The tragedies of this world take on their full meaning when one looks at life from a realistic point of view... We should not struggle against what has been decided by God. Men are only instruments, and if this seems obscure to those living in the world, it is not so for those who must share in this work of mercy. Certainly, it is not easy, and we must endure a very painful ordeal, but with the trial come graces, and then sadness is turned into joy.
Believe me, Mama, there is no injustice willingly accepted that does not bear fruit a hundredfold, and receive its just reward, prodigal beyond our comprehension. Do not think that all the sorrows that have overwhelmed our family in recent years are useless. On the contrary, they are necessary, in order that just reparation may be made, and that through this the love of Christ may be given us in all its fullness. The law of life is that some pay for others, young branches full of sap are cut back and old, unproductive boughs left in their place. This seems unjust, and it would be, if compensation far outweighing anything life could offer were not given to these victims, who are by the very fact privileged. Joy, then, not sadness! If life is worth living and if you feel weary and exhausted to the point of death, it is because your soul is famished for the life-giving nourishment which will yield unending joy.
It is only recently that I have come to understand the meaning of the cross. It is at once prodigious and atrocious: prodigious because it gives us life, and atrocious because if we do not accept to be crucified all life is denied us. This is a great mystery, and blessed are the persecuted.
--Jacques Fesch
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Respect for the Poor
"Assistance to the unfortunate honors when it treats the poor man with respect, not only as an equal, but as a superior--since he is suffering what perhaps we are incapable of suffering; since he is a messenger of God to us, sent to prove our justice and charity, and to save us by our works."
--Frederick Ozanam, quoted by James Patrick Derum in Apostle in a Top Hat
--Frederick Ozanam, quoted by James Patrick Derum in Apostle in a Top Hat
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Psalm 39: 8-13
Set me free from all my sins,
do not make me the taunt of the fool.
I was silent, not opening my lips,
because this was all your doing.
Take away your scourge from me.
I am crushed by the blows of your hand.
You punish man's sins and correct him;
like the moth you devour all he treasures.
Mortal man is no more than a breath;
O Lord, hear my prayer.
O Lord, turn your ear to my cry.
Do not be deaf to my tears.
In your house I am a passing guest,
a pilgrim, like all my fathers.
Look away that I may breathe again
before I depart to be no more.
do not make me the taunt of the fool.
I was silent, not opening my lips,
because this was all your doing.
Take away your scourge from me.
I am crushed by the blows of your hand.
You punish man's sins and correct him;
like the moth you devour all he treasures.
Mortal man is no more than a breath;
O Lord, hear my prayer.
O Lord, turn your ear to my cry.
Do not be deaf to my tears.
In your house I am a passing guest,
a pilgrim, like all my fathers.
Look away that I may breathe again
before I depart to be no more.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Isaiah 50:4-9
The Lord God opens my ear that I may hear;
and I have not rebelled,
have not turned back.
I gave my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;
my face I did not shield
from buffets and spitting.
The Lord God is my help,
therefore I am not disgraced;
I have set my face like flint,
knowing that I shall not be put to shame.
He is near who upholds my right;
if anyone wishes to oppose me,
let us appear together.
Who disputes my right?
Let that man confront me.
See, the Lord God is my help;
who will prove me wrong?
and I have not rebelled,
have not turned back.
I gave my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;
my face I did not shield
from buffets and spitting.
The Lord God is my help,
therefore I am not disgraced;
I have set my face like flint,
knowing that I shall not be put to shame.
He is near who upholds my right;
if anyone wishes to oppose me,
let us appear together.
Who disputes my right?
Let that man confront me.
See, the Lord God is my help;
who will prove me wrong?
Monday, October 10, 2011
1 Corinthians 4:3-5
It does not concern me in the least that I be judged by you or any human tribunal; I do not even pass judgment on myself; I am not conscious of anything against me, but I do not thereby stand acquitted; the one who judges me is the Lord. Therefore, do not make any judgement before the appointed time, until the Lord comes, for he will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will manifest the motives of our hearts, and then everyone will receive praise from God.
Psalm 7
Give judgement for me, Lord; I am just
and innocent of heart.
Put an end to the evil of the wicked!
Make the just stand firm,
you who test mind and heart,
O just God!
God is the shield that protects me,
who saves the upright of heart.
God is a just judge
slow to anger;
but he threatens the wicked every day,
men who will not repent.
God will sharpen his sword;
he has braced his bow and taken aim.
For them he has prepared deadly weapons;
he barbs his arrows with fire.
Here is one who is pregnant with malice,
conceives evil and brings forth lies.
He digs a pitfall, digs it deep;
and in the trap he has made he will fall.
His malice will recoil on himself;
on his own head his violence will fall.
I will thank the Lord for his justice;
I will sing to the Lord, the Most High.
and innocent of heart.
Put an end to the evil of the wicked!
Make the just stand firm,
you who test mind and heart,
O just God!
God is the shield that protects me,
who saves the upright of heart.
God is a just judge
slow to anger;
but he threatens the wicked every day,
men who will not repent.
God will sharpen his sword;
he has braced his bow and taken aim.
For them he has prepared deadly weapons;
he barbs his arrows with fire.
Here is one who is pregnant with malice,
conceives evil and brings forth lies.
He digs a pitfall, digs it deep;
and in the trap he has made he will fall.
His malice will recoil on himself;
on his own head his violence will fall.
I will thank the Lord for his justice;
I will sing to the Lord, the Most High.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Excerpt from "Make us Worthy" by Anthony Esolen
We think that mercy is a sweeter and easier thing than justice, but it is not so; for justice takes us as we are, but mercy assaults us and batters at the gates of our heart, demanding that we be made new. Face to face with Love, the speaker in Herbert's poem, torn by both love and shame, wants to retreat, to go to that place more deserving of his sins. Sometimes sorrow is easier than joy, and despair more comforting than hope.
Make Us Worthy, Anthony Esolen
"Lord," said the centurion, abashed that Jesus had offered to visit his dying servant, "I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my servant shall be healed." For to enter under a man's roof is to submit to his hospitality, and the centurion -- a Gentile, and a leader of men -- knew that he could provide Jesus nothing to justify such a visit.
"Such faith I have not seen in all Israel!" Jesus exclaimed. "Go, your servant is healed."
We repeat the words of the centurion before receiving the Eucharist at Mass, as we repeat his act of faith, for just as he affirmed the sovereignty of Jesus -- he knew that Jesus did not have to be physically present to heal his servant, for the Lord commands, and his ministers obey -- so we affirm that Christ is present in the sacrament, though we cannot see him by our senses, and that Christ will heal our souls, which otherwise must lie sick unto death. So in the Eucharist Jesus enters under our roofs; but something else happens, more astonishing than that. We enter under his. We are given a foretaste of the wedding feast of the Lamb, the eternal Eucharist of joy and peace.
Won over by Christ
We of all people should know that if we are not worthy to open our homes to Christ, we are surely not worthy that he should open his home, which is Father and Son and the Spirit of Love they breathe, to us, dressed our rags of mortality and sin. But our sense of unworthiness may lead us along one of two paths. We may take the path of pride, disguised as humility, and beg the Lord to ignore us, even to cast us out of the feast into the darkness, where we will be more comfortable, we suppose, wailing and gnashing our teeth. That is, we will take only those gifts we think we deserve, ashamed to accept more. Or, despite our pride, despite even our shame, we will allow ourselves to be won over by Christ, and let him work the great miracle at the heart of the Eucharist. That miracle is not that he should be present to us under the species of bread and wine. It is, finally, that we should be made present to him, as worthy guests, cleansed of sin, well dressed, fit for that wedding feast.
That is the consummate miracle we see performed, quietly, in the final poem of George Herbert's posthumous volume, The Temple. It is well that this poem, simply called "Love," comes last, as if we had proceeded through the church doors and up the aisle, to kneel at last at the communion rail of death, or of that first moment beyond death, when we see the face of the Beloved. So Herbert imagines himself greeted by Love, and his reaction -- in full awareness of his sin -- is to hang back to turn aside. We think that mercy is a sweeter and easier thing than justice, but it is not so; for justice takes us as we are, but mercy assaults us and batters at the gates of our heart, demanding that we be made new. Face to face with Love, the speaker in Herbert's poem, torn by both love and shame, wants to retreat, to go to that place more deserving of his sins. Sometimes sorrow is easier than joy, and despair more comforting than hope.
The feast of Love
But Jesus will not let us go! He who sweat blood in Gethsemane, who was flogged and crowned with thorns, who carried the bitter cross up Calvary, who hung there till his heart burst, who was pierced with a lance for our offenses -- he is going to yield because we are shy? Not so. He took the initiative then, and takes the initiative now. He comes to us before we come to him. He takes us by the hand. He clears our eyes that we may see. He shuts fast the gates of hell so that we may not run away to hide there. He wants us to serve him always by allowing him to serve us, even with that food which is himself. He wants us to enjoy the feast of Love, because that is what he is, and what he would have us be:
Love bade me welcome, but my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here."
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and, smiling, made reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I have marred them -- let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.
And that is all, in language so simple a child could understand. But children know they are little, and feel neither pride nor shame in the presence of love. Let us be made such worthy children, to join the feast of the Lamb.
Anthony Esolen is a professor of English at Providence College, and a senior editor of Touchstone Magazine, and a regular contributor to Magnificat. He is the translator and editor of Dante's Divine Comedy, and the author of Ironies of Faith.
"Such faith I have not seen in all Israel!" Jesus exclaimed. "Go, your servant is healed."
We repeat the words of the centurion before receiving the Eucharist at Mass, as we repeat his act of faith, for just as he affirmed the sovereignty of Jesus -- he knew that Jesus did not have to be physically present to heal his servant, for the Lord commands, and his ministers obey -- so we affirm that Christ is present in the sacrament, though we cannot see him by our senses, and that Christ will heal our souls, which otherwise must lie sick unto death. So in the Eucharist Jesus enters under our roofs; but something else happens, more astonishing than that. We enter under his. We are given a foretaste of the wedding feast of the Lamb, the eternal Eucharist of joy and peace.
Won over by Christ
We of all people should know that if we are not worthy to open our homes to Christ, we are surely not worthy that he should open his home, which is Father and Son and the Spirit of Love they breathe, to us, dressed our rags of mortality and sin. But our sense of unworthiness may lead us along one of two paths. We may take the path of pride, disguised as humility, and beg the Lord to ignore us, even to cast us out of the feast into the darkness, where we will be more comfortable, we suppose, wailing and gnashing our teeth. That is, we will take only those gifts we think we deserve, ashamed to accept more. Or, despite our pride, despite even our shame, we will allow ourselves to be won over by Christ, and let him work the great miracle at the heart of the Eucharist. That miracle is not that he should be present to us under the species of bread and wine. It is, finally, that we should be made present to him, as worthy guests, cleansed of sin, well dressed, fit for that wedding feast.
That is the consummate miracle we see performed, quietly, in the final poem of George Herbert's posthumous volume, The Temple. It is well that this poem, simply called "Love," comes last, as if we had proceeded through the church doors and up the aisle, to kneel at last at the communion rail of death, or of that first moment beyond death, when we see the face of the Beloved. So Herbert imagines himself greeted by Love, and his reaction -- in full awareness of his sin -- is to hang back to turn aside. We think that mercy is a sweeter and easier thing than justice, but it is not so; for justice takes us as we are, but mercy assaults us and batters at the gates of our heart, demanding that we be made new. Face to face with Love, the speaker in Herbert's poem, torn by both love and shame, wants to retreat, to go to that place more deserving of his sins. Sometimes sorrow is easier than joy, and despair more comforting than hope.
The feast of Love
But Jesus will not let us go! He who sweat blood in Gethsemane, who was flogged and crowned with thorns, who carried the bitter cross up Calvary, who hung there till his heart burst, who was pierced with a lance for our offenses -- he is going to yield because we are shy? Not so. He took the initiative then, and takes the initiative now. He comes to us before we come to him. He takes us by the hand. He clears our eyes that we may see. He shuts fast the gates of hell so that we may not run away to hide there. He wants us to serve him always by allowing him to serve us, even with that food which is himself. He wants us to enjoy the feast of Love, because that is what he is, and what he would have us be:
Love bade me welcome, but my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here."
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and, smiling, made reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I have marred them -- let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.
And that is all, in language so simple a child could understand. But children know they are little, and feel neither pride nor shame in the presence of love. Let us be made such worthy children, to join the feast of the Lamb.
Anthony Esolen is a professor of English at Providence College, and a senior editor of Touchstone Magazine, and a regular contributor to Magnificat. He is the translator and editor of Dante's Divine Comedy, and the author of Ironies of Faith.
Psalm 98
The Lord has made his salvation known:
in the sight of the nations he has revealed his justice.
He has remembered his kindness and faithfulness
toward the house of Israel.
All the ends of the earth have seen
the salvation by our God.
Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands;
break into song; sing praise.
Sing praise to the Lord with the harp,
with the harp and melodious song.
With trumpets and the sound of the horn
sing joyfully before the King, the Lord.
in the sight of the nations he has revealed his justice.
He has remembered his kindness and faithfulness
toward the house of Israel.
All the ends of the earth have seen
the salvation by our God.
Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands;
break into song; sing praise.
Sing praise to the Lord with the harp,
with the harp and melodious song.
With trumpets and the sound of the horn
sing joyfully before the King, the Lord.
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