Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Duties of State of Life


Although it has been changed since then, when I was in the Girl Scouts, the pledge we recited solemnly was, "On my honor, I will try, to do my duty to God and my country, to help other people at all times, and to obey the Girl Scout law."

When one of my parents wanted me to do some particularly unpleasant chore, the directive would sometimes be prefaced with, "How would you like to do something for your country?" I was not convinced that weeding the garden was a patriotic act, but the phrase did seem to invest the chore with a level of importance.

I saw my beloved maternal grandmother do her housewifely chores with a degree of dignity and discipline that is rarely seen these days and perhaps was uncommon even then. She was a Lutheran, not a Catholic, but she understood well the teaching that God's will for us is to give first priority to the duties of our state of life. How I wish I could perform my duties as well as she performed hers.

Although I have never been able to locate a source that relates when and where he said it, I have heard many times that one of St. Pio's maxims was that one's duty of state must come before all, even holy things. I think I understand what he meant by that.

For a married woman her duties are clear: husband, home, and family come first. Blogging must be somewhere way down the list. Recently, a young mother put up a good post about this principle.

The single state has duties too. Their specifics are something that has to be sorted out with the help of a good spiritual director. Generally speaking, however, the single life is supposed to be a life of service. And, some of us have been blessed with a profession that allows us to be compensated monetarily for serving others. For us too, these duties and others must necessarily come before blogging.

While I have not exactly neglected my professional duties since I started blogging early this year, I regret that I have not given them and certain other responsibilities the wholeheartedness I should have. For that reason, for the foreseeable future, I will be visiting sites on the internet much less and posting with much less frequency at this site. I do have many, many ideas for posts, however, and so I will continue to post occasionally as it seems proper.


Image:
Old-fashioned housewife from an antique Danish greeting card.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

St. Anselm's Prayer to St. Mary Magdalene


St. Anselm's Prayer to St. Mary Magdalene

St. Mary Magdalene, thou didst come with springing tears to the spring of mercy, Christ; from Him thy burning thirst was abundantly refreshed, through Him thy sins were forgiven; by Him thy bitter sorrow was consoled.

My dearest lady, well thou knowest by thine own life how a sinful soul can be reconciled with its creator, what counsel a soul in misery needs, what medicine will restore the sick to health.

It is enough for us to understand, dear friend of God, to whom were many sins forgiven, because she loved much.

Most blessed lady, I who am the most evil and sinful of men do not recall thy sins as a reproach, but call upon the boundless mercy by which they were blotted out.

This is my reassurance, so that I do not despair; this is my longing, so that I shall not perish.

I say this of myself, miserably cast down into the depths of vice, bowed down with the weight of crimes, thrust down by my own hand into a dark prison of sins, wrapped round with the shadows of darkness.

Therefore, since thou art now with the chosen because thou art beloved and are beloved because thou art chosen of God, I, in my misery, pray to thee in bliss; in my darkness, I ask for light; in my sins, redemption; impure, I ask for purity.

Recall in loving kindness what thou used to be, how much thou didst need mercy, and seek for me that same forgiving love that thou didst receive when thou wert wanting it. Ask urgently that I may have the love that pierces the heart; tears that are humble; desire for the homeland of Heaven; impatience with this earthly exile; searing repentance; and a dread of torments in eternity.

Turn to my good that ready access that thou once didst have and still doth have to the spring of mercy.

Draw me to Him where I may wash away my sins; bring me to Him Who can slake my thirst; pour over me those waters that will make my dry places fresh. Thou wilt not find it hard to gain all thou doth desire from so loving and so kind a Lord, Who is alive and reigns and is thy friend.

For who can tell, beloved and blest of God, with what kind familiarity and familiar kindness He Himself didst reply on thy behalf to the calumnies of those who were against thee? How He didst defend thee, when the proud Pharisee was indignant, how He didst excuse thee, when thy sister didst complain, how highly He didst praise thy deed, when Judas didst begrudge it.

And, more than all this, what can I say, how can I find words to tell, about the burning love with which thou didst seek Him, weeping at the sepulchre, and wept for Him in thy seeking?

How He cameth, who can say how or with what kindness, to comfort thee, and madest thee burn with love still more; how He didst hide from thee when thou didst want to see Him, and showed Himself when thou didst not think to see Him; how He was there all the time thou didst seek Him, and how He didst seek thee when, seeking Him, thou didst weep.

But Thou, most holy Lord, why didst Thou ask her why she weeps? Surely Thou canst see her heart, the dear life of her soul, is cruelly slain.

O love to be wondered at;

O evil to be shuddered at;

Thou didst hang on the wood, pierced by iron nails, stretched out like a thief for the mockery of wicked men; and yet, 'Woman,' Thou didst say, 'why art thou weeping?' She had not been able to prevent them from killing Thee, but at least she longed to keep Thy Body for a while with ointments lest it decay.

No longer able to speak with Thee living, at least she could mourn for Thee dead. So, near to death and hating her own life, she repeats in broken tones the words of life which she had heard from the living.

And now, besides all this, even the Body which she was glad, in a way, to have kept, she believes to have gone.

And can Thou asketh her, 'Woman, why art thou weeping?' Had she not reason to weep? For she had seen with her own eyes---if she could bear to look---what cruel men cruelly did to Thee; and now all that was left of Thee from their hands she thinks she has lost. All hope of Thee has fled, for now she has not even Thy lifeless Body to remind her of Thee.

And someone asks, 'Whom art thou looking for? Why art thou weeping?'

Thou, her sole joy, should be the last thus to increase her sorrow. But Thou knowest it all well, and thus Thou didst wish it to be, for only in such broken words and sighs can she convey a cause of grief as great as hers. The love Thou hast inspired Thou didst not ignore.

And indeed Thou knowest her well, the gardener, Who planted her soul in His garden. What Thou plantest, I think Thou doth also water.

Does Thou water, I wonder, or does Thou test her? In fact, Thou art both watering and putting to the test.

But now, good Lord, gentle Master, look upon Thy faithful servant and disciple, so lately redeemed by Thy Blood, and see how she burneth with anxiety, desiring Thee, searching all round, questioning, and what she longest for is nowhere found.

Nothing she seest canst satisfy her, since Thou Whom alone she wouldst behold, she seest not. What then?

How long will my Lord leave His beloved to suffer thus? Have Thou put off compassion now Thou hast put on incorruption? Did Thou let go of goodness when Thou didst lay hold of immortality? Let it not be so, Lord.

Thou will not despise us mortals now Thou hast made Thyself immortal, for Thou didst make Thyself a mortal in order to give us immortality. And so it is; for love's sake He canst not bear her grief for long or go on hiding Himself. For the sweetness of love He showeth Himself Who would not for the bitterness of tears.

The Lord calls His servant by the name she hast often heard and the servant doth know the voice of her own Lord.

I think, or rather I am sure, that she responded to the gentle tone with which He was accustomed to call, 'Mary'. What joy filled that voice, so gentle and full of love.

He could not have put it more simply and clearly: 'I know who thou art and what thou wanteth; behold Me; do not weep, behold Me; I am He Whom Thou seekest.'

At once the tears are changed; I do not believe that they stopped at once, but where once they were wrung from a heart broken and self-tormenting they flow now from a heart exulting. How different is, 'Master!' from 'If thou hast taken Him away, tell me'; and, 'They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him,' has a very different sound from, 'I have seen the Lord, and He hast spoken to me.'

But how should I, in misery and without love, dare to describe the love of God and the blessed friend of God? Such a flavour of goodness will make my heart sick if it has in itself nothing of that same virtue.

But in truth, Thou Who art very truth, Thou knowest me well and canst testify that I write this for the love of Thy love, my Lord, my most dear Jesus.

I want Thy love to burn in me as Thou commandest so that I may desire to love Thee alone and sacrifice to Thee a troubled spirit, 'a broken and a contrite heart'.

Give me, O Lord, in this exile, the bread of tears and sorrow for which I hunger more than for any choice delights.

Hear me, for Thy love, and for the dear merits of Thy beloved Mary, and Thy blessed Mother, the greater Mary.

Redeemer, my good Jesus, do not despise the prayers of one who hast sinned against Thee but strengthen the efforts of a weakling that loves Thee.

Shakest my heart out of its indolence, Lord, and in the ardour of Thy love bringest me to the everlasting sight of Thy glory where with the Father and the Holy Spirit Thou livest and reignest, God, for ever. Amen.


Image:
Ugalino de Nerio's Mary Magdalene from the Web Gallery of Art

Thursday, November 5, 2009

St. Salaun and His Lily


Here, a few days late, is the story of Salaun, a canonized saint whose feast day is November 1. The setting is 14th century Brittany (a region in northwestern France, on a peninsula between the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay).

According to Baring-Gold, St. Salaun's life was originally recorded by Jean de Langouezenou, a Benedictine monk who was the abbot of Landevenec and a contemporary of Salaun. The original account was lost and so it cannot be determined how much the more recent versions vary from the original. In summary, this is the story:
Salaun (also referred to as Yann Salacin, Solomon, or Salomon) was a poor child from the area of Lesneven. At school, he learned to revere the Blessed Virgin Mary. He learned nothing else.

He would gather flowers in the fields and bring them to the Virgin's altar where he spent hours every day.

He begged his food by the roadside and by knocking at doors. He would plead, "O Lady Virgin Mary! Salaun would like some bread!" He often wandered in a certain wooded area and slept in the trees or in the barns of peasants. He would swing in the branches of the trees singing "Ave Maria".

Once during the disputes between Charles of Blois and the Count of Montfort, some soldiers asked him to which side he belonged and he replied, "Neither to Blois nor to Montfort, but to Mary".

Because he was regarded as a simpleton, he came to be called "The Fool" and the woods he inhabited "Fool's Wood" (Folgoat or Follcoat).

Salaun died on All Saints' Day around 1358 and was buried in a churchyard. From his grave, a tall, pure white lily grew. The grave was opened and it was discovered that the lily sprang from Salaun's mouth. Some accounts say the petals of the lily were inscribed with the phrase he used to cry -- "O Lady Virgin Mary!" Others say they were inscribed with "Ave Maria", written in gold.

A church was erected in the Fool's Wood called "Notre Dame de Folgoat", which portrays the story in a stained glass window. The church became the most popular pilgrimage destination in lower Brittany.
Sources:
Baring-Gold, Sabine; The Lives of the Saints, Vol. 13 (1898), pp. 40-41.
Sedgwick, Anne Douglas; A Childhood in Brittany Eighty Years Ago (1919), pp. 196-197.

Image:
"Lilium Neilgherense", an illustration by Walter Hood Fitch (1817-1892), from Wikimedia Commons. In the public domain.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Foliage and Form in Church Flower Arrangements - Part 2


This is the second part of a two-part post on foliage and form in church flower arrangements relying on Katherine Morrison McClinton's 1944 book, Flower Arrangement in the Church. Here McClinton describes the three types of massed arrangements she views as especially suitable for church decoration: the massed triangle, the massed oval, and the massed vertical:
"HOW TO MAKE A MASSED TRIANGLE

"In making a massed triangle arrangement, always start with a tall center stalk as your primary line. Then measure two stalks of identical length and place them horizontally to each side of the vase. Continue filling in the triangle with flowers. Place the heavy or dark colored flowers for emphasis in the massed triangle low in the vase and radiate the second triangle with stalks of lighter toned flowers back of the small triangle. Combinations of flowers which are excellent for this arrangement are amaryllis with a delphinium fan; roses with delphinium; roses with stock and anemones; tulips with dogwood; Madonna lilies or peonies with double syringa. It is not necessary always to have a contrast in hue as two or more different varieties of flowers give a contrast in texture which is interesting. The same floral design may be made with one variety of flower backed with a fan of leaves. . . .

"The shape and proportion of the triangle arrangement may vary with the size of the arrangement desired, as this arrangement can be made in a small altar vase or a large urn vase to be set [elsewhere in the sanctuary] . . .

"MAKING A MASSED OVAL ARRANGEMENT

"In making an oval arrangement, first place the center or core flowers low and firm near the base and the other flowers can be made to radiate about this center. An oval arrangement should have depth, as well as height and breadth, and this can be accomplished by turning some flowers to the side and others to the front. An oval arrangement is especially suited to vases with bulges or full-curved contours and to churches with oval archways.

"MAKING A MASSED VERTICAL ARRANGEMENT

"A massed vertical arrangement is particularly suitable for a simple, tall vase, although a tall urn may be used. First of all, place the vertical stalks, then place the secondary stalks which may be down near the vase or may ascend rhythmically alongside the vertical so that they too form a vertical line. Contrast in flower form is necessary to make this type of arrangement successful. For the tall vertical stock, delphinium or lilac may be used, while the secondary line may be built up with roses, asters, or daffodils of various length stems."
Unfortunately, McClinton does not provide diagrams, but it is fairly easy to visualize what she describes, and a little trial and error ought to yield a good result.

Note that in part 1, posted previously, McClinton said that the massed vertical arrangement is especially suited to narrow spaces, narrow vases, and Gothic architecture. In small traditional chapels, one must usually work with narrow spaces (the altar shelf), so vertical arrangements in narrow vases might be best. On the other hand, if the sanctuary is large enough, with the priest's permission larger arrangements could be placed on pedestals elsewhere within the sanctuary, such as on either side of the altar.

Source:
McClinton, Katherine Morrison; Flower Arrangement in the Church (Morehouse-Gorham Co., New York, 1944, 1958 edition); pp. 49-52.

Image:
"Hippeastrum Pardinum", from Wikimedia Commons. In the public domain.