Sunday Meditation: It's Good Shepherd Sunday

"I know my sheep and my sheep know me." Are you one of His sheep? Or do you belong to the world?

The Christ Child as the Good Shepherd by Murillo

19th c. Russian icon of the Good Shepherd

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Sunday Meditation: Do You Take Yourself Too Seriously?

This question immediately set me to thinking about politics and politicians. Have you ever noticed how obsessively serious they are about themselves? Maybe it's because they have so much to hide and are working so hard to convince prospective voters they are the sincerest pumpkin in the pumpkin patch. But one of my favorite thinkers, G.K. Chesterton had both political parties pegged and obviously didn't take either of them as seriously as they take themselves. Here's his comment on politicians:

The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of Conservatives is to prevent mistakes from being corrected.

So whether you are progressive or a conservative, consider Chesterton's thought and  realize you are likely to be wrong in either case. I think the ability to laugh at yourself is one of the marks of humility.

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Sunday Meditation: Poems for Holy Week

I was putting away some books I bought at the library used book sale. ($3.00 a bag!) and found the poetry of Robert Frost. After reading a few of my favorite poems, I got to thinking about Lenten and Holy Week poems. After a little research here are a few to ponder and perhaps delight in. One by a Protestant, one by a martyr-saint, and one by a notorious sinner who repented and entered the Church on his deathbed like the good thief. Isn't God wonderful?

TO KEEP A TRUE LENT.
By Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
IS this a fast, to keep
        The larder lean ?
                    And clean
From fat of veals and sheep ?

Is it to quit the dish
          Of flesh, yet still
                    To fill
The platter high with fish ?

Is it to fast an hour,
            Or ragg’d to go,
                      Or show
A downcast look and sour ?

No ; ‘tis a fast to dole
             Thy sheaf of wheat,
                      And meat,
Unto the hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife,
              From old debate
                        And hate ;
To circumcise thy life.

To show a heart grief-rent ;
               To starve thy sin,
                         Not bin ;
And that’s to keep thy Lent.

THE VIRGIN MARY TO CHRIST ON THE CROSS.
By St. Robert Southwell, S.J. (1561-1595, martyred at Tyburn at age 33 under Elizabeth I)

What mist hath dimm'd that glorious face?
What seas of grief my sun doth toss?
The golden rays of heavenly grace
Lies now eclipsèd on the cross.

Jesus, my love, my Son, my God,
Behold Thy mother wash'd in tears:
Thy bloody wounds be made a rod
To chasten these my later years.

You cruel Jews, come work your ire
Upon this worthless flesh of mine,
And kindle not eternal fire
By wounding Him who is divine.

Thou messenger that didst impart
His first descent into my womb,
Come help me now to cleave my heart,
That there I may my Son entomb.

You angels, all that present were
To show His birth with harmony,
Why are you not now ready here,
To make a mourning symphony?

The cause I know you wail alone,
And shed your tears in secrecy,
Lest I should movèd be to moan,
By force of heavy company.

But wail, my soul, thy comfort dies,
My woful womb, lament thy fruit;
My heart give tears unto mine eyes,
Let sorrow string my heavy lute.



E Tenebris

By Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

COME down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand,
For I am drowning in a stormier sea
Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee:
The wine of life is spilt upon the sand,
My heart is as some famine-murdered land,
Whence all good things have perished utterly,
And well I know my soul in Hell must lie
If I this night before God's throne should stand.
'He sleeps perchance, or rideth to the chase,
Like Baal, when his prophets howled that name
From morn to noon on Carmel's smitten height.'
Nay, peace, I shall behold before the night,
The feet of brass, the robe more white than flame,
The wounded hands, the weary human face.

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Sunday Thought: Rejoice in the Lord Always

While reading Morning Prayer today I came across the reminder to "rejoice in the Lord always." It made me think of the song of the same title sung as a round. Have you ever heard it? I was hoping to find it sung on YouTube, but instead found this guitar rendition which is sweet. So listen and rejoice in the Lord. I think I will teach this as a round to my grandchildren.

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