everything-isagrace:

This is every Mass.

everything-isagrace:

This is every Mass.

(via acatholicvibe)

LADY’S NIGHT - The Encounter

Happy Easter, everyone!  I apologize for my tardiness in posting this Lady’s Night that was originally intended for Easter Sunday.  I know that I missed my target date (and the entire Octave!), but at least we’re still in the Easter Season.

Recall from my previous posts that in many Catholic countries, Holy Week is marked by processions (as in Sevilla and Jerez de la Frontera, Spain) where the faithful bear life-size statues posed in vignettes of Christ’s final moments through the streets of town as a public expression of faith.  It is a sorrowful occasion where Nazarenos dress in the traditional garb of a penitent and the haunting strains of the mournful saeta float through the air. 

These statues, these processions are signs that speak to the human heart in ways that words cannot.  They remind the community that we have sinned and have lost the friendship of God; yet, they also give a most eloquent testimony that He would rather die that spend eternity without us.

As God’s little children, to whom did we turn as we walked the Via Crucis of our own lives, as we walked it in community about a month ago?  We mourned with and were comforted by the Blessed Mother whose Immaculate Heart—as prophesied by Simeon (cf. Luke 2:35)—was pierced by sorrow as with a sword. 

However, Our Lady of Sorrows who stood at the foot of the cross and witness the death of her Child would also witness the empty tomb.  On Good Friday, our Mother embraced the cross and crown, the nails and reed to share in the suffering of her dying Son and, in union with Him, surrender all to the Father’s will.  She truly taught us how to kiss the cross in bearing an agony so incredibly intense and profound. Likewise, who can ever imagine the ecstatic joy that she experienced on Easter Sunday when Life triumphed over death, Light defeated darkness, and when Love conquered all?  The Glorious follows the Sorrowful as dawn proceeds the night.

Joy is one of the marks of a Christian, for we are indeed Easter people.  Who better to give us an example of a joyful life of a Christian than the very first disciple of Christ, Our Lady.  At that first Easter encounter, the words of her Magnificat seem to be fulfilled:  “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior” (Luke 1:46-47).

In the Regina Caeli, which replaces the Angelus in the Easter Season, we recall the glorious Resurrection of Jesus and seek to share His Mother’s joy:

Queen of Heaven, rejoice, alleluia.
For He whom you did merit to bear, alleluia.
Has risen, as he said, alleluia.
Pray for us to God, alleluia.
Rejoice and be glad, O Virgin Mary, alleluia.
For the Lord has truly risen, alleluia.

There is an ancient tradition, popular especially among Franciscans, which holds that, although it is not recorded in the Gospels, Jesus first appeared to His Mother after the Resurrection.  In the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, there is even a Chapel of the Apparition to commemorate this event.

Bl. John Paul the Great spoke of this pious tradition in his address at the General Audience on May 21, 2997.

The expectation felt on Holy Saturday is one of the loftiest moments of faith for the Mother of the Lord: in the darkness that envelops the world, she entrusts herself fully to the God of life, and thinking back to the words of her Son, she hopes in the fulfilment of the divine promises.

The Gospels mention various appearances of the risen Christ, but not a meeting between Jesus and his Mother. This silence must not lead to the conclusion that after the Resurrection Christ did not appear to Mary; rather it invites us to seek the reasons why the Evangelists made such a choice.

On the supposition of an “omission”, this silence could be attributed to the fact that what is necessary for our saving knowledge was entrusted to the word of those “chosen by God as witnesses” (Acts 10:41), that is, the Apostles, who gave their testimony of the Lord Jesus’ Resurrection “with great power” (cf. Acts 4:33). Before appearing to them, the Risen One had appeared to several faithful women because of their ecclesial function: “Go and tell my brethren to go to Galilee, and there they will see me” (Mt 28:10).

If the authors of the New Testament do not speak of the Mother’s encounter with her risen Son, this can perhaps be attributed to the fact that such a witness would have been considered too biased by those who denied the Lord’s Resurrection, and therefore not worthy of belief…

It seems reasonable to think that Mary, as the image and model of the Church which waits for the Risen One and meets him in the group of disciples during his Easter appearances, had had a personal contact with her risen Son, so that she too could delight in the fullness of paschal joy.

Present at Calvary on Good Friday (cf. Jn 19:25) and in the Upper Room on Pentecost (cf. Acts 1:14), the Blessed Virgin too was probably a privileged witness of Christ’s Resurrection, completing in this way her participation in all the essential moments of the paschal mystery. Welcoming the risen Jesus, Mary is also a sign and an anticipation of humanity, which hopes to achieve its [fulfillment] through the resurrection of the dead.

Thus, it is fitting that there should be one more procession following the somber pasos of Holy Week. This time, instead of recalling to mind the 4th Station of the Cross, the people announce the Risen Christ by enacting this first Easter encounter between Mother and Son.  In fact, you might remember this video and this teaser pic.

On Easter morning, two processions the leave church and follow different routes:  one carries an image of our Risen Savior, the other bears a statue of Our Lady, still wearing the black mantle of sorrow.  At a designated time and location (usually the main street or plaza), the two processions meet.  Sometimes an image of St. John or St. Peter is carried back and forth between the two processions as they make their way towards each other, expressing our anticipation for this reunion after the tomb.

Then in some communities, especially in Italy, as Our Lady rounds the corner and first spots her living Son, she does as any mother would do:  she runs to Him, casting off her cloak of sadness.  Depending on the local custom, Jesus may also run towards His Mother as well. 

The streets that only days before witnessed the faithful carry an image of their crucified Savior in a slow and mournful procession as in a funeral march, now tremble beneath the running feet of those overflowing with Pascal joy in encountering the Risen Lord.

There are some who treat such examples of popular piety as mere quaint, folksy customs for old women and simple people, but I think there is some deep spiritual significance in these outward expressions of faith.

Such beautiful processions depicting the Easter encounter of Mary and Jesus communicate more than just a natural, familial response between a mother and her son.  They signify the relationship of the Church and her Risen Bridegroom.  Such processions speak of our desire to encounter and embrace our God and to continue living with Him forever even after the grave has swallowed our mortal bodies. 

Like our Blessed Mother, the Resurrection has filled us with great joy.  For as the psalmist joyfully sings, “You changed my mourning into dancing; you took off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness” (Psalm 30:12).  What else could be our response but to imitate her reaction in seeing her glorified Son?  Easter is a time to cast off our sluggish spirits and sinful habits which weigh our feet down.  Now, is the time to fly towards Jesus with wings of faith, as St. Paul says, like runners in a marathon who run, not aimlessly, but so as to win the race (cf 1 Cor 9:24, 26).

Although as I’ve said before, this post-Resurrection meeting between Jesus and His Mother is not mentioned in scripture, the Gospels do record other people’s reaction to the news of the empty tomb. 

In his homily for Easter Sunday, His Excellency, Archbishop Gomez of Los Angeles, points out that everyone in John’s Resurrection narrative seems to be running.  When Mary Magdalene discovers the stone of the tomb rolled away and Jesus’ body gone, she runs to tell the other disciples (cf. John 20:2).  At this astonishing news, St. John and St. Peter literally race to the tomb to see for themselves (cf. John 20:4). 

Why do they run?

First, their sprinting feet communicate their excitement and astonishment, as Archbishop Gomez states in his homily.  As St. Mary Magdalene’s wondrous news reaches the ears of St. John and St. Peter, I like to imagine that their hearts literally lift them to their feet and draw them to the tomb that they may see and believe (cf John 20:8).

They run because they have the first glimpses of the reality of the Resurrection.  They run because they can taste the victory won by Christ and are eager to experience first hand the glory of His triumph over sin and even over death itself.  They run because they are filled with hope that their Friend, their Lord and Savior, is truly alive again.

Psalm 42 very poetically speaks of our desire for God and the disciple’s desire to encounter the Risen Christ:  “As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God” (Psalm 42:2).  Water is a basic necessity for life; without it, we die.  If you were in a desert without water, and you saw an oasis in the distance, what would be your response?  Probably you would muster all the energy you had left and run to the life-giving spring.  Psalm 18 also says that God has given us “feet like a deer’s” (Psalm 18:34); that is, He gives us the means and motivation to run to Him who is the Living Water, our Refreshment, our Salvation, and our Hope. 

Therefore, like St. Mary Magdalene, St. Peter, St. John, and Our Lady, let us run to encounter the Risen Lord.  Apathy and complacency may attempt to slow us down, and Satan will try to steal our joy, but keep running; set your gaze on the empty tomb and the glorious cross, and run with all your strength.  However, if by chance you should stumble or fall, know that our Victorious Savior is running towards us as the father of the Prodigal Son ran towards his repentant child the moment he caught sight of him walking towards home (cf. Luke 15:20). 

[Photos:  not mine]

Re-blog for Good Shepherd Sunday

Re-blog for Good Shepherd Sunday

hannamuhlenkamp:

I have never seen a sacred heart like this before! :) I really like it! :)

hannamuhlenkamp:

I have never seen a sacred heart like this before! :) I really like it! :)

(via brangelo-deactivated20120806)

Rosary Walk at Montserrat:  The First Glorious Mystery

Here is an interesting visual representation of the Resurrection designed by the holy architect of the Basilica of Sagrada Familia, Servant of God Antoni Gaudí. 

What makes this a particularly engaging work of art is that you cannot see any of the faces of the holy women; it’s as if you are walking behind them and discovering the empty tomb on that first Easter.  Of the figures in the tomb, the only one that you can see is the angel. 

Another moving aspect about this depiction of the First Glorious Mystery is that you literally have to move in order to appreciate the entire narrative of Gaudí’s art work.  If you actually take a step back, you can see the reason for the glory of this mystery of the rosary:  the risen Christ in glory on the rock above the cave. 

In our lives, often we can become too focused on the minutiae of the moment; then, we loose sight of our Risen Lord.  But, when we take a step back, we can glimpse God’s will, His master design.  The tomb can seem overwhelming, but glory is present even there.  Step back, and set your heart on the One who has overwhelmed the grave.

[Photos:  taken on the Rosary Walk during our pilgrimage to the Basilica of Santa Maria de Montserrat]

O wonder of your humble care for us!
O love, O charity beyond all telling, to ransom a slave you gave away your Son!
O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ!
O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!
O truly blessed night, worthy alone to know the time and hour when Christ rose from the underworld!
Exsultet
"Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead"

"What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled. Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam’s son. The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: ‘My Lord be with you all.’ And Christ in reply says to Adam: ‘And with your spirit.’ And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light. ‘I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise. ‘I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person. ‘For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden. ‘Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image. ‘See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one. `I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you. ‘But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God. “The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages.”

A section of this ancient homily for Holy Saturday is quoted in the Catechism of the Catholic Church #635.
[Photo:  This is a pic that I took of the door leading to the Passion Facade while on pilgrimage to the Basilica of Sagrada Familia in Barcelona]

"Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead"

"What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled.

Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam’s son.

The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: ‘My Lord be with you all.’ And Christ in reply says to Adam: ‘And with your spirit.’ And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.

‘I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise.

‘I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person.

‘For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden.

‘Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image.

‘See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one.

`I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you.

‘But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God.

“The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages.”

A section of this ancient homily for Holy Saturday is quoted in the Catechism of the Catholic Church #635.

[Photo:  This is a pic that I took of the door leading to the Passion Facade while on pilgrimage to the Basilica of Sagrada Familia in Barcelona]

O Sacred Head, surrounded by crown of piercing thorn! O bleeding Head, so wounded, reviled and put to scorn! Our sins have marred the glory of Thy most Holy Face, yet angel hosts adore Thee and tremble as they gaze  I see Thy strength and vigor all fading in the strife, and death with cruel rigor, bereaving Thee of life; O agony and dying! O love to sinners free! Jesus, all grace supplying, O turn Thy face on me.  In this Thy bitter passion, Good Shepherd, think of me with Thy most sweet compassion, unworthy though I be: beneath Thy cross abiding for ever would I rest, in Thy dear love confiding, and with Thy presence blest. But death too is my ending; In that dread hour of need, My friendless cause befriending, Lord, to my rescue speed: Thyself, O Jesus, trace me, Right passage to the grave, And from Thy cross embrace me, With arms outstretched to save.

[Photo:  “The Crowning with Thorns” taken on the Rosary Walk during my pilgrimage to the Basilica of Santa Maria de Montserrat near Barcelona, Spain]

O Sacred Head, surrounded
by crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,
reviled and put to scorn!
Our sins have marred the glory
of Thy most Holy Face,
yet angel hosts adore Thee
and tremble as they gaze

I see Thy strength and vigor
all fading in the strife,
and death with cruel rigor,
bereaving Thee of life;
O agony and dying!
O love to sinners free!
Jesus, all grace supplying,
O turn Thy face on me.

In this Thy bitter passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me
with Thy most sweet compassion,
unworthy though I be:
beneath Thy cross abiding
for ever would I rest,
in Thy dear love confiding,
and with Thy presence blest.

But death too is my ending;
In that dread hour of need,
My friendless cause befriending,
Lord, to my rescue speed:
Thyself, O Jesus, trace me,
Right passage to the grave,
And from Thy cross embrace me,
With arms outstretched to save.



[Photo:  “The Crowning with Thorns” taken on the Rosary Walk during my pilgrimage to the Basilica of Santa Maria de Montserrat near Barcelona, Spain]

PSALM 22
My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Why so far from my call for help,
from my cries of anguish?
My God, I call by day, but you do not answer;
by night, but I have no relief.
Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
you are the glory of Israel.
In you our fathers trusted;
they trusted and you rescued them.
To you they cried out and they escaped;
in you they trusted and were not disappointed.
But I am a worm, not a man,
scorned by men, despised by the people.
All who see me mock me;
they curl their lips and jeer;
they shake their heads at me:
“He relied on the LORD—let him deliver him;
if he loves him, let him rescue him.”
For you drew me forth from the womb,
made me safe at my mother’s breasts…
Do not stay far from me,
for trouble is near,
and there is no one to help.
Many bulls surround me;
fierce bulls of Bashan encircle me.
They open their mouths against me,
lions that rend and roar.
Like water my life drains away;
all my bones are disjointed.
My heart has become like wax,
it melts away within me.
As dry as a potsherd is my throat;
my tongue cleaves to my palate;
you lay me in the dust of death.
Dogs surround me;
a pack of evildoers closes in on me.
They have pierced my hands and my feet
I can count all my bones.
They stare at me and gloat;
they divide my garments among them;
for my clothing they cast lots.

[Photo:  “Scourging at the Pillar” taken on my pilgrimage to the Chapel of the Scala Sancta in Rome]

PSALM 22

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

Why so far from my call for help,

from my cries of anguish?

My God, I call by day, but you do not answer;

by night, but I have no relief.

Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;

you are the glory of Israel.

In you our fathers trusted;

they trusted and you rescued them.

To you they cried out and they escaped;

in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

But I am a worm, not a man,

scorned by men, despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;

they curl their lips and jeer;

they shake their heads at me:

“He relied on the LORD—let him deliver him;

if he loves him, let him rescue him.”

For you drew me forth from the womb,

made me safe at my mother’s breasts…

Do not stay far from me,

for trouble is near,

and there is no one to help.

Many bulls surround me;

fierce bulls of Bashan encircle me.

They open their mouths against me,

lions that rend and roar.

Like water my life drains away;

all my bones are disjointed.

My heart has become like wax,

it melts away within me.

As dry as a potsherd is my throat;

my tongue cleaves to my palate;

you lay me in the dust of death.

Dogs surround me;

a pack of evildoers closes in on me.

They have pierced my hands and my feet

I can count all my bones.

They stare at me and gloat;

they divide my garments among them;

for my clothing they cast lots.



[Photo:  “Scourging at the Pillar” taken on my pilgrimage to the Chapel of the Scala Sancta in Rome]

"CRUX FIDELIS" by Venantius Fortunatus
Sing, my tongue, the Savior’s glory. Tell His triumph far and wide. Tell aloud the famous story of His body crucified, how upon a cross a Victim, vanquishing in death, He died. 
Eating of the tree forbidden, man has sunk in Satan’s snare, when our pitying Creator did this second tree prepare; destined, many ages later, that first evil to repair.
Such the order God appointed when for sin He would atone; to the serpent thus opposing schemes yet deeper than his own; thence the remedy procuring, whence the fatal wound had come. 
So when now at length the fullness of the sacred time drew nigh, then the Son, the world’s Creator, left his Father’s throne on high; from a virgin’s womb appearing, clothed in our mortality. 
All within a lowly manger, Lo, a tender babe He lies! See His gentle Virgin Mother lull to sleep His infant cries! While the limbs of God incarnate round with swathing bands she ties. 
Thus, with thirty years accomplished, went He forth from Nazareth. Destined, dedicated, willing, wrought His work and met His death. Like a lamb He humbly yielded on the cross His dying breath. 
He endured the nails, the spitting, vinegar, and spear, and reed. From that holy Body broken blood and water forth proceed. Earth, and stars, and sky, and ocean, by that flood from stain are freed. 
Faithful Cross above all other, one and only noble Tree! None in foliage, none in blossom, none in fruit they peers may be. Sweetest wood and sweetest iron! Sweetest Weight is hung on thee! 
Lofty tree, bend down thy branches, to embrace thy sacred Load. Oh, relax the native tension of that all too rigid wood. Gently, gently bear the members of thy dying King and God. 
Tree, which solely was found worthy the world’s Victim to sustain. Harbor from the raging tempest! Ark, that saved the world again! Tree, with sacred blood anointed of the Lamb for sinners slain. 
To the everlasting Father, and the Son who reigns on high, with the Holy Ghost proceeding forth from each eternally, be salvation, honor, blessing, might, and endless majesty.
[Photo:  I took this pic of the crucifix above the altar in the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament (Sacramento, CA) at my friends’ ordinations]

"CRUX FIDELIS" by Venantius Fortunatus

Sing, my tongue, the Savior’s glory.
Tell His triumph far and wide.
Tell aloud the famous story
of His body crucified,
how upon a cross a Victim,
vanquishing in death, He died. 

Eating of the tree forbidden,
man has sunk in Satan’s snare,
when our pitying Creator did
this second tree prepare;
destined, many ages later,
that first evil to repair.

Such the order God appointed
when for sin He would atone;
to the serpent thus opposing
schemes yet deeper than his own;
thence the remedy procuring,
whence the fatal wound had come. 

So when now at length the fullness
of the sacred time drew nigh,
then the Son, the world’s Creator,
left his Father’s throne on high;
from a virgin’s womb appearing,
clothed in our mortality. 

All within a lowly manger,
Lo, a tender babe He lies!
See His gentle Virgin Mother
lull to sleep His infant cries!
While the limbs of God incarnate
round with swathing bands she ties. 

Thus, with thirty years accomplished,
went He forth from Nazareth.
Destined, dedicated, willing,
wrought His work and met His death.
Like a lamb He humbly yielded
on the cross His dying breath. 

He endured the nails, the spitting,
vinegar, and spear, and reed.
From that holy Body broken
blood and water forth proceed.
Earth, and stars, and sky, and ocean,
by that flood from stain are freed. 

Faithful Cross above all other,
one and only noble Tree!
None in foliage, none in blossom,
none in fruit they peers may be.
Sweetest wood and sweetest iron!
Sweetest Weight is hung on thee! 

Lofty tree, bend down thy branches,
to embrace thy sacred Load.
Oh, relax the native tension
of that all too rigid wood.
Gently, gently bear the members
of thy dying King and God. 

Tree, which solely was found worthy
the world’s Victim to sustain.
Harbor from the raging tempest!
Ark, that saved the world again!
Tree, with sacred blood anointed
of the Lamb for sinners slain. 

To the everlasting Father,
and the Son who reigns on high,
with the Holy Ghost proceeding
forth from each eternally,
be salvation, honor, blessing,
might, and endless majesty.


[Photo:  I took this pic of the crucifix above the altar in the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament (Sacramento, CA) at my friends’ ordinations]

allforhisgreaterglory:

Behold, the Lamb of God. Behold Him who takes away the sins of the world.

allforhisgreaterglory:

Behold, the Lamb of God. Behold Him who takes away the sins of the world.

(via mybeltruns)

"If the world hates you, remember that it hated me first." (John 15:18)

Like a lamb led to slaughter

[Photos:  not mine]

bethestraw:

7LW: Seminarian Colin Wen - “I Thirst.”

“That is our task… to drink from the fountain of salvation, and then to become fountains in the world as well.” - Colin Wen

Listen to Seminarian Colin Wen as he reflects on Jesus’ words on the cross: “I thirst.”
Colin explores the thirst in his own life, as well as what these words meant to Mother Teresa and her Missionaries of Charity.

For more on Colin and his seminarian journey, check out http://considerpriesthood.com

This has been a Be The Straw 7 Last Words reflection