Today is the day we remember St. Elizabeth, whose story we read in the first chapter of Luke's Gospel. (RSV vailable online here or KJV here.) It's a good day to reread, if not the whole chapter, at least the beautiful story of the Visitation, which for Catholics is the second of the Joyful Mysteries to be meditated on in the rosary.
Here it is:
In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a city of Judah, and she entered the house of Zechari'ah and greeted Elizabeth. And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and she exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the babe in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord."
And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden. For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. And his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm, he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, he has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his posterity for ever."
(Luke, 1:39-55)
Showing posts with label saints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label saints. Show all posts
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
All Hallows--We Are Not Alone
All Hallow's, the day that All Hallow's Eve is the eve of, is a day set aside to honor all saints (hence the modern name of All Saints Day), but perhaps more important, it is a day that reminds us we are not alone. Catholic teaching says that people alive on Earth, trying as best we can to live holy lives, are not alone in our efforts to come closer to God, but are surrounded by "clouds of witnesses"--people alive in heaven who wish us to succeed. They are all the people who have gone before us and made it to where we want to be. They are "a great multitude,which no one could count,from every nation, race, people, and tongue". The Church teaches that they will pray for us to God, if we ask them; of course you never need ask them if you don't want, but can it really hurt to have someone else also praying for you? Some of us--that would include me--need all the help we can get. When we are struggling and think we are struggling alone, we can not only ask God for help, but also ask a saint to ask for help for us too; I guess it's sort of like being in a big family and getting your brothers and sisters to join you in your requests to your father, although in this case the siblings are on Dad's side and probably aren't going to help you get ice cream for breakfast [lol].
Monday, October 09, 2006
Also This Past Week--Two Feasts
St. Francis' Day
Wednesday (October 4) was St. Francis' Day. St. Francis is the one post-Biblical saint that everybody knows and likes, whether they're Catholic or not. Everybody has at least a vague idea of who the brown-robed figure preaching to the birds is. Something a lot of people don't know, however, is that Francis once set out--probably foolishly; certainly in the sense of "being a fool for Christ"--to convert Muslims. Unsurprisingly to a cynical person such as myself, he didn't have much success with that. Still, I've wondered for several years now why we don't ask him to pray for the conversion of Muslims today; I know some contemporary American Catholics now consider it taboo to suggest that Christianity is something non-Christians might want to convert to, but personally I'd think Francis might like having a crack at it from Heaven. I mean, I don't want to interfere with the custom of taking animals to church to be blessed on St. Francis' Day, but if all the non-pet-owner Catholics, Anglicans, and others who recognize St. Francis were to pray for conversions to Christ on that day, it could only work to the good, right?
(Re praying to saints, for any non-Catholics reading this: Catholics believe that it is beneficial for people to pray for one another. We also believe that the pool of people we can ask to pray for us is not limited to those currently alive on Earth, but that people who are alive in heaven can also pray for us. When we pray to a saint we are asking that person to pray to God for us. A saint is anyone in heaven, not just famous ones like Francis whom the Church officially recognizes as such. You can ask anyone you believe to be in heaven to pray for you; for example, the priest who baptized me said he frequently asks one of his aunts, who was a very holy woman, to pray for him.)
Remember Lepanto!
The day before yesterday (October 7) was the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary. Why it is the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary may be unexpected to some--it commemorates a coalition of Christian forces, gathered at the Pope's request, turning back the further incursion of Turkish forces into Italy. The Pope attributed the victory to the rosaries prayed for the Christian forces--although I'm sure the soldiers and their weaponry had something to do with it; "trust God, but keep your powder dry", as the saying goes--and instituted this annual feast to celebrate. This was the 1571 Battle of Lepanto, and you can read more about it here and here.
Why I think we should remember Lepanto is that it shows that people in those parts of the world formerly known as Christendom--we'll just call it the West now--can band together to defeat an enemy who does not share our values and who would enslave us.
If you'd like a literary remembrance, you can read The Battle of Lepanto at G. K. Chesterton's Works on the Web here or at Bartelby here. (Although I must admit that, much as I like Chesterton, I have trouble reading this poem's lines about "Don John of Austria" without thinking of Don John from Much Ado About Nothing--another bastard--which rather spoils the effect.)
Of course, it's probably un-PC of me to suggest that we should remember Lepanto, that Western civilization might be worth fighting for, that Christianity might have anything worth converting for, etc. A nice, tolerant person would remind you that all cultures are equally worthwhile--except for ours, which is tyrannical and fascist; that all religions are equally wonderful--except for Christianity, which is always and in every way oppressive, and Judaism, which unforgiveably contributed to the creation of Israel; that only poor, ignorant people would join the military; and that only "prey-ers" would pray for victory or even for the safety of our troops. What can I say--I'm not a nice person.
Wednesday (October 4) was St. Francis' Day. St. Francis is the one post-Biblical saint that everybody knows and likes, whether they're Catholic or not. Everybody has at least a vague idea of who the brown-robed figure preaching to the birds is. Something a lot of people don't know, however, is that Francis once set out--probably foolishly; certainly in the sense of "being a fool for Christ"--to convert Muslims. Unsurprisingly to a cynical person such as myself, he didn't have much success with that. Still, I've wondered for several years now why we don't ask him to pray for the conversion of Muslims today; I know some contemporary American Catholics now consider it taboo to suggest that Christianity is something non-Christians might want to convert to, but personally I'd think Francis might like having a crack at it from Heaven. I mean, I don't want to interfere with the custom of taking animals to church to be blessed on St. Francis' Day, but if all the non-pet-owner Catholics, Anglicans, and others who recognize St. Francis were to pray for conversions to Christ on that day, it could only work to the good, right?
(Re praying to saints, for any non-Catholics reading this: Catholics believe that it is beneficial for people to pray for one another. We also believe that the pool of people we can ask to pray for us is not limited to those currently alive on Earth, but that people who are alive in heaven can also pray for us. When we pray to a saint we are asking that person to pray to God for us. A saint is anyone in heaven, not just famous ones like Francis whom the Church officially recognizes as such. You can ask anyone you believe to be in heaven to pray for you; for example, the priest who baptized me said he frequently asks one of his aunts, who was a very holy woman, to pray for him.)
Remember Lepanto!
The day before yesterday (October 7) was the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary. Why it is the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary may be unexpected to some--it commemorates a coalition of Christian forces, gathered at the Pope's request, turning back the further incursion of Turkish forces into Italy. The Pope attributed the victory to the rosaries prayed for the Christian forces--although I'm sure the soldiers and their weaponry had something to do with it; "trust God, but keep your powder dry", as the saying goes--and instituted this annual feast to celebrate. This was the 1571 Battle of Lepanto, and you can read more about it here and here.
Why I think we should remember Lepanto is that it shows that people in those parts of the world formerly known as Christendom--we'll just call it the West now--can band together to defeat an enemy who does not share our values and who would enslave us.
If you'd like a literary remembrance, you can read The Battle of Lepanto at G. K. Chesterton's Works on the Web here or at Bartelby here. (Although I must admit that, much as I like Chesterton, I have trouble reading this poem's lines about "Don John of Austria" without thinking of Don John from Much Ado About Nothing--another bastard--which rather spoils the effect.)
Of course, it's probably un-PC of me to suggest that we should remember Lepanto, that Western civilization might be worth fighting for, that Christianity might have anything worth converting for, etc. A nice, tolerant person would remind you that all cultures are equally worthwhile--except for ours, which is tyrannical and fascist; that all religions are equally wonderful--except for Christianity, which is always and in every way oppressive, and Judaism, which unforgiveably contributed to the creation of Israel; that only poor, ignorant people would join the military; and that only "prey-ers" would pray for victory or even for the safety of our troops. What can I say--I'm not a nice person.
Monday, August 14, 2006
A Feast Day and a Book Recommendation
Today is the feast day of St. Maximilian Kolbe, who was executed by the Nazis. Maximilian Kolbe was a Polish Franciscan who led an interesting life, including founding a monastery in Nagasaki, before he ran afoul of the National Socialists and ended up in Auschwitz. At Auschwitz, when ten prisoners were selected for death by dehydration and starvation in retaliation for an escape, Maximilian Kolbe voluntarily took the place of one of the selected, because that man was married with children. You can read more of his inspiring story here and here.
This is a good place for a book recommendation I've been meaning to make: When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, by Judith Kerr. I came across this three or four weeks ago while looking for another book in the juvenile Ks. I'd never heard of it before, but I was intrigued by the title and took it home. It turned out to be better than what I'd been looking for. (Escape to Witch Mountain, FWIW.) The book is written for children, but it never talks down to them and is such a well written account of refugee life that it will appeal to adults. Briefly, it is about a little German girl named Anna, whose father is a prominent writer who opposes the Nazis. On the eve of Hitler's being elected to power, they leave the country before their passports can be taken and Dad imprisoned; they think they will be able to go home again but are soon disabused of this idea. The story is about how the family must adapt to refugee life, first in Sweden (where at least they speak the same language) and then in Paris. In addition to language and cultural problems, the family must for the first time learn to get along with little money and no housekeeper. Their situation may be rooted in a particular historical time, but their efforts to make a life in a new and strange place could apply to people in many different situations and time periods. The details of the way they adapt will interest a variety of people; personally I found the process of language acquisition especially interesting. It all rang very true to life, possibly because the story was at least partly autobiographical. I also liked the illustrations; in fact, the only thing I think isn't particularly good about the book is the title, but I suppose that has the virtue of making people notice it.
For the "Knitting in Fiction" file, there's an amusing passage where the mother, who'd never been trained in any kind of housewifely arts, tries to knit a sweater to save money. She knits very tightly, stabbing the wool with the needles so that every stitch is an attack. (It sounds like the way Akane Tendo cooks.) The final result is a functional sweater, but one that looks as if it's made of tweed.
Anyway, the ISBN is 0698115899. It was originally published in the early 1970s and reissued in 1997 and seems to be in print, so I encourage people to buy it or look for it at the library. Caution to people buying the book for young children: Although the focus is refugee life, there are a couple of bits that could (and should) be upsetting. The suicide of a gentle, harmless family friend is touched on briefly, but it is given in such terms that many small children would not understand what had happened, only that the poor man had died. The most disturbing part of the book is when Anna overhears the story of a distinguished professor who was chained up and driven mad by the Nazis. It disturbed her and it should disturb everybody. May God have mercy on us all for allowing such things to happen.
(Now I think of it, maybe it's not coincidence that the Divine Mercy chaplet came into being in the 1930s.)
This is a good place for a book recommendation I've been meaning to make: When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, by Judith Kerr. I came across this three or four weeks ago while looking for another book in the juvenile Ks. I'd never heard of it before, but I was intrigued by the title and took it home. It turned out to be better than what I'd been looking for. (Escape to Witch Mountain, FWIW.) The book is written for children, but it never talks down to them and is such a well written account of refugee life that it will appeal to adults. Briefly, it is about a little German girl named Anna, whose father is a prominent writer who opposes the Nazis. On the eve of Hitler's being elected to power, they leave the country before their passports can be taken and Dad imprisoned; they think they will be able to go home again but are soon disabused of this idea. The story is about how the family must adapt to refugee life, first in Sweden (where at least they speak the same language) and then in Paris. In addition to language and cultural problems, the family must for the first time learn to get along with little money and no housekeeper. Their situation may be rooted in a particular historical time, but their efforts to make a life in a new and strange place could apply to people in many different situations and time periods. The details of the way they adapt will interest a variety of people; personally I found the process of language acquisition especially interesting. It all rang very true to life, possibly because the story was at least partly autobiographical. I also liked the illustrations; in fact, the only thing I think isn't particularly good about the book is the title, but I suppose that has the virtue of making people notice it.
For the "Knitting in Fiction" file, there's an amusing passage where the mother, who'd never been trained in any kind of housewifely arts, tries to knit a sweater to save money. She knits very tightly, stabbing the wool with the needles so that every stitch is an attack. (It sounds like the way Akane Tendo cooks.) The final result is a functional sweater, but one that looks as if it's made of tweed.
Anyway, the ISBN is 0698115899. It was originally published in the early 1970s and reissued in 1997 and seems to be in print, so I encourage people to buy it or look for it at the library. Caution to people buying the book for young children: Although the focus is refugee life, there are a couple of bits that could (and should) be upsetting. The suicide of a gentle, harmless family friend is touched on briefly, but it is given in such terms that many small children would not understand what had happened, only that the poor man had died. The most disturbing part of the book is when Anna overhears the story of a distinguished professor who was chained up and driven mad by the Nazis. It disturbed her and it should disturb everybody. May God have mercy on us all for allowing such things to happen.
(Now I think of it, maybe it's not coincidence that the Divine Mercy chaplet came into being in the 1930s.)
Thursday, December 29, 2005
More Bloody Christmas
Oh, and before I forget, today is the memorial of Thomas a Beckett, another martyr.
I'll admit most of what I know about him come from watching the movie Becket, about which Orson Scott Card had a good comment, to the effect that Becket is a really good movie, except for being cast backward--you're supposed to cheer for Becket, but Peter O'Toole is so charming nobody can not root for him.
On a related note, one of my New Year's resolutions is to read a minimum of one history book a month (biographies of writers not counted, unless they're unsually chock full of general history), because I shouldn't be piecing so much of the history I know together from scraps I picked up in movies or novels.
I'll admit most of what I know about him come from watching the movie Becket, about which Orson Scott Card had a good comment, to the effect that Becket is a really good movie, except for being cast backward--you're supposed to cheer for Becket, but Peter O'Toole is so charming nobody can not root for him.
On a related note, one of my New Year's resolutions is to read a minimum of one history book a month (biographies of writers not counted, unless they're unsually chock full of general history), because I shouldn't be piecing so much of the history I know together from scraps I picked up in movies or novels.
Monday, December 26, 2005
St. Stephen's Day & A Christmas Update
Today is St. Stephen's Day, commemorating the first Christian martyr. You can read his story in Acts chapters 6 and 7. Here's how it ends:
Obviously, "fell asleep" here doesn't mean he had a light, refreshing nap. It's something to keep in mind any time you come across the "health and wealth gospel" (if you just have enough faith you'll have plenty of money, you'll never get sick, and nothing really bad will happen to you) people. Christians are called to take up the cross, and sometimes they get nailed to it--usually figuratively speaking, but not always, as for example with St. Peter.
As for Christmas, Auntie Suzanne and Uncle Pookie had a pretty nice one--hardly any martyrdom involved at all :-). We attended mass at the church we used to go to (where Uncle Pookie got his new, handmade-by-me rosary blessed by the Irish priest; especially appropriate as this rosary has a St. Patrick center, emerald green beads, and a Celtic cross-style crucifix and is stored in a bag made of shamrock print fabric) and spent the rest of the day with relatives--both in-laws and out-laws as the saying goes. There was more relative-visiting for me today. And far too much food for both of us.
I was pleased that my gifts were well-received. The corn bags went over well. Seinfeld-in-a-box (everything crafted except the Jujyfruits and Junior Mints, and I added writing to those boxes) got laughs. The marble magnets were new to the recipients, and one of the decorative Altoids tin containers went over a treat. My father liked his artists' deer reference book and salvage-store purchased canvases. So I did good.
They threw him out of the city, and began to stone
him....As they were stoning Stephen, he called out, "Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit." Then he fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, "Lord, do not
hold this sin against them"; and when he said this, he fell asleep.
Obviously, "fell asleep" here doesn't mean he had a light, refreshing nap. It's something to keep in mind any time you come across the "health and wealth gospel" (if you just have enough faith you'll have plenty of money, you'll never get sick, and nothing really bad will happen to you) people. Christians are called to take up the cross, and sometimes they get nailed to it--usually figuratively speaking, but not always, as for example with St. Peter.
As for Christmas, Auntie Suzanne and Uncle Pookie had a pretty nice one--hardly any martyrdom involved at all :-). We attended mass at the church we used to go to (where Uncle Pookie got his new, handmade-by-me rosary blessed by the Irish priest; especially appropriate as this rosary has a St. Patrick center, emerald green beads, and a Celtic cross-style crucifix and is stored in a bag made of shamrock print fabric) and spent the rest of the day with relatives--both in-laws and out-laws as the saying goes. There was more relative-visiting for me today. And far too much food for both of us.
I was pleased that my gifts were well-received. The corn bags went over well. Seinfeld-in-a-box (everything crafted except the Jujyfruits and Junior Mints, and I added writing to those boxes) got laughs. The marble magnets were new to the recipients, and one of the decorative Altoids tin containers went over a treat. My father liked his artists' deer reference book and salvage-store purchased canvases. So I did good.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Saint Martin de Porres, Pray for Us
Today is the feast of St. Martin de Porres, patron of barbers and (according to some accounts I've read, but not others) of people of mixed race; I would think animal lovers, nurses, and anyone facing unjust discrimination might turn to him.
Of course today honors quite a few others as well, but I like St. Martin de Porres best. It's hard not to like a saint who's often depicted with a dog.
Of course today honors quite a few others as well, but I like St. Martin de Porres best. It's hard not to like a saint who's often depicted with a dog.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
St. Crispin and St. Elizabeth, Pray for Us
Today is St. Crispin's Day. You can hear Kenneth Branagh's rendition of Shakespeare's Crispin's Day speech online here. (Link via The Corner.) I highly recommend the movie this is taken from. For that matter I also recommend Oliviers WWII-era version. I just like Henry V; it always makes me proud to be English, which is odd, as I'm not English. We can all cry "God for Harry, England, and St. George!" though, can't we? AT least we can when the English aren't killing Catholics for being Catholic or letting Islamofascism breed unchecked in their cities, that is; and on that last maybe we should be asking St. George to protect them.
EWTN's Almanac is listing today as the day honoring St. Elizabeth, the kinswoman of Our Lady and mother of John the Baptist. I thought her feast day was November 5, and Catholic Online backs my memory up. But what the heck, we can ask her to pray for us both days. She may be a lesser Biblical figure and we may know next to nothing about her, but I'm rather fond of her all the same. I've heard her called a patron saint of those who become mothers later in life, and I haven't given up hope of being one of those myself. I also like that Elizabeth recognized holiness when she saw it, and the Visitation, with its lovely image of two pregnant women embracing, is one of my favorite mysteries of the rosary. Uncle Pookie has suggested that I also like Elizabeth's story because her husband was struck dumb; to that I have to say: "No comment."
EWTN's Almanac is listing today as the day honoring St. Elizabeth, the kinswoman of Our Lady and mother of John the Baptist. I thought her feast day was November 5, and Catholic Online backs my memory up. But what the heck, we can ask her to pray for us both days. She may be a lesser Biblical figure and we may know next to nothing about her, but I'm rather fond of her all the same. I've heard her called a patron saint of those who become mothers later in life, and I haven't given up hope of being one of those myself. I also like that Elizabeth recognized holiness when she saw it, and the Visitation, with its lovely image of two pregnant women embracing, is one of my favorite mysteries of the rosary. Uncle Pookie has suggested that I also like Elizabeth's story because her husband was struck dumb; to that I have to say: "No comment."
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Our Lady of Sorrows, Pray for Us
Today commemorates Our Lady of Sorrows, patron of Mississippi. Women for Faith & Family have a couple of nice pictures and the words (Latin & English) to the Stabat Mater Dolorosa.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Our Lady of Prompt Succor, Pray for Us
Thanks to our move last year, I live pretty close to the Gulf Coast. We seem pretty safe here--from this one, anyway--but whenever a hurricane might hit anywhere near New Orleans, I think of Our Lady of Prompt Succor. Protection from hurricanes may not be what she is famous for, but I suspect she's been prayed to many times when hurricanes were imminent. Possibly even by some of the same people who have hurricane parties in boarded-up bars in the French Quarter while waiting for the hurricane. :-)
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