lord, I have cried to you, hear me; listen to the sound of my prayer, when I call upon you. Did you imagine that crying was over when you said: I have cried to you? You have cried out, but do not as yet feel free from care. If anguish is at an end, crying is at an end; but if the Church, the body of Christ, must suffer anguish until the end of time, it must not say only: I have cried to you, hear me; it must also say: Listen to the sound of my prayer, when I call upon you.
Let my prayer rise like incense in your sight; let the raising of my hands be an evening sacrifice.
This is generally understood of Christ, the head, as every Christian acknowledges. When day was fading into evening, the Lord laid down his life on the cross, to take it up again; he did not lose his life against his will. Here, too, we are symbolized. What part of him hung on the cross if not the part he had received from us? How could God the Father ever cast off and abandon his only Son, who is indeed one God with him? Yet Christ, nailing our weakness to the cross (where, as the Apostle says: Our old nature was nailed to the cross with him), cried out with the very voice of humanity: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
The evening sacrifice is then the passion of the Lord, the cross of the Lord, the oblation of the victim that brings salvation, the holocaust acceptable to God. In his resurrection he made this evening sacrifice a morning sacrifice. Prayer offered in holiness from a faithful heart rises like incense from a holy altar. Nothing is more fragrant than the fragrance of the Lord. May all who believe share in this fragrance.
Therefore, our old nature, in the words of the Apostle, was nailed to the cross with him, in order, as he says, to destroy our sinful body, so that we may be slaves to sin no longer.
Into Stillness 