Myrrh-Bearing Women

"On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.  They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.  While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them.  In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee:  ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ”  Then they remembered his words."  ~Luke 24:1-8

Myrrh-Bearing Women by C.J.

 I have a friend who is an extremely talented artist. She uses her gift to prayerfully paint icons, and more than that, she shares her vast knowledge of prayerful art with me, increasing my appreciation for the gifts of beauty which are inspired by the very breath of God, the Holy Spirit. When she was working on the above icon, she brought it to my house and invited me to add gold to the halo of one of the three women standing outside of the tomb at the Resurrection of our Lord. I chose the woman that I thought would be Mary Magdalene.  She is depicted as the woman in red, representing her sin, covered by green representing her new life in Christ. I carefully applied the gold by first holding a prayer in my heart and then breathing upon the image. They say that every stroke and motion of icon painting is a prayer. So on that not so distant day I breathed a prayer to one of my favorite saints who always holds a favored place in my heart because she loved much and I long to emulate that quality in my own life. I want to cast my soul at the feet of our Lord and breathe continuous prayers of love to His Most Sacred Heart. I want to carry an alabaster jar of fragrant oil into the world and spread His love to others. I want to love much.

The following poem was written by Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald, sP, the founder of the Handmaids of the Precious Blood.  It's one of my favorites.  Wishing you a joyous Easter as we glory in our own redemption from our sins and cast our sorrow aside while rejoicing in the beauty of our own new life in our Risen Lord!

To Saint Mary Magdalene

You claimed
the false
until you found
the True;
your beauty
wounded
until Beauty
wounded you,
and plunged your soul
into a spring so sweet
your tears
fell as chaste pearls
at Mercy's
feet.

(a partial re-post from the archives)

In The Garden by Fr. Mark Kirby

Are you familiar with Fr. Mark Kirby's Vultus Christi blog?  His prolific writings are always achingly beautiful and his prayers for priests are especially touching.  I have always felt a strong connection to Jesus' Agony in the Garden, and after reading Fr. Kirby's reflection about how the Blessed Mother suffered during Christ's agony there, that connection feels even stronger, for I too, am a mother who knows of the sorrows of her sons born of her flesh as well as her spiritual priest sons, yet must stand by helplessly, unable to offer physical relief.  I pray that God sends the comfort of angels at the moments when they are most in need.  What follows below is Fr. Kirby's reflection, In the Garden.  In these final moments as we await Easter joy, won't you reflect and pray upon this scene with me?  Please visit and bookmark his blog for more inspiration.



In the garden,
His Face was unseen,
for the eyes of His friends had grown heavy with sleep,
and there was none to meet the gaze of the Sorrowing Son
other than the Sorrowing Father
and the Consoling Angel whom He had sent
to wipe His brow,
to caress His head
and, for a moment, to hold His hand.

This the Sorrowing Mother would have done
had she been there,
but even that was denied her.
The Mother was replaced by an Angel!
The consolation that only she could have given
was given by another,
and yet He knew the difference:
though sweet, it was an angel’s, not a mother’s.

Weeping like Eve outside the garden,
she consented to the bitter Chalice:
“Be it done unto me as to your Word!”
Chosen for this, she elected to remain
cloistered in the Father’s Will,
hidden and veiled in grief,
to drink there of the Chalice of her Son, the Priest,
and savour it, bitter against the palate of her soul,
for nought can taste a child’s suffering
like a mother’s palate.

Then the Angel too was gone
and the Father hid behind the veil of blood and of tears,
leaving the Son alone with His sorrow
and with His fear,
to proceed with the Sacrifice:
the priest on the way to the altar
with the chalice already in his hands.
~Fr. Mark Kirby

Good Friday Stone by Sherry Antonetti

On this day when we remember our many weaknesses and thank Jesus for His deep and sacrificial love which washes away our sins, I came across this poem which spoke to me of my own frailty in faith.  It was written by Sherry Antonetti who graciously agreed to let me share it here.  Sherry blogs at Chocolate for Your Brain.

Good Friday Stone

How brave we all feel
saying something daring
when it is popular.
How terrified when
we must speak against the grain.
Everyone loves to think
they are standing at the precipice
but only those who can see the down side
the great expanse ready to swallow them whole
really are.

Peter knew the absolute truth
and he ran, he swore, he lied.
I am not ready
I haven't the steel
I like too much to be liked.
I'd like to warm myself by the fire
and be silent.
I could still believe, still follow
if no one noticed me.
It doesn't work that way
and I knew it. I always knew.
So I will pray not to be put to the test,
or if I am, and I fail, that I return
again and again and again
until I pass.

The mountain falling on me would be easier.

~Sherry Antonetti

Mary, Untier of Knots

Mary, Untier of Knots

Early in the morning I was rushing to great dressed while keeping one eye on the clock hoping that I wouldn't be late for Mass and fearing that I was losing the battle against time.  Each morning I slip my wedding ring on my finger and clasp my favorite necklace around my throat before I rush out the door. No matter how many layers of clothing I put on to adjust to the weather outside, I'm not fully dressed without my wedding ring and my necklace.  The chain of my necklace holds four symbols of my faith that are as much a part of me as my wedding ring-I wear the emblem of the Oblates of the Precious Blood, a Miraculous Medal, a cross with a dove on it which was the first gift my husband ever gave to me so many years ago when we were dating, and a red sea glass heart which I stumbled across on a beach hunt while I was praying a novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  The sea glass heart is one of my most prized possessions because I felt it was a sign of love from Jesus Himself just for me.  I had it blessed by Bishop Hying, wrapped it in wire and wear it every day, frequently reaching up to touch it and offer a silent prayer of trust to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Well on this particularly hectic morning, as I reached for my necklace, I found a huge knot in the chain.  I fumbled around with it a bit but didn't have any luck in undoing the knot.  So I shoved my necklace into my pocket and headed out to Mass.  After Mass I like to stay in the silent church to make a little holy hour, but this time instead of praying my usual prayers or walking the Stations of the Cross, I silently sat and tried to gently work the knot out of that chain.  My attempt to untie the knot became my prayer that day.  I thought about how our wonderful new Pope Francis has a devotion to Mary, and recently I learned that he prays to her as the Untier of Knots, and so, not knowing too much about her under this title, but being inspired by Pope Francis, I turned to her in prayer asking for her assistance not only with the knot in my necklace, but also for her guidance in helping me work through the other knots and problems in my life that could benefit from her loving, motherly attention. 

After 15 minutes of praying with my knotted necklace, I gave up that prayer for the time being, tucked the necklace back into my pocket and returned to my normal daily prayers.  Later, upon returning home, I took a paper clip and used it's sharp point to finally free the knot from the chain.  Sometimes our problems require not the only patience and perseverance that comes from setting them aside for a while, but also a sharp instrument to cut to the heart of the issue and finally bring about a resolution.  In the story that makes up our lives, we often find that the sharp instrument could come in the form of a hardship or suffering that we must learn to accept before we can finally be free to fully love the Lord and turn back from the sinfulness that often becomes knotted within our souls. And the Blessed Mother is a sure help to us as we work through those knots.

We are always at an advantage when we turn to our Blessed Mother for assistance, aren't we?  How sweetly she helps us work out our problems all the while pointing to God from whom all of our help originates.  To learn more about Mary, Untier of Knots, visit here.

Prayer to Mary, Untier of Knots

Virgin Mary, Mother of fair love, Mother who never refuses to come to the aid of a child in need, Mother whose hands never cease to serve your beloved children because they are moved by the divine love and immense mercy that exists in your heart, cast your compassionate eyes upon me and see the snarl of knots that exist in my life. 
You know very well how desperate I am, my pain, and how I am bound by these knots. 
Mary, Mother to whom God entrusted the undoing of the knots in the lives of his children, I entrust into your hands the ribbon of my life. 
No one, not even the Evil One himself, can take it away from your precious care. In your hands there is no knot that cannot be undone. 
Powerful Mother, by your grace and intercessory power with Your Son and My Liberator, Jesus, take into your hands today this knot. (Prayer by Scott R. Richert)

Honor Your Mother

As are so many others, I am filled with gratitude to God for our new Pope Francis and am so honored to see the deep respect that he has for mothers.  This picture has become my very favorite of him.  I get goosebumps every time I look at it and read the quote that goes with it.  What a beautiful man who so openly reverences motherhood and remembers his own mother as well!  I pray that we may all follow his loving and holy example!

Earlier, in February 2005, Pope Francis chose to celebrate the Mass for Holy Thursday in a maternity hospital in Buenos Aires, where he washed the feet of 12 expectant and new mothers. Before he washed their feet, he told them that “Some of you are holding your babies in your arms. Others of you are carrying them in your womb. All of you are women who have chosen life. I, as a priest, am going to repeat the act of Jesus, and carry out a concrete act of service for women who have said yes to life. In washing your feet, I am washing those of all mothers, and of my mother, who felt me in her womb."  

~from "Love Being Catholic

Virgin Salus Populi Romani-the Protectress of the Roman People, the icon to whom Pope Francis brought flowers on his first day as Pope

Pope Francis offering flowers to the Virgin Salus Populi Romani

And what mother doesn't love to receive flowers from her children?  This image reminds me of the pudgy, often dirty hands of my own children, lovingly reaching up to me to offer a fistful of dandelions on a warm summer day.  Even our beloved Holy Father forever remains a child in the eyes of his Mother.  How sweet!  There is much to admire about a humble man who loves his Mother and brings her colorful and fragrant offerings of love!  Viva il Papa Francis!

At the Foot of the Cross

The expressions on the face of Christ and of His Blessed Mother speak the only necessary words...

Artwork by Hippolytes Lazerges 1817-1887

The Holy Face in the Way of the Cross XIV-Jesus is laid in the tomb

(The fourteenth  in a series of posts praying the Stations of the Cross...begin here and then follow along each day.)

Calm as a summer evening when no breezes are abroad, quiet as a noonday wood when all birds are songless, the Face of Jesus rests in death.  The Holy Countenance breathes by its very silence its last and final message:  "it is Consummated."  Not the malice of men, nor their ingratitude, is consummated, but the atonement for all human malice and ingratitude by the Sacrifice of that fair but now broken Humanity of God's Son.  With thoughtfulness too deep for words, with grief too deep for tears, the faithful disciples carry in tender haste the body of their Master to Joseph's tomb.

Jesus, because You were born in a cave and laid to rest in another man's tomb, I find courage to ask You to rest in this poor soul of mine.  It must have value in Your eyes, for You paid so readily a great price for its possession.  Take then, Jesus, what You have bought, and give me in return Your forgiveness and Your love.

Sorrowful Mother, rejoice with Jesus; He shall not have died in vain for me.

(From The Holy Face in the Way of the Cross with etchings by Hippolyte Lazerges and reflections by  Father Page, C.S.C. aka Fr. Gerald Fitzgerald, sP, the founder of the Handmaids of the Precious Blood, published by the St. Columban's Fathers Foreign Mission Society)