To live by faith

[Cinette]

Thought I’d start a different topic still related on how we Catholics live by faith.

As I mentioned before, my very first companions in my Journey were the Jesuits via a book called “Opening to God” by Thomas Green.

In another book (The God of Surprises by Gerald Hughes) I learned imaginative contemplation.

I am not sure if anyone has practiced this as a method of praying the Scripture but when I did the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius, I found this a very good way of meditating on the Gospels. Not all books of the Bible are suitable for this kind of praying but the Gospels and the more narrative books of the OT are.

How I do this is: You read the passage once, pause a few minutes, read the passage again and then meditate on what you’ve read. You try to remember as much of the passage as you can and you situate yourself in the passage. It is not like watching a movie. You actually become a player in the story. And you just let your imagination go from there. You notice the other players expressions, the surroundings etc.

So if you are reading say the Prodigal Son, you become either the younger son, or older son or the Father. It really opens up the passage in a new way. The biggest turning point in my spiritual life was meditating on the Prodigal Son in this way.

Benedictus, Snowy, AveMariaSanta… Have any of you read “The Return of the Prodigal Son” by Henri Nouwen? It is something absolutely wonderful - in fact it is a book to contemplate and not just once! Nouwen starts off by visiting the Museum in Russia where Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son is and he visits it everyday - he is overwhelmed! When he gets back to the States he writes the book. First he writes about the Prodigal Son, then the Brother and then finally the Father.

You find yourself identifying with each character! It is awesome! In fact, I feel the need to read it again. Problem is I lent it to someone and can’t remember who so I will have to purchase it again!

If you haven’t read it I suggest you buy it immediately! It really is the kind of book one needs to have always on one’s bookshelf.

Blessings

 

[benedictus2]

Benedictus, Snowy, AveMariaSanta… Have any of you read “The Return of the Prodigal Son” by Henri Nouwen? It is something absolutely wonderful - in fact it is a book to contemplate and not just once! Nouwen starts off by visiting the Museum in Russia where Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son is and he visits it everyday - he is overwhelmed! When he gets back to the States he writes the book. First he writes about the Prodigal Son, then the Brother and then finally the Father.

You find yourself identifying with each character! It is awesome! In fact, I feel the need to read it again. Problem is I lent it to someone and can’t remember who so I will have to purchase it again!

If you haven’t read it I suggest you buy it immediately! It really is the kind of book one needs to have always on one’s bookshelf.

Blessings

Yes! Simply wonderful. I passed this on to my Mom and as a result, she bought a copy of the painting and gave same plus book to my brother.

I read this after I’ve had my own experience whilst meditating on this passage, some of his experiences really resonated with me.

I might write about that experience later. This really brought home to me how truly God loves me and how true that passage of St Pauls about neither sin nor death separating us from Christ.

 

[benedictus2]

Today I bought a CD with chants by J.M. Talbot and his monk ensemble.

I found out just recently that John Michael Talbot has set to music St Theresa’s Poem, “God Alone Suffices” which I use as my signature.

You might want to check out this link. It is quite beautiful.

God Alone is Enough

 

[Snowy]

My journey started almost 20 years ago with a donkey (donkeys are the passports and safe-conducts for pilgrims and better company than most men), a desert in faraway lands, and a childlike faith in the Sermon on the Mount painted over with several coats of pop-Budhism. The first night of the journey thieves helped themselves to everything I mistakenly thought I needed while I was asleep. The first thing I received was a little make-up mirror with the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on the back, that a young lady gave to me when my answers to her questions sounded more Zen than Christian to her ears. I never went hungry, and was always fed by poor people (rich people were all suspicious of me). The water that I was offered never hurt me, even if sometimes the only water to be had looked scary. When people thought that I needed something, they offered it to me, like boots when they were concerned a snake or a scorpion might bite me, or blankets when they saw me head for the hills. When my pilgrimage was over, I arrived at a seaport at the same time that a man was looking to hire someone to help him deliver a charter sailboat across the ocean, and I got back home with more money than I had when I left. I didn’t find God, though; if only I had looked around instead of inside!

Today, things started off pretty well. When I was waiting in line for the confession, I was only tempted once to run away from the Church. I felt you folks cheering me on: “Repent! Confess!” Now seriously, thanks. I poured out my darkest secrets, and was forgiven. When the time to receive the Eucharist came, I got a little nervous, I didn’t open my mouth wide enough, didn’t stick out my tongue far enough, the minister let go of the Host too soon, and I dropped our Lord on the floor. I picked him up carefully, and he wasn’t hurt (he’s gone through worse), but I still feel like a complete idiot.

I’m not dancing a jig of joy right now, but on the bright side, I haven’t had a cigarette in 10 hours and I’m not being tempted to run to the store or rummage through the ashtray. I feel a bit anxious, but I don’t feel like smoking at all. Blessed be the Lord, he didn’t need to be this kind to me. I deserve some suffering!

 

[benedictus2]

My journey started almost 20 years ago with a donkey (donkeys are the passports and safe-conducts for pilgrims and better company than most men), a desert in faraway lands, and a childlike faith in the Sermon on the Mount painted over with several coats of pop-Budhism. The first night of the journey thieves helped themselves to everything I mistakenly thought I needed while I was asleep. The first thing I received was a little make-up mirror with the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on the back, that a young lady gave to me when my answers to her questions sounded more Zen than Christian to her ears. I never went hungry, and was always fed by poor people (rich people were all suspicious of me). The water that I was offered never hurt me, even if sometimes the only water to be had looked scary. When people thought that I needed something, they offered it to me, like boots when they were concerned a snake or a scorpion might bite me, or blankets when they saw me head for the hills. When my pilgrimage was over, I arrived at a seaport at the same time that a man was looking to hire someone to help him deliver a charter sailboat across the ocean, and I got back home with more money than I had when I left. I didn’t find God, though; if only I had looked around instead of inside!

Today, things started off pretty well. When I was waiting in line for the confession, I was only tempted once to run away from the Church. I felt you folks cheering me on: “Repent! Confess!” Now seriously, thanks. I poured out my darkest secrets, and was forgiven. When the time to receive the Eucharist came, I got a little nervous, I didn’t open my mouth wide enough, didn’t stick out my tongue far enough, the minister let go of the Host too soon, and I dropped our Lord on the floor. I picked him up carefully, and he wasn’t hurt (he’s gone through worse), but I still feel like a complete idiot.

I’m not dancing a jig of joy right now, but on the bright side, I haven’t had a cigarette in 10 hours and I’m not being tempted to run to the store or rummage through the ashtray. I feel a bit anxious, but I don’t feel like smoking at all. Blessed be the Lord, he didn’t need to be this kind to me. I deserve some suffering!

BEAUTIFUL!

Welcome Home!

 

[Cinette]

My journey started almost 20 years ago with a donkey (donkeys are the passports and safe-conducts for pilgrims and better company than most men), a desert in faraway lands, and a childlike faith in the Sermon on the Mount painted over with several coats of pop-Budhism. The first night of the journey thieves helped themselves to everything I mistakenly thought I needed while I was asleep. The first thing I received was a little make-up mirror with the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on the back, that a young lady gave to me when my answers to her questions sounded more Zen than Christian to her ears. I never went hungry, and was always fed by poor people (rich people were all suspicious of me). The water that I was offered never hurt me, even if sometimes the only water to be had looked scary. When people thought that I needed something, they offered it to me, like boots when they were concerned a snake or a scorpion might bite me, or blankets when they saw me head for the hills. When my pilgrimage was over, I arrived at a seaport at the same time that a man was looking to hire someone to help him deliver a charter sailboat across the ocean, and I got back home with more money than I had when I left. I didn’t find God, though; if only I had looked around instead of inside!

Today, things started off pretty well. When I was waiting in line for the confession, I was only tempted once to run away from the Church. I felt you folks cheering me on: “Repent! Confess!” Now seriously, thanks. I poured out my darkest secrets, and was forgiven. When the time to receive the Eucharist came, I got a little nervous, I didn’t open my mouth wide enough, didn’t stick out my tongue far enough, the minister let go of the Host too soon, and I dropped our Lord on the floor. I picked him up carefully, and he wasn’t hurt (he’s gone through worse), but I still feel like a complete idiot.

I’m not dancing a jig of joy right now, but on the bright side, I haven’t had a cigarette in 10 hours and I’m not being tempted to run to the store or rummage through the ashtray. I feel a bit anxious, but I don’t feel like smoking at all. Blessed be the Lord, he didn’t need to be this kind to me. I deserve some suffering!

*Late have I love Thee, O
beauty so ancient and so new, late
have I loved Thee!..
*“What do I love when I love my God?

Not material beauty, or beauty of a temporal order,
Not the brilliance of earthly light, so welcome to our eyes;
Not the sweet melody of harmony and song;
Not the fragrance of perfumes or spices;
Not manna or honey, not limbs such as the body delights to embrace.

It is not these I love when I love God.
And yet it is true, when I love him I love light of a certain kind;
A voice, a perfume, a food, an embrace.
But they are of the kind I love in my inner self,

When my soul is bathed in light that is not bound by space,
When it breathes a fragrance that is not borne away on the wind;
When it tastes food that is never consumed by eating;
When it clings to an embrace from which it is not severed by
the fulfillment of desire.

That is what I love when I love my God.”

					(St Augustine – Confessions X, 6)

*

 

[benedictus2]

*Late have I love Thee, O *
beauty so ancient and so new, late
have I loved Thee!..

•                    (St Augustine – Confessions X, 6)*

 

[benedictus2]

The Hound of Heaven (Francis Thompson)

I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat—and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet—
‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’

I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
Trellised with intertwining charities;
(For, though I knew His love Who followèd,
Yet was I sore adread
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside).
But, if one little casement parted wide,
The gust of His approach would clash it to.
Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,
And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars;
Fretted to dulcet jars
And silvern chatter the pale ports o’ the moon.
I said to Dawn: Be sudden—to Eve: Be soon;
With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over
From this tremendous Lover—
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!
I tempted all His servitors, but to find
My own betrayal in their constancy,
In faith to Him their fickleness to me,
Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue;
Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
The long savannahs of the blue;
Or whether, Thunder-driven,
They clanged his chariot ’thwart a heaven,
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o’ their feet:—
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Still with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
Came on the following Feet,
And a Voice above their beat—
‘Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.’

I sought no more that after which I strayed
In face of man or maid;
But still within the little children’s eyes
Seems something, something that replies,
They at least are for me, surely for me!
I turned me to them very wistfully;
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair
With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
‘Come then, ye other children, Nature’s—share
With me’ (said I) ‘your delicate fellowship;
Let me greet you lip to lip,
Let me twine with you caresses,
Wantoning
With our Lady-Mother’s vagrant tresses,
Banqueting
With her in her wind-walled palace,
Underneath her azured daïs,
Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
From a chalice
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring.’
So it was done:
I in their delicate fellowship was one—
Drew the bolt of Nature’s secrecies.
I knew all the swift importings
On the wilful face of skies;
I knew how the clouds arise
Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings;
All that’s born or dies
Rose and drooped with; made them shapers
Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine;
With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day’s dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning’s eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
Heaven and I wept together,
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart
I laid my own to beat,
And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven’s grey cheek.
For ah! we know not what each other says,
These things and I; in sound I speak—
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth;
Let her, if she would owe me,
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me
The breasts o’ her tenderness:
Never did any milk of hers once bless
My thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase,
With unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy;
And past those noisèd Feet
A voice comes yet more fleet—
‘Lo! naught contents thee, who content’st not Me!’
Naked I wait Thy love’s uplifted stroke!
My harness piece by piece Thou hast hewn from me,
And smitten me to my knee;
I am defenceless utterly.
I slept, methinks, and woke,
And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears,
I stand amid the dust o’ the mounded years—
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.
Yea, faileth now even dream
The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist;
Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist
I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist,
Are yielding; cords of all too weak account
For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed.
Ah! is Thy love indeed
A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed,
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount?
Ah! must—
Designer infinite!—
Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it?
My freshness spent its wavering shower i’ the dust;
And now my heart is as a broken fount,
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever
From the dank thoughts that shiver
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.
Such is; what is to be?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds;
Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds
From the hid battlements of Eternity;
Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then
Round the half-glimpsèd turrets slowly wash again.
But not ere him who summoneth
I first have seen, enwound
With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned;
His name I know, and what his trumpet saith.
Whether man’s heart or life it be which yields
Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields
Be dunged with rotten death?

continued

 

[benedictus2]

The Hound of Heaven (continued)

  Now of that long pursuit
Comes on at hand the bruit;

That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:
‘And is thy earth so marred,
Shattered in shard on shard?
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!
Strange, piteous, futile thing!
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
Seeing none but I makes much of naught’ (He said),
‘And human love needs human meriting:
How hast thou merited—
Of all man’s clotted clay the dingiest clot?
Alack, thou knowest not
How little worthy of any love thou art!
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
Save Me, save only Me?
All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.
All which thy child’s mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:
Rise, clasp My hand, and come!’
Halts by me that footfall:
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.’

 

[Cinette]

Late have I loved Thee, O
Beauty so ancient and so new, late
have I loved Thee, And behold,
thou wert within and I was with-
out. I was looking for Thee out
there, and I threw myself, deformed
as I was, upon those well-formed
things which Thou hast made.
Thou wert with me, yet I was not
with Thee. These things held me
far from Thee, things which would
not have existed had they not been
in Thee, Thou didst call and cry
out and burst in upon my deafness;
Thou didst shine forth and glow
and drive away my blindness; Thou
didst send forth Thy fragrance, and
I drew in my breath, and now I
pant for Thee, I have tasted, and
Now I hunger and thirst; Thou
didst touch me, and I was inflamed
With desire for Thy peace.

• St Augustine

 

[AveSantaMaria]

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

benedictus, it’s interesting that you were thinking of To Jesus through Mary a few days ago! On Friday, the Presentation of Mary, I made my complete consecration to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary in the method of St. Louis Mary de Montfort, True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin montfort.org.uk/Writings/TrueDev.html
The same way as has been done by St. Therese of Liseux, who wrote *The Story of a Soul * gutenberg.org/etext/16772, His Holiness Pope John Paul II Reflections on True Devotion to Mary by His Holiness Pope John Paul II http://www.michaeljournal.org/montfort.htm , and St. Maximilian Maria, www.consecration.com

I never thought of going from Jesus to Mary or from Mary to Jesus. I suppose I did both - I pursued Jesus, eventually found the Immaculate Heart of Mary, particularly through the Most Holy Rosary, **Secret of the Rosary ** montfort.org.uk/Writings/Rosary.html and the Confraternity of the Most Holy Rosary (it virtually lets your Most Holy Rosaries count double rosary-center.org/nroscon.htm or triple, or thousands of times since you get the benefits of other people’s rosaries as well )
Then I decided that the sweetest and most secure way to continue on my treck to heaven was to devote myself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary for the reasons given in **True Devotion to Mary **, and kept on learning more about and devoting myself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus along the way - things like Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and the revelations/apparitions given to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus en.wikisource.org/wiki/Devotion_to_the_Sacred_Heart_of_Jesus#FIRST_POINT._.E2.80.94_The_ardent_desire_Jesus_Christ_feels_to_be_with_us.
, and the Divine Mercy Chaplet. One of the next books on my reading list is Divine Mercy in my Soul by St. Faustina!

I like one of Bishop Fulton Sheen’s favorite poems:

Lovely Lady dressed in blue
Teach me how to pray!
God was just your little boy,
Tell me what to say!

Did you lift Him up, sometimes,
Gently on your knee?
Did you sing to Him the way
Mother does to me?

Did you hold His hand at night?
Did you ever try
Telling stories of the world?
O! And did He cry?

Do you really think He cares
If I tell Him things ----
Little things that happen? And
Do the Angels’ wings

Make a noise? And can He hear
Me if I speak low?
Does He understand me now?
Tell me ----for you know.

Lovely Lady dressed in blue —
Teach me how to pray!
God was just your little boy,
And you know the way.
(by Mary Dixon Thayer)

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

 

[AveSantaMaria]

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

My journey started almost 20 years ago with a donkey (donkeys are the passports and safe-conducts for pilgrims and better company than most men), a desert in faraway lands, and a childlike faith in the Sermon on the Mount painted over with several coats of pop-Budhism. The first night of the journey thieves helped themselves to everything I mistakenly thought I needed while I was asleep. The first thing I received was a little make-up mirror with the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on the back, that a young lady gave to me when my answers to her questions sounded more Zen than Christian to her ears. I never went hungry, and was always fed by poor people (rich people were all suspicious of me). The water that I was offered never hurt me, even if sometimes the only water to be had looked scary. When people thought that I needed something, they offered it to me, like boots when they were concerned a snake or a scorpion might bite me, or blankets when they saw me head for the hills. When my pilgrimage was over, I arrived at a seaport at the same time that a man was looking to hire someone to help him deliver a charter sailboat across the ocean, and I got back home with more money than I had when I left. I didn’t find God, though; if only I had looked around instead of inside!

Today, things started off pretty well. When I was waiting in line for the confession, I was only tempted once to run away from the Church. I felt you folks cheering me on: “Repent! Confess!” Now seriously, thanks. I poured out my darkest secrets, and was forgiven. When the time to receive the Eucharist came, I got a little nervous, I didn’t open my mouth wide enough, didn’t stick out my tongue far enough, the minister let go of the Host too soon, and I dropped our Lord on the floor. I picked him up carefully, and he wasn’t hurt (he’s gone through worse), but I still feel like a complete idiot.

I’m not dancing a jig of joy right now, but on the bright side, I haven’t had a cigarette in 10 hours and I’m not being tempted to run to the store or rummage through the ashtray. I feel a bit anxious, but I don’t feel like smoking at all. Blessed be the Lord, he didn’t need to be this kind to me. I deserve some suffering!

I don’t think that I quite understand, but there is still a happiness there!! It’s wonderful that you went to confession. My priest is very nice, but I tend to feel scared sometimes to confess deep things to another person. To make you feel better, I have done worse with the Eucharist, but that tale is between me and God and my priest.

Cinette, I’ve never read the Return of the Prodigal Son, nor heard of it before! Maybe I should request it from my family as a Christmas gift. I’d probably identify with the oldest child at this point in my life, Lol!!

benedictus, I’m also thinking about joining a third order. You were thinking about the Franciscans? That’s wonderful! I am leaning towards the Carmelites since I desire a strong Marian devotion, but I am sure that I am imbued with the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi anyways as I was named after him! Both of St. Maximilian Maria’s parents were third-order Franciscans by the way. I think to some certain extent - spirituality is passed down generationally

Thanks Cinette and benedictus for all of the poems!!! I will have to come back to this thread and contemplate them in the near future. I think that when I read them though I feel so poor in love, I think that I have nowhere near the fervor or joy in my devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus nor the Immaculate Heart of Mary

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

 

[benedictus2]

I never thought of going from Jesus to Mary or from Mary to Jesus. I suppose I did both - I pursued Jesus, eventually found the Immaculate

…

…
Then I decided that the sweetest and most secure way to continue on my treck to heaven was to devote myself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Well guess what, I am named after the Sacred Heart of Jesus because I was born on a first Friday. But my Mom added Maria to it so now it’s like Mary’s Heart more than Jesus’s Heart.

 

[benedictus2]

Late have I loved Thee, O

.**.
…
With desire for Thy peace.

• St Augustine

Thank you for posting the entire poem!!!

 

[AveSantaMaria]

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

benedictus2, so you are blessed to be between both the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and the two are so intertwined that you must be smooshed in between them

I read both of your poems. It is interesting that you both expressed the sentiment of throwing yourselves at things that were not God, but these things could not satisfy you, fill your emptiness and so you finally, at last, accepted God. In the sake of benedictus2, it seems that you felt pursued.

I think that if I were to write a poem at the minute (who knows how my perception will change later) of how I found the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary it would be - I stumbled blindly around trying to find God, but not having any idea how to recognize him. At the same time, I ran in the direction of the world - not realizing that Jesus Christ is not the prince of this world. I was pursued in extreme earnest by both the King of Glory through the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the prince of this world!! Neither would let me sleep at night, and I for the life of me could hardly tell their wills apart - except that, from coming so close to the prince of this world and tasting hell, I knew that I never wanted to go there and I hoped to stay as far apart from him as I possibly could. Where he will be I will not intend to be without the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary standing in between. But as I started walking on the paths of God, I found it painful and difficult and a heavy cross to carry. From love of Christ came weariness, discouragement, lack of wisdom, and a tiny bit of despair. And I don’t think that the prince of this world let up, tempting me in ways that I could hardly recognize. He desires to claim me for his own, and I will not go when I recognize him for what he is! As a result, I consecrated myself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary in the method of St. Louis Mary de Montfort, His Holiness Pope John Paul II, and St. Maximilian Maria. I enslaved myself to the Immaculate Heart of Mary with “chains of love” in the “holy slavery” that they talk about, because I trust that she will keep me safe with the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the sweetest way possible.

There is a saint, St. Rita, the patron saint of impossible causes, who noticed that her sons wanted to avenge the deaths of their father. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Rita_of_Cascia Fearing such a horrible crime for them, she prayed that they die rather commit murder. Her prayers were answered. That’s the permission I feel that I give to the Immaculate Heart of Mary in True Devotion to Mary, lead me to heaven, lead me to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, keep me on the narrow way, my soul is your responsibility now, no longer mine. If one day I will become obstinate and refuse to walk one more step in the narrow way to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and my soul will be lost, your responsibility is to take me away before that second comes. I once read that it was the Immaculate Heart of Mary, who helped St. John come to the cross of Christ, and I, as a depraved, pitiful, weak, sinful human hardly see myself choosing any sort of narrow way if it isn’t disguised well.

In some sense, I’m like Issac, I won’t do God’s will (bless Jacob) unless Jacob has his mother’s dish prepared for Issac and is wearing Esau’s clothing. In the words of St. Louis Mary de Montfort, in True Devotion to Mary,

Excerpt from section 154. "It is obvious that a person could not keep on eating without great effort unripe fruit which has not been sweetened.

ewtn.com/library/montfort/truedevo.htm

Through my commitment to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I firmly believe that I and my family are walking the narrow path whether we like it or not.

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

 

[benedictus2]

I read both of your poems. It is interesting that you both expressed the sentiment of throwing yourselves at things that were not God, but these things could not satisfy you, fill your emptiness and so you finally, at last, accepted God. In the sake of benedictus2, it seems that you felt pursued.

Actually, that poem, The Hound of Heaven is a very old poem (1800s) and I came across it about 18 years ago when my then spiritual director mentioned it. It is very beautiful.

And God is truly the Hound of Heaven. He will seek the lost sheep and bring him back to the fold.

 

[AveSantaMaria]

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

From St. Faustina’s Diary,

1. One day, I saw two roads. One was broad, covered with sand and flowers, full of joy, music and all sorts of pleasures. People walked along it, dancing and enjoying themselves. They reached the end without realizing it. And at the end of the road there was a horrible precipice; that is, the abyss of hell. The souls fell blindly into it; as they walked, so they fell. And their number was so great that it was impossible to count them. And I saw the other road, or rather, a path, for it was narrow and strewn with thorns and rocks; and the poeple who walked along it had tears in their eyes, and all kinds of suffering befell them. Some fell down upon the rocks, but stood up immediately and went on. At the end of the road there was a magnificent garden filled with all sorts of happiness, and all these souls entered there. At the very first instant they forgot all their sufferings.

saint-faustina.com/Diary/DMIMS4.shtml I think that’s a true picture of this life.

Here are some of her beautiful poems: on the Eucharist and the Immaculate Heart of Mary! And how powerfully important the Eucharist and the Immaculate Heart of Mary are! As St. Louis Mary de Montfort writes in True Devotion to Mary :

Excerpt from True Devotion 90. A counterfeiter usually makes coins only of gold and silver, rarely of other metals, because these latter would not be worth the trouble. Similarily, the devil leaves other devotions alone and counterfeits mostly those directed to Jesus and Mary, for example, devotion to the Holy Eucharist and to the Blessed Virgin, because these are to other devotions what gold and silver are to other metals.

ewtn.com/library/montfort/truedevo.htm

From St. Faustina’s Diary: saint-faustina.com/Diary/DMIMS4.shtml

1. O Blessed Host, in golden chalice enclosed for me,
   That through the vast wilderness of exile
   I may pass-pure, immaculate, undefiled;
   Oh, grant that through the power of Your love this might come to be.

O Blessed Host, take up Your dwelling within my soul,
O Thou my heart’s purest love!
With Your brilliance the darkness dispel.
Refuse not Your grace to a humble heart.

O Blessed Host, enchantment of all heaven,
Though Your beauty be veiled
And captured in a crumb of bread,
Strong faith tears away that veil.
Immaculate Virgin,
Pure crystal for my heart,
You are my strength, O sturdy anchor!
You are the weak heart’s shield and protection.

Mary you are pure, of purity incomparable;
At once both Virgin and Mother,
You are beautiful as the sun, without blemish,
And your soul is beyond all comparison.

Your beauty has delighted the eye of the Thrice-Holy One.
He descended from heaven, leaving His eternal throne,
And took Body and Blood of your heart
And for nine months lay hidden in a Virgin’s Heart.

O Mother, Virgin, purest of all lilies,
Your heart was Jesus’ first tabernacle on earth.
Only because no humility was deeper than yours
Were you raised above the choirs of Angels and above all Saints.

O Mary, my sweet Mother,
I give you my soul, my body and my poor heart.
Be the guardian of my life,
Especially at the hour of death, in the final strife.

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

 

[AveSantaMaria]

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

beneditus2, do you think that poem is a reflection on our lost state? Why do we need a Hound of Heaven anyways? Why do we flee from the Divine and why is love disguised as suffering? Is it because of original sin that we need to be pursued by the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary instead of naturally communing with him? Hopefully, finishing St. Faustina’s Diary will provide more answers

Free information on devoting oneself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary:
Online Adoration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament http://louisville-catholic.net/WebCameras/AdorationChapel/tabid/825/Default.aspx
True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin montfort.org.uk/Writings/TrueDev.html
**Secret of the Rosary ** montfort.org.uk/Writings/Rosary.html
Preparation for 33 day consecration to the Blessed Virgin saintlouisdemontfort.com/consecration.cfm
Reflections on True Devotion to Mary by His Holiness Pope John Paul II http://www.michaeljournal.org/montfort.htm
**The Glories of Mary, ** by St. Alphonsus de Liguori, one of the 33 Doctors of the Catholic Church, explains Hail Holy Queen http://www.catholictradition.org/Mary/glories.htm
On the Dolors of Mary by St. Alphonsus de Liguori, one of the 33 Doctors of the Catholic Church, explains the sufferings of Our Lady http://writer.zoho.com/public/immaculate/Seven-dolors
Marialis Cultus (Apostolic Exhortation for the Right Ordering and Development of Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary of His Holiness, February 2, 1974 by His Holiness Pope Paul VI ewtn.com/library/PAPALDOC/P6MARIAL.HTM
Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus en.wikisource.org/wiki/Devotion_to_the_Sacred_Heart_of_Jesus#FIRST_POINT._.E2.80.94_The_ardent_desire_Jesus_Christ_feels_to_be_with_us.
Divine Mercy Chaplet ewtn.com/Devotionals/mercy/dmmap.htmCathechism of the Catholic Church vatican.va/archive/catechism/ccc_toc.htm

Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse. Come Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, your well beloved spouse.

For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world!

*Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. *

 

[benedictus2]

beneditus2, do you think that poem is a reflection on our lost state? Why do we need a Hound of Heaven anyways? Why do we flee from the Divine and why is love disguised as suffering? Is it because of original sin that we need to be pursued by the Sacred Heart of Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary instead of naturally communing with him? Hopefully, finishing St. Faustina’s Diary will provide more answers

Yes, it is. I think it speaks of how we try to find God in the created world but as St Augustine say, our hearts are restless until they rest in God. And it is because God continually seeks us that we are restless. And it is good that we are restless for this restlesness is a sign of our need for God.

The sad thing is that many, because of the lies in this world will take a long time to realize this. Just look at the materialism that pervades our society today. I think the wealthiest nations also have the highest suicide rates.

So let us remember those who do not know Him, in our prayers.

 

[guanophore]

My journey started almost 20 years ago with a donkey (donkeys are the passports and safe-conducts for pilgrims and better company than most men), a desert in faraway lands, and a childlike faith in the Sermon on the Mount painted over with several coats of pop-Budhism. The first night of the journey thieves helped themselves to everything I mistakenly thought I needed while I was asleep. The first thing I received was a little make-up mirror with the Virgin of Guadalupe printed on the back, that a young lady gave to me when my answers to her questions sounded more Zen than Christian to her ears. I never went hungry, and was always fed by poor people (rich people were all suspicious of me). The water that I was offered never hurt me, even if sometimes the only water to be had looked scary. When people thought that I needed something, they offered it to me, like boots when they were concerned a snake or a scorpion might bite me, or blankets when they saw me head for the hills. When my pilgrimage was over, I arrived at a seaport at the same time that a man was looking to hire someone to help him deliver a charter sailboat across the ocean, and I got back home with more money than I had when I left. I didn’t find God, though; if only I had looked around instead of inside!

Today, things started off pretty well. When I was waiting in line for the confession, I was only tempted once to run away from the Church. I felt you folks cheering me on: “Repent! Confess!” Now seriously, thanks. I poured out my darkest secrets, and was forgiven. When the time to receive the Eucharist came, I got a little nervous, I didn’t open my mouth wide enough, didn’t stick out my tongue far enough, the minister let go of the Host too soon, and I dropped our Lord on the floor. I picked him up carefully, and he wasn’t hurt (he’s gone through worse), but I still feel like a complete idiot.

I’m not dancing a jig of joy right now, but on the bright side, I haven’t had a cigarette in 10 hours and I’m not being tempted to run to the store or rummage through the ashtray. I feel a bit anxious, but I don’t feel like smoking at all. Blessed be the Lord, he didn’t need to be this kind to me. I deserve some suffering!

You are such an AWESOME inspiration!

Luke 15:7
" Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance."