Just a simple blog of a Secular Franciscan trying to live with a Franciscan focus. (And one of these days I'll fix the template and add a Search feature. :-P)
I don't know about you, but I'm one of those people who needs to use her imagination in prayer and meditation. For me, it's a great focusing aid and helps me ride herd on my strayin' thoughts. As St. Ignatius of Loyola describes it in his Spiritual Exercises:
"Here it is to be noted that, in a visible contemplation or meditation -- as, for instance, when one contemplates Christ our Lord, Who is visible -- the composition will be to see with the sight of the imagination the corporeal place where the thing is found which I want to contemplate. I say the corporeal place, as for instance, a Temple or Mountain where Jesus Christ or Our Lady is found, according to what I want to contemplate." ("First Exercise")
In other words, use your imagination to create as real and vivid an image as possible while contemplating stuff like Jesus teaching in the temple, or Elizabeth greeting Mary. I'm always looking for ways to do this, and I thought I'd share one that I came up with the other day. It was triggered by the following passage in The Blessed Eucharist: Our Greatest Treasure:
"A holy nun who had suffered very much in this life appeared after her death to one of her sisters in religion. She told her that she would willingly return to the world and undergo once more all the pains she had suffered here on earth, provided she could say but one Hail Mary, because by that one prayer, her glory and joy would be increased by one degree for all eternity. (P. Michael a St. Catherine, Lib. III, Tract. 16)" (pp. 95-96)
The author used the anecdote to illustrate his point that, if the blessed in Heaven are willing to do so much for one Hail Mary, what more would they do for one Communion? And I got that, but what really stuck with me was the "one Hail Mary". One Hail Mary ... why don't I pray it more often? There's no reason to limit it to the confines of the Rosary or Angelus. It's such a short, simple prayer, and it's certainly a better thing to have in my head than the usual banal chatter careening about in there. And it's a beautiful way to tell our Blessed Mother how much I love her, which I really should do more often.
So, as I settled into bed that night, I imagined ...
... an endless garden in which there grew all the species and hybrids of roses in existence, whose perfume filled the air. The grass was bright green, the sky was deep blue, and trees of every kind dotted the landscape, as did pools and lakes and flowing rivers of varying sizes. The sun shone brightly, but didn't scorch or blind. Birds called from the trees and water and sky, fish flashed through the streams, and animals played peaceably among the roses.
In the garden's center was a trellis whose size dwarfed the baldacchino in St. Peter's Basilica, with roses climbing, cascading, and sticking out all over. The trellis towered over a large, white marble dais, veined in gold, silver, and bronze. On the dais sat a polished, high-backed cedar bench whose entire surface was carved with roses, animals, birds, and fish. A plush, amethyst cushion covered the seat. The armrests on each side of the bench curved gently inward, giving it a crescent-shaped appearance.
Sitting on the bench were Mary and Joseph -- he, with his right arm around her; she, resting her head on his shoulder. The young couple were dressed in royal splendor -- flowing, gold-embroidered robes and mantles. Mary's dress was ruby, her veil and mantle sapphire. Joseph's robe was emerald and his mantle jasper. The matching embroidery on their clothes was of the Sacred Heart, which was depicted in varying sizes. Both wore gold crowns with the Sacred Heart as points.
Vases and bowls and containers of all shapes, colors, materials, and sizes covered the dais and surrounded the bench, and roses were arranged in all of them. Those roses represented all the Hail Marys I'd prayed throughout my life, but the containers were not full by any means.
I imagined myself as I was as at age 9. I wore a simple, pink dress, and I stood barefoot before the Holy Spouses, holding a long-stemmed red rose. As I prayed a Hail Mary, I presented to Our Lady the rose, which she delightedly accepted. Joseph laughed with joy at her happiness. I prayed another Hail Mary and gave her another rose, which had appeared in my hands. With each Hail Mary, a new rose appeared for me to give, and the rose that Mary had been holding re-appeared in one of the vases and bowls and containers.
As I now pray the Hail Mary, not only do I pray it for the usual reasons, but I seek also to fill the dais to overflowing with roses before I die. Not so much to increase my degree of glory or joy in heaven, but simply to make Mary and Joseph as happy as I can, while I can.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
(Robert Herrick, "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time")
For a version of the Regina Caeli that'll knock yer socks off, look no further. HAPPY EASTER!
Regina Caeli by Marco Frisina
Regina caeli, laetare, alleluia:
Quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia.
Resurrexit sicut dixit, alleluia.
Ora pro nobis Deum, alleluia.
V. Gaude et laetare, Virgo Maria, alleluia.
R. Quia surrexit Dominus vere, alleluia.
- - - - -
Queen of heaven rejoice, alleluia:
For He whom thou didst merit to bear, alleluia,
Hath arisen as He said, alleluia.
Pray for us to God, alleluia.
V. Rejoice and be glad, O Virgin Mary, alleluia.
R. Because the Lord is truly risen, alleluia.
In Fr. Jay Toborowsky's post, Spy Wednesday, he mentions artistic depictions of Judas at the Last Supper, and that reminded me of something I've done for as long as I can remember when looking at Last Supper images.
Before I can take in the piece as a whole, I Must Find Judas. I can't enjoy it until I do. It's like I'm compelled to play a version of Where's Waldo? every time I see the Last Supper.
I quickly scan through all the apostles, holding my breath until I find him.
Who's missing a halo?
Or sporting a just-sucked-on-lemons countenance?
Or sitting apart from the others?
Or clutching a money-bag?
Then ... a-HA! There he is! OK, now I can take it easy and look at the rest of the piece.
I love Msgr. Charles Pope's post about Confession, which is chock full of responses to common dodges folks employ when it comes to Just Doing It. His reply to the "I don't have a lot of time and am not available to go at the usual time" one made me chuckle out loud:
"Most priests are quite willing to make time to hear confessions at other than usual times. This is one of the essential reasons we were ordained."
Speaking of Confession, that reminds me of an arse-kicking vignette from when I went this weekend (in preparation for Holy Week, which also happens to be what Msgr. Pope recommended):
After I left the confessional and was heading over to do my penance and pray a mite, I saw they'd set up an additional spot for confessions near the tabernacle (where I was going). Obviously, I kept my distance, and then got down to business penance-ing and praying. When done, I looked up in time to see the priest bless and pronounce the words of absolution over a penitent, and ... it was The Most Wonderful Sight To Behold. Right there, in living color, I saw a soul set free from sin. Watching the purple-stoled priest making the sign of the cross over the penitent filled me with joy that God gave us such a life-saving sacrament, and gratitude for that particular priest (and all priests) answering God's call to serve His people.
I wound up staying longer than planned just so I could watch the whole thing again ("Do it again!") with another penitent, feeling for all the world like a giddy toddler watching her father do a magic trick. Only, it wasn't slight-of-hand or shadow-puppetry, it was The Real Deal.
One of the extremely neat bits about this Lent for me is all the serendipitous reading that keeps happening. For example, earlier today, I was thinking about the upcoming Showtime mini-series, The Borgias, and how to respond should anyone bring up the subject and ask, "Look at that filth! How can you possibly be part of an institution that had them in it?!"
"The point is that, if the life, vigor, holiness, and efficacy of the Church depended only upon the virtue of priests and bishops, it would have been dead-on-arrival, not surviving that afternoon when the sun hid in shame and the earth shuddered in sadness.
"Our faith is not in popes, cardinals, bishops, priests, or even in monsignors. Nope: our faith is only in Jesus. He and He alone will never let us down; He will never sin; He and He alone will never break a promise; He and He alone deserves our absolute trust and confidence.
"That's why it's especially tragic when someone leaves Jesus and His Church because of a sin, scandal, or slight from a priest or bishop. If your faith depended on us, it was misplaced to begin with. We priests and bishops might represent Jesus and shepherd His Church, however awkwardly -- but we are not Jesus and His Church." Read the full article.
The rules: Those tagged will share 5 things they "love" about Jesus, or why they love Jesus. Those tagged will tag 5 other bloggers. Those tagged will provide a link in the comments section here with their name so that others can read them.
Interesting how I came across it mere minutes after pondering how I'll decorate the cover of my next spiritual journal: I'm on The Very Last Page (filled up pages faster'n usual due to my daily Lenten scribblings) and will have to start a new one tomorrow or Friday. On the cover (it's just a cheap, spiral-bound, quad-ruled dealio), I've taped a gigantor card with a prayer to St. Francis of Assisi, along with another card of Francis' prayer before the San Damiano crucifix.
For the next notebook, I was thinking I'd maybe slap on some Josephite ones, but didn't wanna sacrifice any of my current cards ... and then I found the Josephy site. Now I can print, cut out, and tape ones from there to my heart's content! Well, my heart's content as squooshed into an 8.5-by-11-inch area. This one of Joseph and Jesus, and this Holy Family one (on the main Holy Card Heaven blog), are Way Top Contenders.
I don't know about you, but I'm one of those people who needs to use her imagination in prayer and meditation. For me, it's a great focusing aid and helps me ride herd on my strayin' thoughts. As St. Ignatius of Loyola describes it in his Spiritual Exercises:
