The Mysteries Revealed to Children

In this temporal life we are led along a narrow path, at the end of which is a little door opening onto true life. In order to pass through that door we must first let ourselves be crucified on the cross which stands at the entrance. If suffering and fear turn us away, we will not enter.

It is true that for the most part our advice is not asked -- otherwise how few of the elect would pass through! But with trial comes faith, and with faith, graces, which are not distributed parsimoniously but with profusion. The yoke becomes sweet and the sorrow is turned into joy. What is hidden from the eyes of men becomes luminous for those whom the Lord is drawing. "Do not fear those who can kill the body and who after that can do no more."

Do you know this word of Christ: "I give you thanks, Father, for having revealed these things to little ones and having hidden them from the wise." It is true. All that is despised by the world becomes precious for the Lord's sake. What a troop of lame men, thieves, and assassins must surround him!...

These are great mysteries we are living through. Do not let us struggle against redemption, under the pressure of egotistical thoughts. The ways are numerous and varied, but the end is one. In the same way a mountain nine thousand feet in height, with a base fifty miles in circumference, has only one summit, yet there are hundreds of ways leading to it. Each one follows his own path and sees only what is within his range. If you climb up the northern side you can't see the southern, but once the top is reached the same panorama stretches out before all.

Jacques Fesch (died 1957) was a murderer who experienced a profound conversion before his execution in a French prison.

My heart is moved with pity

To rescue you from your passions, [the Word] took on a body, would you therefore set a yardstick on his great-famed Godhead? Has he sinned, in pitying you? To me, rather, he's the more amazing. For he didn't shave off any bit of Godhead, and still he saved me, stooping as a doctor over my foul-smelling passions. He was a man, but God. David's offspring, but Adam's Maker. A bearer of flesh, but, even so, beyond all body. From a Mother, but she a Virgin. Comprehensible, but immeasurable. And a manger received him, while a star led the Magi, who so came bearing gifts, and fell on bended knee. As a man he entered the arena, but he prevailed, as indomitable, over the tempter in three bouts. Food was set before him, but he fed thousands, and changed the water into wine. He got baptized, but he washed sins clean, but he was proclaimed by the Spirit, in a voice of thunder, to be the Son of the One Uncaused. As a man he took rest, and as God he put to rest the sea. His knees were wearied, but he bolstered the strength and knees of the lame. He prayed, but who was it who heard the petitions of the feeble? He was the sacrifice, but the high priest: making an offering, but himself God. He dedicated his blood to God, and cleansed the entire world. And a cross carried him up, while the bolts nailed fast sin. But what's it for me to say these things? He had company with the dead, but he rose from the dead, and the dead, the bygone, he raised up: there a mortal's poverty, here the incorporeal's wealth. Don't you dishonor, then, his divinity on account of his human things, but, for the divine's sake, hold in renown the earthly form into which, thoughtful towards you, he formed himself, the incorruptible Son.

St. Gregory Nazianzen (died 390) was a monk, a bishop, and a writer of letters, prayers, and poems.

Isaiah 9: 1-2, 5-6

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom
a light has shone.
You have brought them abundant joy
and great rejoicing.
As they rejoice before you as at the harvest,
as people make merry when dividing spoils.
For a child is born to us, a son is given us;
upon his shoulder dominion rests.
They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero,
Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.
His dominion is vast
and forever peaceful,
from David's throne, and over his kingdom,
which he confirms and sustains
By judgment and justice,
both now and forever.

Psalm 121

I lift up my eyes to the mountains:
from where shall come my help?
My help shall come from the Lord
who made heaven and earth.

May he never allow you to stumble!
Let him sleep not, your guard.
No, he sleeps not nor slumbers,
Israel's guard.

The Lord is your guard and your shade;
at your right side he stands.
By day the sun shall not smite you
nor the moon in the night.

The Lord will guard you from evil,
he will guard your soul.
The Lord will guard your going and coming
both now and forever.

Psalm 106

O give thanks to the Lord for he is good;
for his love endures for ever.
Who can tell the Lord's mighty deeds?
Who can recount all his praise?

Isaiah 40: 1-5

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated;
Indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord
double for all her sins.

A voice cries out:
In the desert prepare the way of the Lord!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill shall be made low;
The rugged land shall be made plain,
the rough country, a broad valley.
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all mankind shall see it together;
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

Psalm 126

When the Lord brought back the captives of Zion
   we were like men dreaming.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
   and our tongue with rejoicing.

Then they said among the nations,
   "The Lord has done great things for them."
The Lord has done great things for us;
   we are glad indeed.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord,
   like the torrents in the southern desert.
Those who sow in tears
   shall reap rejoicing.

Although they go forth weeping,
   carrying the seed to be sown,
they shall come back rejoicing,
   carrying their sheaves.

Song of Songs 2: 10-12

He says to me,
"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,
and come!
For see, the winter is past,
the rains are over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth."

The Stealthy Raid on Our Nature, Paul Claudel

When God took possession of the human form, when he appropriated it for his own use, when he placed himself withing it in hypostatic union, he committed an  unpardonable offense against justice, good sense, and propriety. Until the end of time, intellectuals will respond with alternating indignation and amusement. There are certain things that are simply not done. Let us therefore plant on the forked gibbet, in the sight of heaven, for the edification of all ages, this transgressor caught in the very act of stealing back a possession we had every reason to regard as exclusively ours.

In procuring from us the means to die, he robbed us of that right to annihilation which, since the original sin, has constituted the most obvious part of our basic capital. He embezzled our funds for his own profit. In one stroke he reclaimed for his Father all that cultivated estate which we considered ours by tenants’ rights, under the terms of a hard-won agreement. This is why he deserved the name of Thief that he himself officially assumed. Is it not written that "He who does not enter... by the door," where the devil mounts guard, "but climbs in by another way is a thief and a robber" (Jn 10: 1)?

Thanks to the complicity of the Virgin, there has been a stealthy raid on our nature. The damage is permanent; henceforth our walls are marred by a crack that for all our industry can never be mended again. "By my God I can leap over a wall," says the Psalmist (18: 30). Our homes are no longer our own.

Paul Claudel (died 1953) was a poet, a playwright, a diplomat, and a member of the French Academy.

Canticle of Zechariah; Luke 1: 68-79

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;
he has come to his people and set them free.
He has raised up for us a mighty savior,
born of the house of his servant David.

Through his hold prophets he promised of old
   that he would save us from our enemies,
   from the hands of all who hate us.

He promised to show mercy to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant.

This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham:
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
free to worship him without fear,
holy and righteous in his sight
   all the days of our life.

You, my child, shall be called the prophet
   of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,
to give his people knowledge of salvation
by the forgiveness of their sins.

In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness
   and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Canticle of Mary; Luke 1: 46-55

Magnificat

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.

He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.

He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.

O very God of very God

O very God of very God,
And very Light of Light,
Whose feet this earth's dark valley trod,
That so it might be bright:

Our hopes are weak, our fears are strong,
Thick darkness blinds our eyes;
Cold is the night, and, of, we long
That you, our Sun, would rise!

And even now, though dull and grey,
The east is brightening fast,
And kindling to the perfect day
That never shall be past.

Oh, guide us till our path is done,
And we have reached the shore
Where you, our Everlasting sun,
Are shining evermore!

Isaiah 54: 10

Though the mountains leave their place
     and the hills be shaken,
My love shall never leave you
     nor my covenant of peace be shaken,
     says the Lord, who has mercy on you.

Jeremiah 29: 11-14

I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call me, when you go to pray to me, I will listen to you. When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you, says the Lord, and I will change your lot; I will gather you together from all the nations and all the places to which I have banished you, says the Lord, and bring you back to the place from which I have exiled you.

Prayer for Hope

O God, we dare not place our hope in you
because we have no hope to place.
We have forgotten mercy, like the dew;
we have lost sight of days of grace.
Our heart's bowl brims with hollow emptiness.
Our dreams have vanished like the smoke
of incense burned to gods of faithlessness
upon an altar stone that broke.

O God, you have stirred up the darkened heart
with promises of light to come.
The embers of our cold hearth shift and start
a flicker that may yet become
the fire we fear because we shy from burns
our soul once suffered at the hands
of our own treachery. If life returns
for us, we dread rebirth's demands.

O God, ignore our plea for cold despair,
its ashes undisturbed, its chill
unwarmed by any hint borne on the air
by unseen angels, crying still
that promises are kept. Grant us instead
that small perturbing flick of flame
that wakens even in the living dead
just hope enough to call your name!

Extreme Measures, Fr. John Dominic Corbett, O.P.

It is a curious fact that the earliest Christian moralists were hesitant to embrace growth in "virtue" as the goal or description of the Christian moral life. This is because the term "virtue" suggested to them an inner mastery which bordered on self-sufficiency. This attitude of the pagans was always on the lookout for balance and emotional distance, and any unseemly display of joy or grief would have been despised by them as evidence of moral failure. But the mind of the Church has always been that the proper measure of love of God is to love God without measure. We Christians do not or should not silently reprove ourselves for "indiscretions." We mourn, or ought to mourn, our sins as though they were attending our own funeral. Likewise we Christians do not, or should not, give measured and discrete approval to God. Instead, we dance like fools because, against all the odds, we have been invited to God's own wedding feast. A measured response to a social indiscretion or to a job promotion is virtuous because these things are of only relative importance. But if we would see the life and death implications of our yes or our no to God, we would see that nothing less than a dirge or a dance will do.

Psalm 95

Come, let us sing joyfully to the Lord;
   let us acclaim the rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving;
   let us joyfully sing psalms to him.

Come, let us bow down in worship;
   let us kneel before the Lord who made us.
For he is our God,
   and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides.

Oh, that today you would hear his voice:
   "Harden not your hearts as at Meribah,
   as in the day of Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tempted me;
   they tested me though they had seen my works."

Psalm 144

Blessed by the Lord, my rock,
   who trains my hands for battle, my fingers for war.
My refuge and my fortress,
   my stronghold, my deliverer,
My shield, in whom I trust,
   who subdues my people under me.
O God, I will sing a new song to you;
   with a ten-stringed lyre I will chant your praise,
You who give victory to kings,
   and deliver David, your servant from the evil sword.

John 15:16

It was not you who chose me, says the Lord, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.

Rose Round: The signs of the Four Evangelists

"Is that your eagle, Theo?"
Theo laughed. "No, it's St. John's," he said.
"St. John's?"
"You know the four Evangelists have signs?" Theo said. "St. John has the eagle, which was said to fly unblinded towards the sun, because he is the one who looked longest and deepest at Christ on earth and into the mystery of his being when he went back into his glory."
....
"And what's St. Luke, Theo?"
"St. Luke is a Bull."
"How queer! Why?" Matt asked.
"I'm not sure," said Theo. "Perhaps because the Bull is a sign of life: the zodiac bull comes in the spring, you know. He's the sign of generation and Christ is the regenerator of Man, and his sacrifice of his own life was made in the spring. He said himself that the seed must die to bring up the new corn. The signs are symbols of mystery: they let you look through the doors but they don't tell you everything at once. You can never know everything there is to know, that's why we shall be happy for ever in heaven if we get there."

Rose Round: The fourfold living signs of the soul

Signs of mystery, Theo had said, when he had seen the eagle in the north, before the hard winter and the time he had fallen off the roof. Theo wore an eagle in his ring, on his hand; it was his sign as well as St. John's, the great bird king of the air who flew unblinded towards the sun. But this bull-head was not less his, nor the lion and the man looking west, and Matt felt that they were his own too, and any man's, and in every man they lived.
But bulls are dangerous and wild, Matt thought, and lions too: they were beasts of the forest and the great plains and of desert and mountain, and were they hiding inside people, inside himself? Suppose the bull charged? The lion roared upon its prey? The eagle swooped on its victim? Suppose the man should change his face and become any or all of these, and no longer human? He was suddenly afraid; it was not only dangerous, it was terrifying to be alive, to be someone with all these unknown powers in his heart.
Then he saw Theo come through the western arch on the other side of the fountain, looking at the sun rising, and at him too.
"Theo," he said, holding on to the stone basin with his hands and looking through the falling water. "I was thinking about the bull, and the others, how dangerous they are. Suppose they got loose? I know they're not real animals, but they are sort of real inside, aren't they? Suppose they did?"
"Well, they do sometimes," said Theo, smiling. He came up to the fountain. "They get very wild. Why do you think our world is in such confusion, with nations all quarreling and fighting, and people grabbing everything they can from each other, and making silly excuses to justify themselves? The beasts inside have got loose."
"I don't like them then," said Matt. Yet he had, in fact, felt only wonder and delight when he had seen them, and a kind of awe.
"Yes, you do like them," said Theo. "They are splendid. They are all kings. They are what makes you a king too. You are a man in your mind, an eagle in your spirit, a lion in the courage of your will."
"But the bull?"
"He's in the power of love," said Theo.
Matt said, "But they do go wild, you said so."
"Yes, they go wild," said Theo. "But look at the garden: it's a square, but a square in a circle. It has a center. Don't you remember talking about it on the tower?"
"The sun," said Matt. "The sun is the center."
"The sun is the center outside," said Theo. "It is the image of the one who is inside: Lux umbra Dei."
Matt looked at the golden sun rising. "If he's in the center, all's well with the sacred beasts," said Theo. "The Phoenix is their Lord."
The sun was shining in his nest of clouds, brighter and brighter, like the Phoenix in the rose of fire. Matt looked back at the fountain, the water that sprang up and fell back for ever.
"Then why is it our Lady who is here in the middle of the garden, Theo? Why not him?"
"Because this is our world," said Theo. "He chose to come into it through her. He is too great to fit into the ring of the world, this little pattern of our sun and our hearts, except by becoming her child, and so one of us. And yet if you look at it inside out you will see that all this, the solar circle, the seasons of time, the fountain of life, the fourfold living signs of the soul, and the Lady herself who said yes to the will of love, are all in him, only in him, and we see them clearer when we look at them in him. There are some people who will only see everything in themselves, but don't be one of them. Our selves are only moons to his sun: in his light all things are revealed as they are."

Circles around the Sun

"Look, the children are playing ball on the lawn, with Sam," said Alix.
Their figures, in a wide circle, were tiny far away, like another sundial, Matt thought, only these figures moved. Then Alix said it.
"They're like a sundial too."
"Games played in circles are games of the sun," said Theo.
"Ring of roses," said Matt. "The Rose Round."
He could see the Rose Round from here, away in its corner by the woods, and suddenly remembered looking through the telescope at it.
"We all go round the sun," said Alix.
"And the sun is the shadow of God," said Theo. "Lux Umbra Dei."

Rose Round, pg. 195.