Praise the Lord!

One of the most joyful, and I believe, one of the most poetic of the psalms is Psalm 148. If you read this out loud, you find a rhythm and you can almost hear David singing it and dancing to it. It’s near impossible to keep gladness from creeping into your heart. Perhaps if we read this each morning it might be easier to keep the day in perspective – the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. God’s got all of this.

Psalm 148

Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise him in the heights! Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his host!

Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining stars! Praise him, you highest heavens and you waters above the heavens!

Let them praise the name of the Lord! For he commanded and they were created. And he established them for ever and ever; he fixed their bounds which cannot be passed.

Praise the Lord from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps, fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command!

Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! Beasts and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!

Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth! Young men and maidens together, old men and children!

Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven. He has raised up a horn for his people, praise for all his saints, for the people of Israel who are near to him. Praise the Lord!

Happy Birthday Mozart

Today we wish Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart a happy birthday. (27 January 1756 – 5 December 1791)

Much has been written about his genius: how he began composing at age 5 or 6, wrote down the overture to his opera Don Giovanni the day of the premiere, and wrote over 600 compositions before his death at age 35.

He and his father Leopold (also a composer) traveled extensively in his early years performing and composing, trying to find a post for the young Mozart that would give him a steady income. Even positions at court didn’t pay that much and the court composer was treated like one of the servants.

Later, in better times (1786) Mozart composed The Marriage of Figaro. You may have heard this overture on commercials or cartoons.

For all of this, the thing that really impresses me is this. Sometime around 1770 Mozart and his father were touring and came to Rome. At the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel Mozart heard two performances of Allegri’s Miserere Mei, Deus. He then went home and copied it out from memory, leading to the only (unauthorized) copy of the piece. Two performances. Amazing.

You Are Not Alone

For those who don’t believe in God or who don’t believe that He is intimately involved with every individual, life must be a lonely proposition. We all feel lonesome and blue sometimes, but a devoted Christian, deep in his heart, no matter how he feels, knows that God is always with him. All we need to do is turn our minds and hearts toward Him, and there He is right in front of us. No matter what is going on in our lives or in the world, this is a ray of hope that can never fail us.

David knew the presence of God in every situation, whether being pursued by Saul or singing and dancing for joy in praise of God. He was rewarded with victory in battle, but chastised when he stole Uriah’s wife Bathsheba. We can hide nothing from God, so why should we try? 

From beginning to end, (Thy eyes beheld my unformed substance; in thy book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me) God is with us each second of our lives. Let us turn our souls to Him and praise His Holy Name.

Psalm 139

O Lord, thou hast searched me and known me! Thou knowest when I sit down and when I rise up; thou discernest my thoughts from afar. Thou searchest out my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou dost beset me behind and before, and layest thy hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it.

Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, thou art there! If I make my bed in Sheol, thou art there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there thy hand shall lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Let only darkness cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to thee, the night is bright as the day; for darkness is as light with thee.

For thou didst form my inward parts, thou didst knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise thee, for thou art fearful and wonderful. Wonderful are thy works! Thou knowest me right well; my frame was not hidden from thee, when I was being made in secret, intricately wrought in the depths of the earth. Thy eyes beheld my unformed substance; in thy book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. How precious to me are thy thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. When I awake, I am still with thee.

O that thou wouldst slay the wicked, O God, and that men of blood would depart from me, men who maliciously defy thee, who lift themselves up against thee for evil! Do I not hate them that hate thee, O Lord? And do I not loathe them that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! 

Francis Thompson

If you try hard enough, you can always find someone worse off than you are. How about the poet Francis Thompson (1859 – 1907). Sent at age 11 to Ushaw College, a Catholic seminary, he stayed seven years then went to Owens College to become a doctor like his father. Not really wanting a career as a doctor, he went to London to become a writer, but ended up living on the streets selling newspapers and matches. Due to poor health most of his life, he became addicted to opium.

Finally, in 1888 he sent a few poems to the publishers of Merrie England (William and Alice Meynell) who recognized his talent and helped him by encouraging hospitalization. By 1893 they published his first volume of poetry Poems. Even so, he still suffered from bad health and finally contracted tuberculosis. He died in 1907 at the age of 47.

His most famous poem was The Hound of Heaven, a description of a man chased by God and his futile attempt to avoid Him. Most of his poems were religious in nature, but another noted poem called At Lord’s, is about cricket, a game he was quite attached to, although he never played it.

Here is a poem that was written for Passion-Tide and tells of the hope the Cross can bring.

L'ENVOY

O thou who dwellest in the day!

Behold, I pace amidst the gloom:

Darkness is ever round my way

With little space for sunbeam-room.

Yet Christian sadness is divine

Even as thy patient sadness was:

The salt tears in our life's dark wine

Fell in it from the saving cross.

Bitter the bread of our repast;

Yet doth a sweet the bitter leaven:

Our sorrow is the shadow cast

Around it by the light of Heaven.

O light in Light, shine down from Heaven!

Renoir at the Clark

Back in the 1980s I used to vacation in the Berkshires in western Massachusetts each summer, mainly to see the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood, but also to take in the museums and historic sites. My number one stop every year was the Clark Institute in Williamstown. Sterling and Francine Clark had an enormous art collection so they built the museum in 1955 to house it. They had quite a number of impressionist paintings and this is where I spent the majority of my time. 

I am especially fond of Renoir (Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1841 – 1919). I love the brilliant colors he used, not only in his landscapes, but in people’s clothing and in his portrait backgrounds. The beauty of children’s faces especially was fetching. Although it’s hard to see it in pictures of the paintings, his detail of their faces, down to the eyelashes was amazing. 

One of my favorite paintings is “Sleeping Girl with Cat.” It seems to be a hot summer day and the girl is tired from the heat and her labors. And isn’t it just like a cat to take advantage of an open lap to settle into for a quick nap?

A poet of my acquaintance wrote this little word portrait of the pair.

Renoir: Sleeping Girl (with cat)

O hazy summer afternoon,

O lazy, yawning day in June

In squinting sun the pair does doze

The heads do nod, the eyes do close

A whisker flicks, a finger twitches

Such sweet and welcome slumber this is

Too warm to run, too warm to play

And kitty on her lap will lay

Together will they sit and sigh

Until the evening breeze floats by

The silky cat, the sleepy girl

What finer day in all the world.

The Wedding Feast at Cana

In the calendar for the traditional Latin Mass yesterday was the 2nd Sunday after Epiphany and the Gospel reading was John 2: 1-11, the Wedding Feast at Cana. This passage is significant for many reasons and depicts the first miracle that Jesus performed in his public life: he turned the water into wine. 

The Jewish rite of purification was important to any devout Jew and it included a ceremonial washing of the hands. When the wine for the feast ran out Jesus bid the servants fill the wine pitchers with the water from the stone jars used for the purification rites. His mother had said to them “Do whatever he tells you.” They complied, but must have been confused. Why would Jesus want to pass off water as wine? Were the guests so drunk that they wouldn’t notice?

But then the steward told the bridegroom, “Every man serves the good wine first; and when men have drunk freely, then the poor wine; but you have kept the good wine until now.” Good wine? From the pitchers of water? How could this be? Perhaps one or two of the servants even sampled this “good wine” for themselves and found indeed that this was the smoothest, sweetest wine they had ever tasted. As they pondered this, they might have begun whispering among themselves that the man Jesus must have had something to do with this. But how could someone turn water into wine? Who is this man?

In the subsequent years as Jesus’ fame spread and news of other miracles reached their ears, would the servants remember their witnessing of the first miracle and Mary’s counsel to “do whatever he tells you?” Do we follow her advice in our daily lives?

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844 – 1889) was born in Stratford, Essex and died in Dublin. He was a poet who was never published in his lifetime, he sketched and painted, translated Shakespeare into Latin, could write poetry in Welsh, graduated Oxford with a first class degree and, oh by the way, was a Jesuit priest. All this and he was a month shy of his 45th birthday when he died. 

When he decided to become a priest he burned all his youthful poetry, indicating his sincerity to his religious vocation. Later, he began writing again with a decided slant to religious themes. His friend, the poet Robert Bridges began to publish individual poems in anthologies after Hopkins’ death. In 1918 he decided the time had come to publish a volume of Hopkins’ collected poems. While the book was never a best seller, Hopkins was appreciated enough that he was an influence on 20th century poets such as T.S. Eliot, W.S. Auden, and Dylan Thomas.

The poem we’ll look at today is O Deus, ego amo te the title being a Latin translation of the first line.

O God, I love thee, I love thee-

Not out of hope of heaven for me

Nor fearing not to love and be

In the everlasting burning.

Thou, thou, my Jesus, after me

Didst reach thine arms out dying,

For my sake sufferedst nails and lance,

Mocked and marred countenance,

Sorrows passing number,

Sweat and care and cumber,

Yea and death, and this for me,

And thou couldst see me sinning:

Then I, why should not I love thee,

Jesu so much in love with me?

Not for heaven’s sake; not to be

Out of hell by loving thee;

Not for any gains I see;

But just the way that thou didst me

I do love and I will love thee:

What must I love thee, Lord, for then?-

For being my king and God. Amen.

Whence Comes Our Hope

So many of us seem to be at sixes and sevens these days and dwell in the din of the marketplace. We long for calm, we long for peace, especially peace of soul. How can we shut out the noise long enough to even think straight?

We need time for prayer and meditation. We need time to contemplate what it is we really need and want. We need time to find out what the Lord wants from us.

Here in this beautiful Psalm 84 we see what the Lord promises us, in the next life if not now. For those who walk with Him, who trust in Him, we are promised living in His lovely dwelling place where even a day as a doorkeeper is better than a lifetime of being in the tents of wickedness. 

Turn everything off for fifteen minutes, take a deep breath and relax with this comforting word.

Psalm 84

How lovely is thy dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!

My soul longs, yea, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.

Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at thy altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in they house, ever singing thy praise!

Blessed are the men whose strength is in thee, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.

As they go through the valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.

They go from strength to strength; the God of gods will be seen in Zion.

O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob!

Behold our shield, O God; look upon the face of thine anointed!

For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. 

I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.

For the Lord God is a sun and shield; he bestows favor and honor.

No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.

O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man who trusts in thee!

Recapturing Culture with Dale Ahlquist and Joseph Pearce

Today I want to introduce you to two men who are working tirelessly to promote Western, especially Catholic, culture through books, television, magazines, and online. I have met them both and they are genial, witty, and humble. They have great intellect but know that their abilities come from God and that their work is designed to give Him the glory. Both are converts to Catholicism and I think this gives them a fire that we who are born into the faith sometimes lack.

I was familiar with Dale Ahlquist because of the American Chesterton Society, a group dedicated to introducing people to the thought and writings of Gilbert Keith Chesterton. Then, in 1998 I met him when he appeared on my husband’s cable access show where he came to discuss Chesterton and the concept of distributism, a socio-economic theory that property and goods should be widely owned as opposed to having them concentrated in the hands of a powerful few, such as the State.

We also attended some of the annual conferences on Chesterton, first held for several years in St. Paul (where Mr. Ahlquist is from). He and volunteers, which included his family, put these conferences together, inviting speakers from around the world to talk about Chesterton and his philosophies and writing. Over the years the conferences have grown and are held in other locales. He started the American Chesterton Society in 1996, appeared on programs on EWTN, and publishes and edits Gilbert: The Magazine of the American Chesterton Society. If that weren’t enough, he also co-founded the Chesterton Academy, a Catholic high school in Minneapolis. Additionally, he has written over a dozen books. 

 It was at one of the Chesterton conferences that I met Joseph Pearce. There was an empty seat beside me in a packed auditorium and he came to sit for a few minutes. After a brief chat he said he had to be going. The next thing I knew, he was being introduced as the next speaker. Over the years I have met him at talks and book signings. He’s always generous with his time in signing a book and grateful as a “fan” praises his work.

His autobiography, Race With the Devil tells of his “road to Damascus” journey of conversion. He has written books about J.R.R. Tolkien, Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Oscar Wilde, as well as the Hobbit, the Catholic Reformation, and Shakespeare. He edits the St. Austin Review (StAR), a “journal of Catholic culture, literature, and ideas.” In 2014 he became the Director of the Center for Faith and Culture at Aquinas College in Nashville, TN. When it’s deemed safe again, I’m sure he’ll be back on the lecture circuit as a sought-after speaker. And these are only some of his accomplishments.

For more information about Mr. Ahlquist and Mr. Pearce and their work, check the links at the right for The Society of Gilbert Keith Chesterton and the St. Austin Review.

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Christina Rossetti was born December 5, 1830 in London. (Her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti was a painter and poet, also.)

During her life she published hundreds of poems, mainly with religious themes, although she also wrote books of poems for children. I own and have read the Penguin edition of The Complete Poems, so that tells you that she is one of my favorite poets, perhaps my favorite.

You may actually be familiar with one of her poems written in 1872 that she titled “A Christmas Carol.” It is better known by the first line “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Composer Gustav Holst (The Planets) set the poem to music in 1906. I think he is spot on in his setting, peaceful and slightly melancholy. So take four and a half minutes to calm your soul and listen to this performance by Quire Cleveland, an early music ensemble.

 

A Christmas Carol

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty

Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for Him whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

Angels and archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Throng’d the air,

But only His mother

In her maiden bliss

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb,

If I were a wise man

I would do my part, -

Yet what I can I give Him,

Give my heart.

The Feast of the Epiphany

Although many churches celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany last Sunday, the actual feast day is today.

What does it mean to have an epiphany? Webster’s dictionary defines “epiphany” as “a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something.” In Christian belief it is the manifestation of Jesus, true God and true man. The 12-day period between Christmas and Epiphany (the twelve days of Christmas) is thought to be the time it took the three wise men to follow the star to Bethlehem to worship the Christ child. This may be a compaction of time; possibly the wise men didn’t catch up to him until much later. Hence, Herod killing the male children under 2 years of age. 

Whenever it was that they saw Him, they brought him gifts which not only represented the finest items they had to offer, but a renunciation of their belief in magic, alchemy, and other pagan practices. Of the three, myrrh would seem to be the oddest. Gold is precious as currency. Frankincense was used as a valuable perfume. But myrrh was used as an ointment in the burial process. What a strange thing to bring to a baby for his birthday. Once again we see why Jesus was born – to save us from our sins by His life, death, and resurrection. The Incarnation and the Passion are inexorably linked.

In 1857 an episcopal minister, John Henry Hopkins, Jr. wrote the song “Three Kings of Orient,” better known to us as “We Three Kings.” The three solo verses by the three wise men are seldom sung, so here is the entire lyric.

We three kings of Orient are,

Bearing gifts we traverse afar,

Field and fountain, moor and mountain,

Following yonder star.

O, star of wonder, star of night

Star with royal beauty bright 

Westward leading, still proceeding

Guide us to thy perfect light.

Born a king on Bethlehem plain,

Gold I bring to crown Him again,

King forever, Ceasing never

Over us all to reign.

Frankincense to offer have I,

Incense owns a Deity nigh:

Prayer and praising All men raising,

Worship Him God on high.

Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume

Breathes a life of gathering gloom; - 

Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,

Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.

Glorious now behold Him arise,

King and God, and Sacrifice;

Heav’n sings Hallelujah:

Hallelujah the earth replies.

New Year's Resolutions, Anyone?

So here we are at the start of another year. Did you make your New Year’s resolutions? Let’s see, there’s resolving to eat better, exercising more, losing that last nasty ten pounds, and perhaps thinking happier thoughts. How about resolutions for your soul? While being a good steward of your body is a desirable thing, leaning toward narcissism while neglecting your immortal soul is not. No matter what you do, your body will someday die. Where will you be headed after that?

Psalm 62 gives us some good advice: “Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” It tells us that no matter what happens in this world, God will always be there for us; we need only turn to Him, focus on Him.

We should work on our relationship with God at least as much as we do on our physical well-being.

Psalm 62

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly moved.

How long will you set upon a man to shatter him, all of you, like a leaning wall, a tottering fence? They only plan to thrust him down from his eminence. They take pleasure in falsehood. They bless with mouths, but inwardly they curse.

For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my deliverance and my honor; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.

Men of low estate are but a breath, men of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath. Put no confidence in extortion, set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, set not your heart on them.

Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this: that power belongs to God; and that to thee, O Lord, belongs steadfast love. For thou dost requite a man according to his work.

Happy New Year!

 Happy New Year to one and all. Pray God that this will be a better year than last.