Rejoice! Alleluia! Rejoice!

Every Easter Vigil is different because of the indelible mark left by those who have entered the Church, renewing Her like the waters of life-giving Baptism. It is also the same year after year because Christ is the same year after year—tearing asunder the veil of darkness and death, uniting hearts under His banner, renewing His Bride for service and love in this world. Such is the beauty of Christ—we see it in the face of the newly Baptized believer or the one who has returned to the font of every blessing... It is Christ who has risen from the dead, and it is He who continues His work through us!

It is a welcoming, a blessing, and ultimately an espousal that culminates in a wedding feast of God and His Church—of Heaven and earth. Happy Easter!

Beauty shines forth in the darkness...

"The God of gods, the LORD,
has spoken and summoned the earth
from the rising of the sun to its setting.

From Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God shines forth.

Our God comes and will not be silent!
Devouring fire precedes him,
it rages strongly around him.

He calls to the heavens above
and to the earth to judge his people:

“Gather my loyal ones to me,
those who made a covenant with me by sacrifice.”

The heavens proclaim his righteousness,
for God himself is the judge...

“...Those who offer praise as a sacrifice honor me;
I will let him whose way is steadfast
look upon the salvation of God.”" - Psalm 50:1-6, 23

May He be ever praised!

St. Mary's Catholic Church, College Station, TX, Easter Vigil Mass, March 30, 2013. Photo by Ed Rhodes.

Our Thanksgiving

If we are to eradicate loneliness, we must be willing to subject ourselves to the possibility that we will be lonely ourselves and to be better from the knowledge of it. This is obliquely fear of the Lord. It is not that we should seek out loneliness for ourselves but that we accept the lot laid out for us as our task. Eternal damnation is but eternal separation from a God who loves us deeper than we could comprehend. It is a casting of ourselves into the cold that we have found ourselves, not that God first willed damnation but communion first. Actions have consequences. The anecdote for us in the world fighting the pernicious disease of loneliness is in the Sacraments, and chief among them is the Holy Eucharist, which bears visible an invisible truth that all humans desire—Communion with one another and ultimately with God.

Our Thanksgiving begins by thanking the King who has given of Himself to tear down the walls of loneliness and despair and raise up a Kingdom that is in Communion with Him. We are charged to do the same for the least among us, for He is in them, and we must see Him in the Other and give of ourselves to be present to them. Our fate lies in the balance; we must recognize Him in the Other to avoid missing the slightest chance to serve the King. This disguise is subtle but the results are huge; we cannot expect Him to see us as part of His love if we do not offer every agony or pain experienced with the Other as a gift back to Him in the sublime solidarity of love. There isn't a chance for delay, and the world is in need of it.

Life is the fullest and the most beautiful not when we ask "What if?" to a world of endless possibilities and of failures of the past now made present. Rather, we should boldly ask: "Where are you, Lord?" We are then surprised by His immediacy, even in the failed attempts to find Him in everything we experience. Our God is not a god of the history books as though a mythological fable; He has written every word of it. Our God is not a god who remains in the past; He is a god who is very much alive. He is a god of the present, of the evolving, of the "what is to come." He is ultimately the God of the Apocalypse—the God of the Unveiling. He is with us now, guiding us to a future bright animated through and in and with Him!

God has placed in our hearts a greater joy than one we could possibly imagine or think of in our own dim view, but He does reveal this great joy to us in the Ordinary. These are the Sacraments. When we accept in our lives this animating joy given when we live a life for Him through those outward signs of the inner grace, we participate in the Divine Master's very existence, His work for the good of His people. These are the Sacraments of Service—Holy Orders and Holy Matrimony. Through these the life of the Church are renewed and strengthened. We, no matter our state or impediments, should not run from the Lord's desire to elevate these from the universal priesthood given through our Baptism in Christ Jesus. They are Sacraments for building up the Baptized and confirming them in the apostolic zeal that continues be handed down through that Missionary Mandate. They are critical in the same Mandate, and ever the more needed critical in a world that has forgotten the Sacraments.

In this light, we should run to Him, as He runs towards us and give thanks. For when I see this reality in its fullness of truth and its overwhelming catholicity, I see all that our Lord has promised—if not its timing—and my soul is overwhelmed with sincere joy. This is a Faith unshaken and a Hope secure in a Love that satisfies. May He be praised.

In all things, graciousness. When finding fault in another, find the reason which excuses the fault—silence of friendship. If you cannot find the gracious word, offer a silence befitting the joy you have been given which points toward all grace. Healing isn't about what is said; rather, it is about what isn't. Healing is chiefly about presence.

Credo et Accipio.

"Rejoice in the Lord Always!"

I found great joy in the Agnus Dei today, the Mass setting from the Mass of the Morning Star... The music remains for me a motif, a scent of a profound underlying beauty of the Faith made intensely personal. The very familiar notes remain with me and bind, in a way, my sorrow with His at the Mass. He is the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world. We do not make ourselves clean; "by His stripes we are healed." (cf. Isaiah 53:5)

And so this causes me to respond as St. Paul enjoins on us even until today: "Rejoice in the Lord always! Rejoice!" (cf. Philippians 5:4)

Even so, can joy be mixed with sorrow? YES! Because joy does not depend on us. It is a grace, as all good things are, from above. His joy is made complete with our participation; that is why we must participate both in the joy and recall it even when we face sorrow. The Cross did not eliminate sorrow or suffering... His sacrifice has given us a clarion call, a mustering point to which we have a duty and honor to observe—out of pure love of Him. When we make it about us, piousness grows hollow. When we search for joy without service, we become empty tombs of faltering, passing happiness. Love of Him in the Other cannot be ignored; if distraction appears it is an opportunity to deepen our commitment to the radical love of Christ—to go to the root of that love—that bears fruit that remains. Then we become the servants worthy of praise by the Father, for we have not divided against the Son. Rather, we have thus joined with Him in the work of the Vineyard. The Vineyard is the People of God, and we must labor no matter our state with Him if we are to share in His inheritance. Out of love for Him, we serve, and out of this love comes the everlasting joy that gives us hope in the present for a future secure in His love. May He ever deepen this gift to us for the good benefit of others.

Deo gratias!

The Church as One

My heart burns... it yearns. I wish every day was the eve in anticipation towards a Sunday morning. It is not that every Sunday has its note be the sweetest... though we must do our part. No, it is the anticipation of something even greater, greater than even the Mass present before us in our hearts of the day. That is why we are called forth, the Mass is a sending into the Vineyard. So must we... and to not grumble when we see gifts greater than our own. Even that morning, the arresting breath! A turn of the corner, a flash of light, a peace not my own. The Eucharist is our highest joy on this earth.

My heart returns to these successive weeks... for me, they're enveloped within the consciousness of the Domestic Church. At Mass a few weeks ago, again and again at that early morning offering—the young families present. We mustn't grow weary of their participation—of the coos, the noise, the shaking of the Church. It is a good and necessary thing! It reminds us of our vitality, of our love for one another. They do not belong behind, away, or shuttered. They belong in front.

I wish to take the latter of this into my arms... and ultimately into my prayers. My prayers are for those who deal with such deep loss within the Domestic Church. There is good in desires and better in their purification. We are not a Church at rest! We are a Church active, a Church Militant. A Church in Love is a Church active, not doing Her own will but the One who sent Her, who Baptized Her, who Commissioned Her for the great good She does because She is empowered by Jesus Christ himself and the same Spirit that fills us as believers in the true Faith of Jesus Christ. We are the Church, but not in our isolation... in dissident, fractious belief or in our vanity, our impatience, our own self-centeredness... We are the Church in Communion, called to be One, called to be Holy, called to be Apostolic... called to be Catholic.

Lord, repair what I have undone, what I have done poorly. Fix what I have broken, heal where I have made division, speak where I have remained silent. Make known Your love to us. Take us back into Your own heart, a people set apart. Let us see You in the Other.

Guide us into the Way of Peace, into the Way of Truth, into the Way of Love together as One. Amen.

Dwelling in the Desert of Love

God gave me a garden of love, and what I found was Gethsemane.

Even in absence of every good thing, He is there, and my heart hopes. In love it hopes, and though it is far off—further than any other night—I see the brightest star through this dark–this Dark Night. Love abounds even where there is thirst and exhaustion. This desert is but a delay, a damper, but not a death. Love finds its way, and it is the choice—the free choice—to love or not. Even if it is far off, Love comes to us and travels the distance. Love bounds toward the brokenhearted because it is in breaking we grow wider than we could alone. Love always goes the distance.

And for this it is worth everything, even death... Death on a Cross.

Vocation: Moving from Despair into Mercy

Coming to dwell upon a momentary despair, one of the minor ones that precipitate a temptation to fall into a selfish burst, a moment turned inward—the following comes to mind, as though inspiration breathed in and a cool answer to a heated breath of dismay:

If one is tempted to self or unpurposed love of self, make an act of love in opposite, a small sacrifice of love—a prayer, a thought, a physical act (if possible) according to the state in life and relation, especially for those in the budding of vocation. Make it a point to cut against the grain, to rouse the senses to cooperation under the same mission as the intellect that ascends to and accepts in word a faith towards such a state, that begins in proto-form the desire to say "I do" or be consecrated towards the Kingdom at hand but needs a small act or, if you will, "a kiss to build a dream on." Make an act of love in this direction and in such a concrete way, even if the Beloved sees not. Do this, and you will have placed a brick upon the structure, the abode of love that you are building for the Other. Brick by brick, even if the Beloved does not accept such a gift, builds the home in which the Father bestows and desires each to dwell within. It is then a structure, an abode of love. Festooned with the flowers that burst into bloom and then fade as youth does, this abode will not later fade. Rather, it will be strengthened by each sweet act of charity. The investment being made will then pay dividends, not for oneself alone but—as one holding everything in common—for the community of believers. In this end, that immutable crown of glory will be yours and, with it, a Communion given by the One who has given it all, even His dearly beloved Son.

This is why it is right to say: "Conversion is where obedience turns into love."

So it is in pursuit, in the Courtship of the Daughter of the King... So must a "yes" be in preparation, for love requires a soil prepared in due time if the fruits of love are to be those that remain. Without Him, we can do nothing.

"And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come back again and take you to myself,
so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way." - John 14:3-4

These words strike me... they hold me in a great peace. What has He prepared? Much! And yet Thomas questions. It is enough to be with Him along the Way, peaceful with the great good given each in their own way. This is gratitude.

I am reminded of last Sunday morning, in preparation for Mass and entering into and serving in the Mass. Looking beyond my place towards the Altar—and this among other reasons is why I love 8 AM Mass so much—the light pierced through the east-facing windows before me with its light resting upon the chalice and purificator spent. It was for me, a profound and yet sublime example of love. It was love in the hidden—in the invisible made visible. That is what the Blessed Sacrament is. It is love spent for the good of the people, multiplied, and distributed. It is the wedding banquet, and my heart was glad.

It is in these moments I find great solace and remembrance of His love, "for his mercy endures forever." Not only this, I remember those whom I am so bound in prayer and affection that tears of joy are recalled. I pray even now not out of a desire of being seen—this is the warning of Christ about the locked room of prayer—but out of deep reverence for the love He has placed for me that I am called to give in turn in specific, tender ways. These are like wounds that are opened and then re-heal, only to open again. This is the nature of compassion and of self-gift and love.

It is an honor to serve in lectoring at Mass, especially regarding last Sunday's reading and the rejoinder by St. Peter to be like "living stones." The greater gift received is the mere opportunity to see the work of God at work in us and through us that the light shines through and shows through the darkness of our own hearts His marvelous love. Namely, it is itself the receiving of Him in the Eucharist. There can be no greater, no further complete union of God and Man other than on Judgement Day. We must avail of it often and never grow weary to our need for conversion before approaching. Yet, through it all, we remember that "his mercy endures forever."

Amen.

Let Us Give Thanks...

Conversion is a day by day experience, as I was reminded to me in a homily a week ago, and day by day I know more why I continue to return... With the eyes of faith I recall the words of Peter: "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God." (John 6:68-69)

But this isn't a begrudging answer or a return based on fear or weariness, even when I fail... It isn't as though it is a crutch. Why go to Mass then? Why return in community to the Eucharist?

Indeed, the Eucharist is having eyes for forever. It is the onward look towards Eternity, wrapped in a love deeper than the depths of the human heart. It is a Thanksgiving, rightly called so, because we do not earn it, but we are given it in our feebleness. It strengthens; it fortifies. It gives us new life... All because of HIS words... "I am the Bread of Life."

Let us "give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever!" -Psalm 107:1

Today I give thanks "for his mercy endures forever" (Psalm 107:1), and His beauty is ever before me, whether before me at home or in Rome.

The beauty I seek, that I yearn most deeply for, is before me always. It is his mercy that endures forever and my heart is glad, glad for a shepherd whose voice I hear from the ends of the earth to home. My heart is glad for Him Who Is and for the gifts of Him.

My heart is glad for the gift of love for ones that are His, and I pray I may recall this even when that love is tested and purified, most especially when all that I desire is before me at the Altar of Salvation, at the Table of His Great Love, at the Banquet of the Great Communion of His Love. May I place it all upon the altar with the unblemished gifts and the works of our hands—all of it!

He purifies because He loves, and He loves because He wants us, all of us, to have life more abundantly.

Let us love through Him. Though Him, With Him, In Him... Now and Forever. Amen.

—Sunrise from the Coast of Italy, May 2, 2014

Keeping Company with the Lord

"I keep up the Holy Hour to grow more and more into his likeness. As Paul puts it: "We are transfigured into his likeness, from splendor to splendor." We become like that which we gaze upon. Looking into a sunset, the face takes on a golden glow. Looking at the Eucharistic Lord for an hour transforms the heart in a mysterious way as the face of Moses was transformed after his companionship with God on the mountain. Something happens to us similar to that which happened to the disciples at Emmaus. On Easter Sunday afternoon when the Lord met them, he asked why they were so gloomy. After spending some time in his presence, and hearing again the secret of spirituality - "The Son of Man must suffer to enter into his Glory" - their time with him ended and their "hearts were on fire." - Archbishop Fulton Sheen (Treasure in Clay)

This reminds me again of the Polish proverb I've shared elsewhere previously, which is translated loosely: "You become like the company you keep."

Indeed, it is holding a Lover's gaze. And to be in that Gaze! We all desire love! We all wish to be loved! To be forgiven! To have all of our sins washed away!

His presence is enough.

Indeed, if we would recall this important reminder, we would so readily run to the Blessed Sacrament.

We would not run to it because of its semblance of bread and wine. It would be in spite of it. We would go despite our disbelief, others' disdain, even mockery of it. We would go because of His very Word: "THIS IS MY BODY GIVEN UP FOR YOU."

Today as we did at the close of Good Friday, we stand watch at the Tomb. We are inconsolable, but we have knowledge that the first disciples knew not... Easter is on its way.

"They have taken His body!" we think in sadness as the third day draws near and horror sets in on Easter morning of the empty tomb. But what is horror at first blush is rejoicing with the morning. For when He calls our name, we hear him. When He casts His gaze upon us, He sees us. And when He draws near to us, we remain in Him (cf. John 15).

His Presence never fades. Love wins.

Catholic Beauty: Living as the Mystical Body of Christ

I recently had a family friend ask me why I was so drawn to the parish of Our Lady of Walsingham in Houston and the Ordinariate's Anglican Use Mass of the Latin Rite. I have no specific ties to Anglicanism and am cradle Catholic. However, it is precisely because I am Catholic that I am drawn to all of it, most especially the families wrapped in Our Lady's mantle for it. It is said from medieval times that England was—and still is—Mary's Dowry. To be Catholic is to be drawn in with anything that has that authentic beauty. It is imperative that we seek out authentic beauty and nurture it. Beauty is a compelling thing, but beauty also is most especially a person: Christ with His Mass through the Eucharist, in its varied reverent forms, are a reflection of Him, as His angels and saints are, as are those who show virtue in this life and extol the same.

The beauty of the holy ones and the holy places make all of the counterfeit examples dross in the same brilliant dazzling light. It makes the Mass, the prayers, and the devotionals all the more attractive. It furthers the desire to emulate and be near those who are "very members incorporate" of His Mystical Body, the Church.

Certainly, if I do all the good works He has prepared for me to enter into and avoid those near occasions of sin for the even nearer occasions of grace and endless beauty, I will not prosper for my own glory but His. It is all His after all, even if I am given the smallest amount for my use.

How can I be burdened with worry about what others have then? I speak of this as a projection; I am not even near this slightest perfection. How can I be even worried in the slightest when another is entrusted with something of great beauty or is entrusted with a beautiful love of another? I cannot question the heart of a cheerful giver, most especially the most cheerful of all givers and Father of all givers, the Almighty Himself.

So I cannot question, but I can still behold the beauty. Is this not the definition of a Christian? To behold the Beauty of Christ in all His forms? Love demands to be given, and we must give even when we are weary. The Beloved needs it, and He does not delay in giving us the love we need as our daily bread.

May we see this beauty as the Beloved and seek out to be Lovers in the ways God is generously calling us to be in our day to day movements of grace to one another. Let us not shy away from this Cross we are to bear with Him. Amen.

O the depths of His Presence... and the distance.

"Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee for that thou dost feed us, in these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ: and dost assure us thereby of thy favor and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs, through hope, of thy everlasting kingdom. And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honor and glory, world without end. Amen." - The Post-Communion Prayer in the Anglican Use Liturgy of the Latin Rite

The Presence of the Lord: "Ite Missa Est"

Oh, this Presence! What shall I say of this? This is more than a binding of flesh and blood. It is submission to the greater Mission. It is an outward sign of an inward reality of Love. There is more to this than can be seen by our own eyes.

To be privileged to be given the opportunity to bring the Presence and to not betray Him or His love... It truly is the better portion and is given as a undeserved gift without any reward but His glory. This is Love.

This Presence remains with us even after we leave the Mass. We are "sent forth" ("ite missa est") to bring such a gift, such a pure gift. We become the outward sign of the inward reality. But why? Why do we leave this behind so easily? Why do we forget to love more purely? If we truly loved the Other more than words can describe and want what is ultimately the best for them, why do we hide such a profound gift as though it is a blemish instead of a blush? Is it because we are afraid of that Love's power? It is not without trial and rejection. No, His very love was rejected far worse! Is it that you do not believe because of others' human failures? Do not do this! For have you not seen with your own eyes His divine success?

To love is to be vulnerable, as C.S. Lewis once said, and that love is without question a test in trust. What if the beloved does not love? Love anyways. Love anyways but love in far more inventive ways. If by their rejection out of foolishness it becomes a game of responses out of shrewdness in love, do not be unlike the old widow before the judge and persist in seeking a just judgement. If such an incompetent judge can, out of sheer personal relief, issue a just judgement, how greater is the One who judges justly in Heaven? Love anyways! There are so many little rejections that must take place to say YES to HIM.

Do not grow weary of the endurance required for this Love if it is to be a seal set upon your heart (cf. Song of Songs 8:6). Do not betray the deep consolations He has given you in times of peace during those storms of desolation and half truths. They are greater than the storms we must traverse.

Let us not be like the foolish virgin who on the way ran dry of her oil and snuffed out her lamp waiting on the Bridegroom to pass by. We have all that we need for the way. Remain in Him.

If one loves another deeply with the depths the Lord has uniquely provided each to persist against all sorts of trials that image His trials born because of His love for us (cf. 1 John 4:18-19), then let us as that one do all the good works that He has prepared for us to enter into (cf. Ephesians 2:10) and do so without mental reservation. His sacrifice lacks nothing but our very own participation in it. Let us not stray from our cross but daily carry it after Him.

May He be present to each us and thus through the Church He established for Himself and washed in the water of His word "to present her to Himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless" (cf. Ephesians 5:27).

May His love reign supreme.

"Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body. 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." - Ephesians 5:21-33

This Is the Eucharist

I do not deserve this. He has placed all the choicest gifts before me, has given me more than I need, has showered me with His mercy. All that I see before me, I do not deserve. He has given me His very self. However, He has given me His very self not to hoard or hide but to share and celebrate. This is when I recall what I saw months ago at Mass during the Eucharist: a father with his son proceeding forward and, before reaching the priest, genuflected in such a way that it echoed what every good father does—He knelt with his children before the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings. He offered his son as an unbloody sacrifice. He sacrificed through the sweat and tears of the toil and labor he had to do to provide for his son. And there he was offering it before Him in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. I am not worthy of this. And, yet, these things do not come to me in a whisper of temptation from some loftier goal; rather, this is the loftier goal for me from Him. He is to come under my roof. This is the discernment of spirits: there remains no unease or disquiet from each revisit to this moment, only peace, only holy rapture. He has given me another gem along the Way. I do not deserve this, but He gives it to me ever the same. He has given His Word, and my soul has been healed. This is the Eucharist.

Grace Abounds

When dealing with a life bereft with poisonous temptation, as though living in a foggy swamp of noxious fumes, let us not grow weary in prudent combat against despair and malady. This is our great boon. As St. Paul writes: "Where sin is, grace abounds all the more" (cf. Romans 5:20). So it is with us. Grace is not for those who are comfortable; it is for those who are afflicted, bereft, and in need. That is why "the last shall be first" (cf. Mark 10:31).

Grace abounds "all the more" because of need, not because we have earned anything! Our place is with the Lord, no matter if we are the Faithful Son or the Prodigal Son.

Remember this when worried about the appearances of others or oneself. It is better to seek after mercy for oneself or another than it is to be quicker to condemn than our Lord. To "settle on the way" (cf. Matthew 5:25) and, in haste, to return to Him is better than a thousand days of doubt before our Lord. Forgiveness is not first in the judgement but in the asking, and it is in the judgement that, faithful to this command to love one another, we may see not only the grace of Holy Communion in this age, though beset with persecution (cf. Mark 10:30) and temptation to despair, but also Union with him in the Eternal Life to come with Him in the next.

Let us not grow hasty in our understanding of this sublime gift of grace and Holy Communion, and let us not delay in making our holy confession of guilt before Him. Let us not deny His love or refuse to share it fully. This is our "sacrifice of praise" (cf. Psalm 50:23), that He might be glorified in His love for us. Take courage in His love.

"Offer to God praise as your sacrifice
and fulfill your vows to the Most High.
He that offers praise as a sacrifice glorifies me;
and to him that goes the right way I will show the salvation of God." - Psalm 50:14, 23

"O God, who provide gifts to be offered to your name
and count our oblation as signs
of our desire to serve you with devotion,
we ask of your mercy
that what you grant as the source of merit
may also help us to attain merit's reward.
Through Christ our Lord."
(Prayer over the Offerings, Tuesday of the Eighth Week of Ordinary Time)

So much surrounds these words above, which came to me after a weekend at Our Lady of Walsingham in Houston, "the First Week After Pentecost" (in older usage) or, in the more commonplace, the Eighth Week of Ordinary Time. The Responsorial Psalm of daily Mass that Tuesday was that of a frequently used phrase in the the Anglican Use of the Roman Rite, which speaks of vows and devotion. It is used at the end of the period of announcements and blessings (especially birthdays and wedding anniversaries). It speaks so beautifully to the wedding feast that is just then about to commence... that wedding feast where, so beautifully, grace abounds.

John Paul II's "Magnificat"

Magnificat

My soul, magnify the glory of the Lord,
Father of great Poetry — and so good.

With wondrous rhythm he fortified my youth,
on an oak anvil he hammered out my song.

Resound, my soul, with the glory of the Lord
who made knowledge of angels, most kindly Maker.

Now at your heavenly banquet, I drain
a chalice with wine overflowing — your servant in prayer:
in gratitude for the angelic glow You lit for my youth
whittling its rough shape from the wood of a linden tree.

You omnipotent, the wondrous woodcarver of saints,
there are many oaks on my road, many birches.
I am a village field, a sunclad flower bed,
A young face jutting from the Tatra rocks.

I bless your sowing with sunrise and sunset;
Sower, I am your soil — widely scatter your grain —
may a field of rye and a castle of spruce
grow from my youth cradled in yearning and pain.

Let happiness magnify You — a great mystery:
with primordial song you have stretched my lungs,
made my face sink into the blue of the sky,
a shower of music falling on my strings —

and in this melody You came as Christ, a vision.
Look ahead, young Slave, look, the solstice fires!
The sacred oak is still in leaf, your king has not withered,
but become for the people a lord and a priest.

Magnify the Lord, oh my soul, for your calm foreboding,
for Gothic yearning in spring’s incarnation,
for youth aflame — wine chalice of elation,
for autumn born in the likeness of heather and stubble.

Magnify Him for poetry, for you and for pain:
the joy in mastering earth, gold, blue skies,
the passion of generations in words incarnate;
You will harvest this ripeness when it falls and dies.

The pain is evening sorrow of things half-uttered,
when beauty overwhelms us, and ecstasy is ours,
God bending to the harp — but on a rocky track
a sunbeam breaks, and words lose their power.

Words fail, and I am like a fallen angel,
a statue on marble pedestal — stone on stone —
but You breathed yearning into the marble arms,
the statue longs to take off — angel again.

And I magnify You also for the haven there is in You,
the reward for each song — day of holy quest,
for the joy that sings the hymn of motherhood,
the quiet word of fulfillment — Eli manifest!

Father, be blessed for the angel’s sorrow
for the song that crushes falsehood, for the soul’s inspired fight.
Break all love of words in us, and destroy
The puffed-up form parading like a fool.

A Slav troubadour, I walk Your roads and play
to maidens at the solstice, to shepherds with their flock,
but, wide as this vale, my song of prayer
I throw for You only, before your throne of oak.

Blessed are you, oh song among songs,
blessed the soul’s sowing and the seeds of light.
Let my soul magnify Him who threw over my shoulders
princely satin, velvet’s soft delight.

Blessed be the Carver-of-saints and prophet and Slav.
have mercy on me, a publican inspired.
Magnify the Lord, oh my soul, in humble love
singing the hymn: Holy, Holy, Holy!

Now the song is one. Poetry, descend!
The seed like the soul yearns, insatiable.
May my road keep to the shade of oaks and birches,
and may my youthful harvest be pleasing to God.

Slav Book of yearning, on the last day resound
like brass, choirs of the resurrection
in virginal holy song, in poetry that bows
with the hymn of humanity — God’s Magnificat.

Karol Wojtyla - Cracow, spring-summer, 1939
Published in Karol Wojtyla's Collected Poems, 1982. Translated by Jerzy Peterkiewicz.

Love on the Way: Take Courage!

How easy is it to remain on the mountaintop and pitch the proverbial tent! It is very good to be here... but where is He calling you? Where? Reach into the depths, beyond the fears that remain. How can He do anything with you if you do not first release the fallacious fears of recollection that rest on past failures and past falls. Perfection lies not in the past but in the future.

Ultimately, love is about the future in Communion, not the past of disunion. Make the daily offering to unite all the Little Things to the Lord and His Sacrifice for His union with His bride, and He will show you the way to love without fear, to take courage without despair, and to give, in turn, what you have been given. Love finds His way to His Beloved.

Learn from the Master how He loves His Beloved. Take courage! With Him, He carries His Cross and helps you with yours on the Victory March to Love! Love takes His form with every breath, with every step, with every drop of blood, of sweat. Love finds His way to His Beloved.

His love does not dither to the harshness of the present life, nor does it to the past. Its luminance lasts beyond the night, and it harkens the days to come. His love is grace itself, and it shares with us His Victory March. The battle for Life has already been won. Rejoice in His love and share it with others on the Way, on that Way of Sorrows. Take courage! Rest with Him in His Communion; rest in preparation for the good works ahead He has prepared for you to enter into. Love finds His way to His Beloved.

Beloved, rest in His love. His Wedding Feast awaits!

Love Requires Communion

Love does not require two people, and yet, at the same time, it cannot be forced or coerced. It must be a gift to be accepted or denied, received or rejected. Love is not a pure emotion, though emotions and passions can drive it, but a willed act. It cannot be as fickle as the winds or the rain, or exacted like a science or weather phenomena. Love cannot be predicted for the simple fact that it requires a free will ready to return that love which has been first given, and thus to be shared with the Other, with each of the ones surrounding. Love requires Communion.

It is there that Love takes on all its properties and all of its varied and diverse forms. It is here in this moment, when it is shared that the seed of faith grows, that hope is renewed, and that Love takes root.

Any setback, any humiliation, any perceived foible or failure possibly seen by others, any heartbreak, any loss of possession, any separation of affection and touch, or even the sense of abject failure need not go unpurposed, unused, or wasted in the pursuit of this Communion of Love. The Spirit of God gives us fruits of grace especially in these humble moments when the consolations dry up and the earthly happiness ceases. The rains of grace shall come again, and the new day shall dawn once more and break from on high. This temporal winter so too shall pass. And even in these dry moments, there Love is.

"Love and truth will meet; justice and peace shall kiss. Truth will spring from the earth; justice shall look down from heaven." Psalm 85:11-12

And so it is, Love through Communion and Communion through selfless love. It isn't so much that we go wandering the world in search of Love in all the wrong places; it is that we have forgotten that it wasn't we who first loved but that we must realize that we must first be loved before we can learn to speak adequately in the language demanded by Love and of the One who created us. No single response is exactly the same to the demands of love. And those demands, which may seem high and distant at times or number many, distill into each the basic callings that each person receives as the seed to their very "vocation to love," as St. Therese of Lisieux once said.

"In this is love brought to perfection among us, that we have confidence on the day of judgment because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." 1 John 4:17-19

Her struggle to win herself over to her "Little Way" is as legendary as it is simple: to be all things to all, she must first be love for the other in her own distinct, simple, child-like way. She was not everything, and yet through Love's massive expanse she became, through the Communion of Love and through the Faith and Hope she professed, the Love she desired so much. She did not allow the stumbling block of fear to obscure the "lamp upon [her] feet" and "light of [her] path" (cf. Psalm 119:105).

Love has no other ultimate end besides Communion with God, who is Love. And so, while the impostor examples placate in the interim, anything that does not lead us to that ultimate end of Communion with Him—be it trifle or tempest, longing or largesse, silence or speech, climax or desolation, height or depth—we find ourselves unable to be filled, by which we are unable to be in lasting peace, and in the end through which we are unable to have everlasting life itself without this aim. No matter its tried and noble path, if it not end in love, then it would be all dross. Without this Love, supreme of all virtues, we would be nothing, for without Him we are. And with Him, no matter the past, Love conquerors all not by force but by simple unending Truth in Communion with the Creator Blest. "We love because he first loved us." (1 Jn 4:19)

Where else but first at the Sacrifice of the Cross at Calvary in the bloody form and then at the re-presentation at the Altar under the unbloody form of the Eucharist first instituted by Christ himself as a Sacrament of Love? Where else can Love come down to be poured into all the Faithful to both strengthen them and to show them Love's most sublime way of entering into Communion with His bride, the Church? Love has no end, except in Him. Let us return in love by whom all loves so beautifully excel in bringing one another God, in whom we are strengthened for the blessed race still to be run but that has already been won, and through Him we have everlasting life.

"At the Last Supper, on the night he was betrayed, our Savior instituted the Eucharistic Sacrifice of his Body and Blood. He did this in order to perpetuate the sacrifice of the cross throughout the centuries until he should come again, and so to entrust to his beloved spouse, the Church, a memorial of his death and resurrection: a sacrament of love, a sign of unity, a bond of charity, a paschal banquet in which Christ is consumed, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us." (Sacrosanctum Concilium 47)

Sacramental Life: A Fiat to Truth

The moment one forgets that the imperfection isn't an end but merely an illusionary setback, that it isn't an indictment alone but a vindication based upon the One Who Saves, upon His mercy, and upon the grace that flows from Him as a font of every blessing here on Earth below; not until then do we realize that His love, which is mercy and truth itself, is reason enough to strive for perfection in and by, and through His grace. Love has no further end but to beget further love in the deepest recesses and places of the heart of one's beloved and in the heart of whom, who bears Love's origin. It becomes senseless and without meaning, which it is to say life itself, when man forgets that primordial truth which springs from existence itself—that we are loved and that we are called to love within the boundless confines of eternity. Without a fiat to this truth, man cannot love, and if he cannot love then mercy and salvation cannot be fully accepted.

Love has no end until Love is espoused to the Other and in that espousal the Lover becomes fully known to the Beloved and the Beloved becomes fully known in the most intimate of espousals to the Lover.

This is the meaning of the Sacramental Life. That is to say: everything has meaning between the Lover and the Beloved, and the one who is loved—that is, the Beloved—wastes no time in reuniting with the Lover and desires nothing less than Communion, blessed Communion, with the One who loves without any reservation or fear.

We love the Other, not because we are first, but because "He first loved us" and because He first "espoused us."

The Active and the Contemplative

I rest on the active in the contemplative and the contemplative in the active. O, this state of melancholy! The rest one gains in this state is one of exhaustion of day and not the release of it. I know not if to figure it to be grace or vice—only that both the active and the contemplative verily exists and are present within this state throughout.

Moving to to the active in the contemplative, is it to be a combustion, an undying fire of devotion? How can the active, that thing which is pent up as bound energy, be expected to remain as full as it was when it was first received and then given as it is meant to be have been now?

How can we not have some loss of this fervor? It must be then with a Eucharistic Heart that we press on in both the contemplative and the active! It must be through a completely thankful heart, a heart full of thanksgiving that we can be both active and contemplative. It is with a heart full of thanksgiving that we can respond to, even stave off, the unpurposed sadness of melancholy and turn it into something more.

What next then? What do we do with this knowledge? We serve. How do we serve? With thanksgiving for His Love, for His Gift—timeless and unrepeatable—yet present in the Eucharist. It is here that the nexus of the active and the contemplative rests. It is the crossing of the two, and it is the stage of our lives. We live out the Eucharist by living out His Love.

And so His Love is this: selfless in its pursuit, relentless in its opportunities, shameless in its multitude of gifts, endless in its joy and fulfillment it brings.

Let us be One with this dynamic love. Let us live out His Love. Let us be One.

Not to us, Lord, not to us but to your name give glory because of your mercy and faithfulness.
Why should the nations say, “Where is their God?”
Our God is in heaven and does whatever he wills.
...
May you be blessed by the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.
The heavens belong to the Lord, but he has given the earth to the children of Adam.
The dead do not praise the Lord, not all those go down into silence.
It is we who bless the Lord, both now and forever.
Hallelujah! - Psalm 115:1-3, 15-18

The Vianney File

Below is what I've decided to call "The Vianney File." It's a series of four poems that I wrote during a visit to Houston for the dramatic performance Vianney about St. John Vianney. Sitting in the pew at the premiere, I wrote the following poems with my own voice but also with an attentive ear to St. John Vianney's life and his voice, specifically Vianney's love for the Eucharist and Confession.

In the first, Sanctus, I explore the timelessness of the Sacrifice and the words tied to it, specifically, "Sanctus." This one was written during the opening hymn before the performance. The sacred music did so much to raise my soul to write these words.

In the second, Moment of Grace, I have attempted to link the Eucharist and the necessary Reconciliation for that communion. I've also explored here some of the sacramental life in general that all Catholics are called to. This one came in rapid succession to the first. It also acts as a personal prayer of thanksgiving through the line "Soul rejoices over the Other." It is, in fact, a thanksgiving for the communion of persons shared that evening from the community of St. Mary's in College Station. The moments of grace and the moments of love are one in the same.

In the third, Weeping in Love, I explore a phrase used during the production by St. John Vianney: "Weeping in love." It's something Vianney did often, and through this poem I try to emulate with dignity. He did indeed find little rest, but it was because he emulated Jesus in giving of himself to his flock, to his loved ones. And so we must do, in our little ways, also.

The fourth, Faithful Families, is a poem of appeal. It is an appeal that was veiled in the historical nature of Vianney's time as well as ours today—the growing secularism of society and the general godlessness of today. This poem is meant as an arousal from the doldrums of our faith. It is a call to action.

If we do not rise to be of faithful families, how are we to go forth and positively change the world? Can it be done if we do not root ourselves first in the Faith? Love cannot be broached by lustful desire, and rightly so only the water He gives brings forth Eternal Life. His love does cover a multitude of sins, and, in this poem, the prayer goes forth for all to return to the fold.

The fourth poem took the longest to compose, seeing as the natural light in the Sanctuary disappeared as the performance continued on, but like ones before this one it was brought to fruition later before the Blessed Sacrament. Even so, I am nearly certain there will be more poems of the sort to fill this file, maybe some more trivial, but what matters most is not the secondary messenger but the Message itself. Here they are, as of yet...


Sanctus

What words to describe,
Life, love—timeless in sight...
What glory given—
Words, those words: Sanctus!

What joy in communion,
Faithful wonder and mystery,
Timeless joy in oneness—
Faithful communion, Sanctus!

What wonder in love,
Faceless and seen all the same,
What wonder in sight—
The moment becomes eternal, Sanctus!

What gift in love—
Blessed Communion in Spirit,
Blessed Communion in Host,
Blessed Communion in the Other,
Blessed Communion in Love!
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus!


Moment of Grace

Moment of grace,
Moment of love—
Absolution from the Mark,
Communion face-to-face!

Spirit graces Soul,
Soul rejoices over the Other,
Spirit and Soul soar skyward—
Soul speaks His Glory.

What gift immeasurable, the Moment
No length of time can compare
Where love and grace meet—
The Soul that is spared.

What glory to speak, a mystery
Without fear, without worry—
Perfect love casts out fear,
Soul rejoices over the Other.

Moment of grace,
Moment Eternal,
What love to revere!
Soul speaks His Glory!

Movement of heart,
From stone to life,
Where grasp is turned to gift,
Gift of face-to-face.

Heart Afire, Heart of Glory,
Speak to us now,
Speak to us with gift of grace,
Communion face-to-face!

Moment upon moment,
United through the moments
To love in the Moment—
To see His Glory face-to-face.


Weeping in Love

Weeping in love,
Immeasurable grief,
Abandonment to God's will,
Dependence in His Providence.

Weeping in love,
Fighting the tears,
What of my direction?
Am I even near?

Weeping in love,
Turning all to Him,
Leaving all behind,
Turning to His Grace.

Weeping in love,
Finding no rest,
No rest for the weary,
Only rest in Him.

Weeping in love,
No conversion without price,
No victory without defeat,
No joy without grief.

Weeping in love,
God fills in the lacking,
The missing He restores;
God gives His Love Restored.

Weeping in love,
All hearts are to be,
Given to the Other
In perfect harmony.

Weeping in love,
That is who we are to be.


Faithful Families

Family of the living,
Family of the past,
What have you done,
Forsaking all the past?

Where is thy devotion,
Where is thy love?
Where are your hearts
That are supposed to be burning with love?

In the brothels,
In the dens—
With wanton looks,
With the multitude of sins!

What choice is there
When love is broached
By lustful desire to be filled
And yet never is fully filled?

No amount of water
Will slake your deadly thirst,
Unless you drink of His water,
Unless you let Him love you first.

His love covers the multitude of sins;
The many souls He saves.
His love does this all;
The whole world He saves.

Don't you get this,
The magnitude of this message?
Don't you understand it,
The Truth in this Age?

He covers all in His love.
Return O families to Him.
With all mercy He restores,
By the Father's right hand, it is Him.

Grace upon grace,
No matter the distress,
Build a Civilization of Love—
Build on Him, the Mighty Fortress.

Faithful families rise up,
Let us pray fervently—
Pray for those lost souls—
Pray for His love to forever take hold—
Pray for mercy, mercy to behold—
Pray that all may return to the fold.

Bonfire of the Heart

Fear is a natural thing of life, but there is another kind a fear that paralyzes and tears one down. It can come from all sorts of areas of one's life, but the result is the same: inaction and weakness. Not only does fear take away hope, it makes us weak when we least expect it.

So this week was a decently okay week, but the clouds of fear did roll in, seeing as it is midterm season now. And so I receive the exam grades back, which didn't help things in general. I just feel so drained. The best way I can describe it is with an analogy.

So we have a ship, which I'll conveniently call the Titanic. Unsinkable, right? So this past week it hit an iceberg...or two. Now we have a gash in the hull and it's taking on water...sinking soon, yes.

What am I to do? What happens when fear gets a hold of us? We start arranging the deck chairs and pretend nothing's wrong. The band continues to play. What did we do with the lifeboats? We cast them overboard a week ago. What now?

Well, if we let fear take us over we don't realize that there's a few other options, more sensible options. One is to let the compartments flood, but only so much. We can take some water on and still survive, ship intact, and the passengers safely reaching shore in one piece and dry. We seal off the compartments and we limp to the finish line. So that's where I'm now.

Relatively speaking, I found the controls to shut the compartments last night. Something about last night was different, intrinsically changing. The Eucharistic Adoration was a moment at a spiritual mountaintop. Alas, we, like Moses, cannot stay at the mountaintop. But I left yesterday evening refreshed, renewed, and ready to implement my plan with all conviction and succeed. I know I will succeed.

At Daily Mass yesterday Father Brian mentioned something about fear in his homily, which was on my mind earlier in the day thinking about how I could salvage my classes. We are called not to have fear of this world. Nor are we are called to fear God's punishment so much because He loves us. We are to fear losing His love. How do we lose His love? Does He take it from us? No, it's always there. It's when we reject His love, a love we do not deserve nor have a valid reason to reject. We should fear losing Him, and let that drive us to Him even further, with even more passion. That is what it means to be God-fearing.

I was disappointed a little yesterday before the late night adoration, and it had to do with relationships and my conflicted heart. It seemed my heart was pulled in a new way between last week and those hardships I created then and now. God then put a stumbling block, a wake-up call before me, yesterday. It was in a most intriguing conversation my friend and I had, as I've never quite dealt with one as I did yesterday. I panicked a little. Then I reversed my thinking for leading it down solely a path of friendship. I like her more than that.

But the most ironic things is that it the third brick wall I've faced in the past year, almost precisely a year. And this time it's God working in her heart. How can I argue with God? It's always a losing battle. It was more of a bout of frustration, but it reminded me of the thoughts I've listed before with my April post Roller Coaster of Emotions.

I want to love her, but that road's blocked again. We've got to exit the road again and take another detour, but soon we'll return to the road once more.

And so, finally before I go for the weekend for a retreat, my first to go on (and not just staff, like Awakening) since my freshman year all those four years ago, I want to share a poem I wrote late in September called Bonfire of the Heart.

It was supposed to be something of a descriptive love poem of sorts, but it turned out different and I explored the themes of darkness and light. It brought me to Christ and how best to describe Him in the Eucharist. And so that's what I did. Christ, in the Eucharist, is our Bonfire of the Heart. He is our Daily Bread, our Saving Grace, Love beyond belief, o glorious part of the Blessed Trinity. He is our all.

So, my dear friends look upon the Bonfire and let your soul rest because you are home in Christ and shall forever be blest.


Bonfire of the Heart

The time draws near
To draw friends and strangers
Out of the darkness that lingers
And into the light that is here.

We are called to love
And not to give into present fears,
Opening our hearts and lending our ears
To the gifts given from above.

Add to these fires, every one of you,
The fears and doubts that you have,
And, in turn, Christ will make anew
Your heart with His rod and staff.

See before you the Bonfire of the Heart,
Christ's everlasting gift, His Sacrifice to you.
We are to share in His Sacrifice and take part,
Lifting up our struggles and making our lives new.

Rest in the Lord, all you troubled,
For the Bonfire still burns this day.
His Love and His Sacrifice are forever coupled,
And we are to take up our own cross and follow His Way.

Look upon the Bonfire and let your soul rest.
You are home in Christ and shall forever be blest.