More May Celebrations

I love the end of May for its Feast Days--St. Joan of Arc and the Visitation and this year it was also Trinity Sunday. What a beautiful gift. I marvel at how beautifully we learn about salvation history, first that there is a God who is the creator of everything, seen and unseen; second, that Jesus is God, the only-begotten Son of God, who comes down from heaven to redeem us; and third, that their love itself is the Holy Spirit. I might not be stating this correctly and any analogy I might use will fail because He's an ineffable mystery. Theologians speak of the Holy Trinity with regard to their role: Father, Son, Holy Ghost; Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier; Lover, Beloved, Love. The relational aspect blows me away. Mary is daughter of the Father, mother of the Son, and spouse of the Holy Ghost. She is the only creature who is exalted even above the angels. She sings Magnificat (I love this simple psalm tone for singing) when Elizabeth, her elderly cousin blesses her, not once, but twice!  "Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb...And blessed art thou hast believed, because those things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord." I love this first chapter of Luke so much!     

I love Memorial Day Weekend too because our remembrance of our fallen dead is so very important, especially now, for the gift of freedom we enjoy. We watched a lovely movie, A Bear Named Winnie, about a little black bear that Lt. Harry Coleburn of the Canadian Veterinary Corps rescued while they were training to fight during WWI. The tension comes from the fact that the little bear is very attached to Lt. Harry and used to human companionship, yet they are preparing to go off to war, and there's just no place for a bear. A little boy, Christopher Robin, visits Winnie at the London Zoo, and his father, the playwright and poet A. A. Milne, begins writing his stories about Winnie the Pooh. I love how children bring out some of the best in adults.

And dear St. Joan--she was but a child, a mere teenager, when she fought for France. What courage! We ask for her intercession as well as St. Michael the Archangel, and St. Jude, the patron saint of impossible causes, daily. And today, we especially pray for all who've died defending all that America stands for. Requiescat in pace.

Reading

I've not been writing much but soaking up a lot of books this month. Three outstanding books: Martin & Mahalia: His Words. Her Song by the stellar husband-wife team of Andrea Davis Pinkney & Brian Pinkney. Beautifully written--spare, lyrical--and the paintings! Gorgeous! See for yourself.

Poor Banished Children by Fiorella de Maria was an audiobook with fantastic narration. The long drive to Ave Maria and back was so much more enjoyable because of this book. I should take lessons from this author in never shying away from making characters suffer--it's the only way to test her mettle. It is a violent book, given the setting 400 years ago when pirates stole people and sold them into slavery. But it was the reality for so many girls 400 years ago who might be neglected, raped, or sold into slavery. Coming to think of it, this is happening even now. But the good Lord sends angels of mercy too. My favorite part was of our girl in the tender care of the priest once he realizes she's neglected. The author never descends into sentimentality but shows the action of grace, the power of prayer. Oh, it gives me chills thinking of the girl's last prayer uttered in desperation and how it was answered. And what a confession! I told my husband this is not how one confesses their sins, by confessing the sins of others that cause us to sin. Lol. But there's a powerful scene wherein a priest (a different one) offers to hear her confession because our girl is embarking on a perilous journey, but she cannot because she is not sorry and would commit this sin again. Much food for thought in this beautifully crafted novel of redemption. The title comes from the Salve Regina, which we sing daily after the rosary. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve...and after this our exile show us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus!  

N.B. Salve Regina was composed by St. Hermann, who was disabled and so was given to a Benedictine monastery when the parents could no longer care for him. They educated him and he became a monk and contributed much to the sciences and the arts. What a treasure!

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi was such a timely book to read given how the entire world is becoming more oppressive towards its citizens in the name of Covid. Nafisi was a professor of Western and Persian literature in Tehran but slowly, slowly as the Ayatollah Khomeini came into power, freedoms were curtailed and society became repressive. Because I remember watching the news, it was interesting to get a retrospective view from inside, how different people responded. Nafisi took refuge in literature. “If I turned towards books, it was because they were the only sanctuary I knew, one I needed in order to survive, to protect some aspect of myself that was now in constant retreat.” 

She kept teaching until she simply could not comply with the ridiculous rules. There is a brilliant episode in which her class puts Gatsby on trial. For that one bit alone, I recommend you read this book. “A novel is not an allegory...it is a sensual experience of another world. If you don't enter that world, hold your breath with the characters and become involved in their destiny, you won't be able to empathize, and empathy is at the heart of the novel. This is how you read a novel; you inhale the experience. So start breathing. I just want you to remember this. That is all; class dismissed.”  

I truly enjoyed her analyses of books, even the ones I've not read. I must remedy that and read more of Nabokov. “Those of us living in the Islamic Republic of Iran grasped both the tragedy and absurdity of the cruelty to which we were subjected. We had to poke fun at our own misery in order to survive. We also instinctively recognized poshlust-not just in others, but in ourselves. This was one reason that art and literature became so essential to our lives: they were not a luxury but a necessity. What Nabokov captured was the texture of life in a totalitarian society, where you are completely alone in an illusory world full of false promises, where you can no longer differentiate between your savior and your executioner." 

This book impressed upon me the importance of resisting any way we can when a government begins a turn towards repressing its citizens because it is a slippery slope from two weeks to stay home, stay safe, flatten the curve to Dokument, bitte. Nafisi writes, “The worst crime committed by totalitarian mind-sets is that they force their citizens, including their victims, to become complicit in their crimes. Dancing with your jailer, participating in your own execution, that is an act of utmost brutality.”

Fiction has so much to teach us. "what we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth.” Happy reading and writing, folks. I have a faithful companion for both. Do share the good books you're reading. 

May Celebrations

My heart is so full of thanks and praise to our Lord. Max has graduated from Ave Maria University magna cum laude, one of five finalists for the President's Award. Dagny had a birthday. I am no longer the mother of teenagers :) We had such a lovely week in Florida visiting with some of the kids' friends, their parents, the staff and professors at AMU. And still there was time to be quiet and read and pray. It was lovely to end the visit with a trip to the beach and receive gifts from the sea.

We're all home together for a little while before Max settles in DC for work at Keybridge Communications. He'll be writing a LOT and I'm sure soon he'll be teaching me. We're grateful Dagny has an internship with a local company: Heron Farms. This came directly out of our interest in hydroponics. Dagny applied and voila! It'll be wonderful for her to apply what she's learning in school to real-world problems. Michael and I continue to work from home and sing at church. Speaking of, we celebrate Ascension Thursday and the anniversary of Marian apparitions at Fatima with a High Mass. A happy Feast Day to all. Where He is, we hope to follow!

The Baccalaureate Mass was the high point of the celebrations. The priest emphasized that although there are many unknowns to not fill ourselves with fear and anxiety but to trust in the Lord who loves us and wants us to be happy. He knows what we need and will provide. Let go of pride and worry. Practice self-sacrifice. Remain in Him. All will be well for those who love Jesus. The one word that encapsulated his beautiful homily was: TRUST. It immediately brought to me the image of Divine Mercy and the prayer: Jesus, I trust in YOU.  

Books, books, books!!!

It feels like Christmas! I was writing up some book reviews for our parish newsletter and visited Tan Books to get links and I knew it'd be dangerous territory because there's never anything that I don't want. They had amazing deals, $5 books, and I succumbed...in a big way. I dare you to check them out and not have something in your cart. 

I've been reading out on my back porch, taking in the scent of jasmine as it wafts on the breeze. But I really should finish those book reviews. 

Growing, growing, strong!!!

My children with their friends at a formal dance. So lovely! Most of them have spent a spring break or two with us. Max et. al. will be starting a new chapter in their lives.  Oh, may the good Lord direct all their steps. What a terrific foundation they have received at Ave Maria University. Deo gratias!

Caroline: Little House, Revisited

Every once in a while you come across a book so exquisite, words fail you. Today I started reading Caroline: Little House, Revisited by Sarah Miller and I am in awe. She is a beautiful writer, a bold one, taking on the voice of her character. She inhabits Caroline--Ma Ingalls--of the Little House books so perfectly, I'm lost in her. If you loved the Little House books, you will love Caroline.

I learned about Sarah when she used to hang out on the Blueboards, a generous contributor. Sarah's first book was Miss Spitfire: Reaching Helen Keller in Annie Sullivan's voice. I loved Helen's autobiography so it was a joy to read from Annie's POV. This is Sarah's strength--to immerse herself completely in the person she's writing about, truly bringing history to life.

Divine Mercy and Strawberries

Divine Mercy image in Vilnius
Eugeniusz Kazimirowski (1873-1939)

On this eve of Divine Mercy and our 12th anniversary of reception into the Church, my heart overflows with gratitude for all the blessings and so I share a prayer to three united hearts that resemble strawberries.

Heart of Jesus, I adore Thee.

Heart of Mary, I implore thee.

Heart of Joseph, pure and just,

in these three hearts

I place my trust.

Amen.

For the Sake of His Sorrowful Passion by Meggie Daly has beautiful meditations for praying the Divine Mercy chaplet. And Fr. Gaitley's book on 33 Days to Merciful Love is embracing our own littleness and brokenness like St. Therese and trusting and allowing Jesus to make us saints. A must-read. 

Happy Easter!!!

Christ our Passover has been sacrificed. For this He was born and for this He died. Easter Vigil was so beautiful, listening to salvation history, and then celebrating the entry of the newest members of our family. Truly, it's like being at the gates of heaven. We had a beautiful High Mass for Easter Day--first time ever. We must do it again! Deo gratias!!!

Our citrus flowers--lemon, tangerine and grapefruit (ready to burst open)--are all so fragrant. Love them. A blessed and beautiful Easter to all. He is Risen! Alleluia!!!

Holy Saturday Musings with Links and a Poem: LIMBO

Jimmy Akin has an interesting piece about pinning down the date of Jesus' Crucifixion

Descent of Christ from the Cross
 ~ Jean Joseph Weerts (AD 1847-1927)

and it's April 3, AD 33.

Saturdays are devoted to Mary. If her greatest joy had been to hold the baby Jesus, then the greatest sorrow occurred when she held the dead Body of her Son on Good Friday. Yet, she in her sorrow had the fullness of the faith even though everybody had lost it--the Apostles and holy women did not expect the Resurrection even though Jesus Himself spoke about it! There is a beautiful and more thorough explanation here from which I quote: "It is precisely the day that reminds us of the tragic hour of doubt and abandonment... Until the triumph of the Immaculate Heart comes we are living a great Holy Saturday in which one would say that everything we love lies in the grave without balms and in disorder, contempt, hatred and abandonment." 

I've been spending a lot of time with St. Joseph and it's clear that his greatest sorrow was knowing that the beautiful Child would one day suffer and His Mother will share that pain and sorrow and he would not be there to protect them. And so I repost: In the Apostles Creed, which we recite daily, we speak of Jesus descending into hell. This is not the hell of the damned, but simply the abode of the dead, before the gates of heaven were opened. And here's a beautiful poem about it:

Limbo By Sister Mary Ada, OSJ

 

The ancient greyness shifted

Suddenly and thinned

Like mist upon the moors

Before the wind.

An old, old prophet lifted

A shining face and said:

“He will be coming soon.

The Son of God is dead;

He died this afternoon.”

A murmurous excitement stirred

All souls.

They wondered if they dreamed –

Save one old man who seemed

Not even to have heard.

And Moses, standing,

Hushed them all to ask

If any had a welcome song prepared.

If not, would David take the task?

And if they cared

Could not the three young children sing

The Benedicite, the canticle of praise

They made when God kept them from perishing

In the fiery blaze?

A breath of spring surprised them,

Stilling Moses’ words.

No one could speak, remembering

The first fresh flowers,

The little singing birds.

Still others thought of fields new ploughed

Or apple trees

All blossom-boughed.

Or some, the way a dried bed fills

With water

Laughing down green hills.

The fisherfolk dreamed of the foam

On bright blue seas,

The one old man who had not stirred

Remembered home.

Andrea di Bonaiuto (AD 1346-1379), Descent of Christ to Limbo

And there He was

Splendid as the morning sun and fair

As only God is fair.

And they, confused with joy,

Knelt to adore

Seeing that He wore

Five crimson stars

He never had before.

No canticle at all was sung

None toned a psalm, or raised a greeting song.

A silent man alone

Of all that throng found tongue –

Not any other

Close to His heart.

When the embrace was done,

Old Joseph said, “How is Your Mother,

How is Your Mother, Son?”

Good Friday Reproaches

I learned about the Reproaches only a couple of years ago when our choir director started singing them during the veneration of the Cross. They are powerful--Christ crying out to His people from the Cross. My favorite version is the chant alternating with polyphony composed by Victoria. 

My people, what have I done to you
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I led you out of Egypt,
from slavery to freedom,
but you led your Savior to the cross.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

Holy is God!
Holy and mighty!
Holy immortal One, have mercy on us!

For forty years I led you
safely through the desert.
I fed you with manna from heaven,
and brought you to a land of plenty; but you led your Savior to the cross.

Repeat "Holy is God..."

What more could I have done for you.
I planted you as my fairest vine,
but you yielded only bitterness:
when I was thirsty you gave me vinegar to drink,
and you pierced your Savior with a lance.

Repeat "Holy is God..."

II.

For your sake I scourged your captors
and their firstborn sons,
but you brought your scourges down on me.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I led you from slavery to freedom
and drowned your captors in the sea,
but you handed me over to your high priests.
"My people...."

I opened the sea before you,
but you opened my side with a spear.
"My people...."

I led you on your way in a pillar of cloud,
but you led me to Pilate's court.
"My people...."

I bore you up with manna in the desert,
but you struck me down and scourged me.
"My people...."

I gave you saving water from the rock,
but you gave me gall and vinegar to drink.
"My people...."

For you I struck down the kings of Canaan.
but you struck my head with a reed.
"My people...."

I gave you a royal scepter,
but you gave me a crown of thorns.
"My people...."

I raised you to the height of majesty,
but you have raised me high on a cross.
"My people...."

Another favorite is the Taize chant: Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom. I was so honored to lead it off because it is a prayer I make many times throughout the day. I heard it the first time when we were entering the church and I cried and cried because this was my desire, coming home to my Love, may we never ever be separated from Him ever again. I love how we pray not just for ourselves and but for the whole world. Our pastor gave a beautiful homily on why our dear Jesus had to die on the Cross. Here's the link to our Good Friday liturgy. Tonight, we watch The Passion of the Christ by Mel Gibson.