Tag Archives: mother

23 May: Gloriosa


From the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Martyrs' Idyl, by Louise Imogen Guiney.

Virgo Gloriosa,

Mater Amantissima

by Louise Imogen Guiney

Glorious Virgin, Most Loving Mother

VINES branching stilly

Shade the open door,

In the house of Zion’s Lily,

Cleanly and poor.

O brighter than wild laurel

The Babe bounds in her hand,

The King, who for apparel

Hath but a swaddling-band,

And sees her heavenlier smiling than stars in His command!

Soon, mystic changes

Part Him from her breast,

Yet there awhile He ranges

Gardens of rest:

Yea, she the first to ponder

Our ransom and recall,

Awhile may rock Him under

Her young curls’ fall,

Against that only sinless love-loyal heart of all.

What shall inure Him

Unto the deadly dream

When the tetrarch shall abjure Him,

The thief blaspheme,

And scribe and soldier jostle

About the shameful Tree,

And even an Apostle

Demand to touch and see?—

But she hath kissed her Flower where the Wounds are to be.

Louisa Imogen Guiney was an American Poet who migrated to England towards the end of the XIX Century. What nightmares she imagines for baby Jesus! But no doubt frightening dreams came his way; I heard only yesterday that for two nights running my baby grandson had woken inconsolable despite enjoying the previous days, eating well, no sign of teething or pain, and getting off to sleep easily enough at bedtime. Parents have to kiss where the wounds shall be and have been. A God-given duty and grace.

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18 May, Our Blessed Lady’s Lullaby, III: thy joyful return.

Dryburgh abbey monument with Adam and Eve.

Rawlings explores the idea of Mary as a second Eve, a second Mother to the human race.

Leave now to wail, thou luckless wight
That wrought’st thy race’s woe,
Redress is found, and foiled is,
Thy fruit-alluring foe.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

The fruit of death from Paradise
Made thee exiled mourn;
My fruit of life to Paradise
Makes joyful thy return.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

Grow up, good fruit, be nourished by
These fountains two of me,
That only flow with maiden’s milk,
The only meat for thee.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

The risen Christ leads Adam and Eve out of hell into Paradise. Strasbourg Cathedral.

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17 May, Our Blessed Lady’s Lullaby, II: my child, my choice.

Mother of Good Counsel, Plowden, Shropshire.

In this section of his poem, Rawlings celebrates the bond of love between Mary and her babe, her bliss, her child, her choice. Let us pray for those mothers whose children are not their bliss and joy but a source of worry and despair, mothers who feel they have no choices.

My wits, my words, my deeds, my thoughts,
And else what is in me,
I rather will not wish to use,
If not in serving thee.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

My babe, my bliss, my child, my choice,
My fruit, my flower, and bud,
My Jesus, and my only joy,
The sum of all my good.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

My sweetness, and the sweetest most
That heaven could earth deliver,
Soul of my love, spirit of my life,
Abide with me for ever.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

Live still with me, and be my love,
And death will me refrain,
Unless thou let me die with thee,
To live with thee again.

Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my lives joy.

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8 May, Francis on Joseph V: A creatively courageous father.

Joseph, in this image of the Holy Family, is the strong man, supporting and protecting his beloved wife and baby with ‘creative courage’. We continue learning from Pope Francis about Saint Joseph, foster father of Jesus, husband of Mary.

If the first stage of all true interior healing is to accept our personal history and embrace even the things in life that we did not choose, we must now add another important element: creative courage. This emerges especially in the way we deal with difficulties. In the face of difficulty, we can either give up and walk away, or somehow engage with it. At times, difficulties bring out resources we did not even think we had.

As we read the infancy narratives, we may often wonder why God did not act in a more direct and clear way. Yet God acts through events and people.  Joseph was the man chosen by God to guide the beginnings of the history of redemption. He was the true “miracle” by which God saves the child and his mother. God acted by trusting in Joseph’s creative courage. Arriving in Bethlehem and finding no lodging where Mary could give birth, Joseph took a stable and, as best he could, turned it into a welcoming home for the Son of God come into the world (cf. Lk 2:6-7). Faced with imminent danger from Herod, who wanted to kill the child, Joseph was warned once again in a dream to protect the child, and rose in the middle of the night to prepare the flight into Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-14).

A superficial reading of these stories can often give the impression that the world is at the mercy of the strong and mighty, but the “good news” of the Gospel consists in showing that, for all the arrogance and violence of worldly powers, God always finds a way to carry out his saving plan. So too, our lives may at times seem to be at the mercy of the powerful, but the Gospel shows us what counts. God always finds a way to save us, provided we show the same creative courage as the carpenter of Nazareth, who was able to turn a problem into a possibility by trusting always in divine providence.

If at times God seems not to help us, surely this does not mean that we have been abandoned, but instead are being trusted to plan, to be creative, and to find solutions ourselves.

The Gospel does not tell us how long Mary, Joseph and the child remained in Egypt. Yet they certainly needed to eat, to find a home and employment. It does not take much imagination to fill in those details. The Holy Family had to face concrete problems like every other family, like so many of our migrant brothers and sisters who, today too, risk their lives to escape misfortune and hunger. In this regard, I consider Saint Joseph the special patron of all those forced to leave their native lands because of war, hatred, persecution and poverty.

At the end of every account in which Joseph plays a role, the Gospel tells us that he gets up, takes the child and his mother, and does what God commanded him (cf. Mt 1:24; 2:14.21). Indeed, Jesus and Mary his Mother are the most precious treasure of our faith.[21]

In the divine plan of salvation, the Son is inseparable from his Mother, from Mary, who “advanced in her pilgrimage of faith, and faithfully persevered in her union with her Son until she stood at the cross”.[22]

We should always consider whether we ourselves are protecting Jesus and Mary, for they are also mysteriously entrusted to our own responsibility, care and safekeeping. The Son of the Almighty came into our world in a state of great vulnerability. He needed to be defended, protected, cared for and raised by Joseph. God trusted Joseph, as did Mary, who found in him someone who would not only save her life, but would always provide for her and her child. In this sense, Saint Joseph could not be other than the Guardian of the Church, for the Church is the continuation of the Body of Christ in history, even as Mary’s motherhood is reflected in the motherhood of the Church.[23] In his continued protection of the Church, Joseph continues to protect the child and his mother, and we too, by our love for the Church, continue to love the child and his mother.

That child would go on to say: “As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40).  Consequently, every poor, needy, suffering or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person is “the child” whom Joseph continues to protect. For this reason, Saint Joseph is invoked as protector of the unfortunate, the needy, exiles, the afflicted, the poor and the dying.  Consequently, the Church cannot fail to show a special love for the least of our brothers and sisters, for Jesus showed a particular concern for them and personally identified with them. From Saint Joseph, we must learn that same care and responsibility. We must learn to love the child and his mother, to love the sacraments and charity, to love the Church and the poor. Each of these realities is always the child and his mother.

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24 March: Lenten Pilgrimage XVIII: Stations of the Cross for the Synod

Pieta, St Thomas of Canterbury, photo MMB

The Stations of the Cross were devised to help Christians walk with Jesus on Good Friday. This set were composed for the synod by Sister Inigo SSA of New Delhi. Her meditations are imagined witness statements from people who were there in Jerusalem, with contemporary insights, especially of the lives of women. With Mary’s great feast coming tomorrow, we turn to Sister’s 13th Station to remind ourselves what her ‘Let it be done to me’ cost her. The link below leads to the full service from the synod website.

What does Good Friday mean to us today? When we look around us, we see families falling apart,
society being plagued by individualism, people being terrorised in the name of religion, social
activists being silenced, freedom of expression being stifled and the cry of the poor and the
marginalised for justice growing louder. The times we live in are pervaded with hopelessness,
uncertainty, depression and panic.


The Holy Father invites the Church to journey on the Synodal path of communion, participation
and mission identifying itself with the lost and the least, by attentively listening to their cries, just
as Jesus walks to Calvary carrying His cross. Let us walk with Him in this Way of the Cross, adding
our own brokenness to Christ’s suffering and to bring healing to the wounded humanity

THE THIRTEENTH STATION: My beloved son on my lap!
We adore you ……….
He was a notorious young boy. On the day, he came out of the jail on bail, he was fully drunk and
was jaywalking in the middle of the road. A truck hit him and he died on the spot. A large
number of people, who saw his mangled body, heaved a sigh of relief. From amidst the crowd, a
lady with torn clothes was running to the spot. She lifted the body of her son onto her lap and
started wailing and weeping loudly calling him “my son, my son!”. How many times would he
have pushed her to the ground and left her to bleed! Yet…see the affection of the mother! A
mother is love personified. She is like the hen fighting an eagle that tries to snatch her chicks!

When the body of Jesus was laid on the lap of Mother Mary what could have been her feelings?
Were they joyful tears because her son lived and died for a noble cause? Or, were they sorrowful
tears because her son was cruelly killed by people, who misunderstood and wrongly
misinterpreted His teachings? We may never know. We learn from the Scriptures that Mother
Mary became the first disciple of Jesus’ Movement and she became the leader of Jesus’
missionary band! And so, Mother Mary is the perfect model to all the mothers today.

On our Synodal journey, like Mother Mary, we need to ponder over everything in our hearts and
get ready to ‘do whatever he tells us’. Let us place all our Synodal deliberations, hopes and plans
in those very hands in which the broken body of Jesus was placed.

We Pray: Dear Jesus, the formation of our children is in our hands. Whether they will be the
disciplined citizens or derelicts depends upon their formation. Help us to form our children
based on your exemplary life, into spiritual beings having human experiences, Amen!

Sr. Inigo SSA
Dwarka, New Delhi

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25 February: The Open-handed Missionary III

A teenage girl I used to work with was prone to slashing her arms, but soon after conceiving her daughter she told me, ‘I don’t need that now I’ve got my baby.’ Is it oversimplifying matters to say that loving her baby gave her the freedom to be herself, to love herself? From the way she has surmounted major difficulties since then, I would say that the process of maternal service has indeed enabled her to become a more complete human being.

She is not a churchgoer, but she ponders these things in her heart. Her mustard seed faith enables her to deal with her second daughter’s disability and all the operations that will entail. I take comfort from Pope Francis’s reading of the Angelical Doctor:

37. Saint Thomas Aquinas taught that … What counts above all else is “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6). Works of love directed to one’s neighbour are the most perfect external manifestation of the interior grace of the Spirit: “The foundation of the New Law is in the grace of the Holy Spirit, who is manifested in the faith which works through love”.

My young friend’s unofficial faith works through love: she is not far from the Kingdom of God. That is what Jesus told the Scribe when discussing the two greatest commandments, love of God and love of neighbour.

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8 December, Advent Light VIII: Glory revealed.

Our Lady of Walsingham

Our prayer for Mary’s feast is from the Anglican morning prayer for her birthday, 8 September, nine months from today, her immaculate conception. Not that we have any insight into her actual birthday, any more than we do for her Son. But we can light a candle, all the same, and make this prayer our own.

Almighty and everlasting God,
who stooped to raise fallen humanity
through the child-bearing of blessed Mary:
grant that we, who have seen your glory
revealed in our human nature
and your love made perfect in our weakness,
may daily be renewed in your image
and conformed to the pattern of your Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

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14 November: Grief must be Digested, II

Elizabeth’s Rose

Here’s a story that follows on naturally from Dr Johnson’s wise words yesterday.

The first lady had just celebrated her birthday. ‘I always buy myself a present from my mother out of the money she left me when she died 14 years ago. This year I bought myself a red rose bush.’

Her friend’s reaction was quite different. ‘I can’t bear roses in the garden, they were my mother’s favourite flowers and I just can’t look at them now. And you remember that I gave you all my lilies of the valley for the same reason. Those pretty little bells and the gorgeous scent. It was too much for me. But they are creeping back in the corner by the shed. I don’t like to think of ripping them out again.’

The rose shown here has a story of grief and remembrance, which you can find here. You can find Elizabeth’s rose next to Saint Mildred’s church in Canterbury.

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17 August: The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus, III.

Simeon prophesied sorrow and salvation to Mary.
VIII.
Art Thou a King, then? 
Come, His universe,
Come, crown me Him a King!
Pluck rays from all such stars as never fling
Their light where fell a curse,
And make a crowning for this kingly brow!—
What is my word? Each empyreal star
Sits in a sphere afar
In shining ambuscade:
The child-brow, crowned by none,
Keeps its unchildlike shade.
Sleep, sleep, my crownless One!
IX.
Unchildlike shade! No other babe doth wear
An aspect very sorrowful, as Thou.
No small babe-smiles my watching heart has seen
To float like speech the speechless lips between,
No dovelike cooing in the golden air,
No quick short joys of leaping babyhood.
Alas, our earthly good
In heaven thought evil, seems too good for Thee;
Yet, sleep, my weary One!
X.
And then the drear sharp tongue of prophecy,
With the dread sense of things which shall be done,
Doth smite me inly, like a sword: a sword?
That "smites the Shepherd." Then, I think aloud
The words "despised,"—"rejected,"—every word
Recoiling into darkness as I view
The Darling on my knee.
Bright angels,—move not—lest ye stir the cloud
Betwixt my soul and His futurity!
I must not die, with mother's work to do,
And could not live-and see.

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17 June: Today this is my vocation IV: filial piety.

Bataille_de_Bantry_Bay_(1689).png (562×385)
from Wikipedia

Here is another consecutive post from Sussex, and another reminder of what our vocation might consist of, today, this minute. There are people we cannot visit in person, but an email or postcard would be appreciated, and would have pride of place on the bookshelf or in the frame of the mirror, or under a fridge magnet, where it can give light to the whole house.

Among the inhabitants of the old town of Hastings was the mother of Sir Cloudesley Shovell, the admiral. A charming account of a visit paid to her by her son is given in De la Prynne’s diary from the end of the XVII Century.

I heard a gentleman say, who was in the ship with him about six years ago, that as they were sailing over against the town, of Hastings, in Sussex, Sir Cloudesley called out, ‘Pilot, put near; I have a little business on shore.’ So he put near, and Sir Cloudesley and this gentleman went to shore in a small boat, and having walked about half a mile, Sir Cloudesley came to a little house [in All Saints Street], ‘Come,’ says he, ‘my business is here; I came on purpose to see the good woman of this house.’

Upon this they knocked at the door, and out came a poor old woman, upon which Sir Cloudesley kissed her, and then falling down on his knees, begged her blessing, and calling her mother (who had removed out of Yorkshire hither). He was mightily kind to her, and she to him, and after that he had made his visit, he left her ten guineas, and took his leave with tears in his eyes and departed to his ship.

From Highways and Byways in Sussex, by E. V. Lucas.

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