Posted on 02/06/2005 4:21:08 PM PST by Knitting A Conundrum
Meditation on Christ's Passion
When you prayed in the garden, Lord,
and the heaviness pressed all around you
as the full moon's light peaked through the olive trees,
and your apostles snored in the shadows,
and you sweated blood in the depths of your grief,
how heavy did today weigh on your shoulders,
with a war-torn world,
mad with bloodlust,
despising your peace,
hot with hatred and selfish fulfilment
sometimes done in the name of God,
or done in the name of self,
careless with all you have taught?
When they tied you to the pillar, Lord,
and scourged you in the Roman way,
a beating so severe that it alone could take a life,
as the weights at the ends of the whips,
and the heavy slap of the leather tore your flesh,
did you see the babies ripped for profit,
the innocents blown up to make a political statement,
the slaughtered millions killed
because they belonged to the wrong class,
or bloodline,
or culture
or faith
or country?
Which gave you the most pain,
the cruel leather,
or the knowlege how we would reject you?
When you walked that long walk
with the heavy crossbeam tied to your hands
as they paraded you and the others
to the Place of the Skull
amid a phalanx of proud and hard Roman soldiers
who hated the noise and the crowd and the foreignness of it all,
and took out their spite by tugging your bonds
and watching you fall with arms extended,
and when you saw your Mother there,
and the aching pain passed between you,
did you see all the other mothers
aching in their pain for what evildoers would do
to their sons and daughters in the days to come,
mothers of the disapeared,
mothers of political prisoners,
mothers of those slain by bombers,
mothers of the beaten and kidnapped,
mothers looking for children buried in mass graves,
mothers who watch their children starve for others' gain?
When they nailed you to the cross,
and hung you up to die the slow death
reserved for slaves and foreign traitors,
gradual suffocation
in hot, aching, painful breaths,
did our evil make the pain that much harder?
Did our lack of mercy and love
echo down the centuries like a pressing weight
making your sacrifice all the more painful?
And yet, still you managed to love us,
and gave us all you had left,
your mother,
your compassion,
your heart's blood.
Dear Lord,
Forgive us!
Amen.
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Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ's side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen
O Sacred Head
O Sacred Head surrounded
By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,
Reviled and put to scorn!
Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,
The glow of life decays,
Yet angel hosts adore Thee
And tremble as they gaze.
I see Thy strength and vigor
All fading in the strife,
And death, with cruel vigor,
Bereaving Thee of life;
O agony and dying!
O love to sinners free!
Jesus, all grace supplying,
O turn Thy face on me!
In this Thy bitter Passion,
Good Shepherd, think. of me,
With Thy most sweet compassion,
Unworthy though I be;
Beneath Thy Cross abiding,
'Forever would I rest,
In Thy dear love confiding,
And wilth Thy presence blest.
The Nailing
Did those who stood by you that awful day
tell you not to look,
O Lady of Sorrows,
As he was thrown to the ground,
naked, battered, bloody,
stretched out upon that dreadful crossbeam?
Did you cling to the Magdalene, O Sorrowful Mother,
as the Roman guards,
methodical and professional,
put those large square nails against his wrists,
hit hammer against nail?
Could anything prepare you
for the cries
ripped from his throat
as they finished their task?
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PRAYER TO OUR SORROWFUL MOTHER
O Mother of Sorrows, thou, who beneath the Cross of Jesus were given to
us as our Mother, look down with pity on us, thy children, who weep and
mourn in this valley of tears. By that sword of sorrow which pierced thy
Heart when thou looked upon the Face of thy dead Son, obtain for us
that comfort we so sorely need in our sufferings.
Thou were given to us our Mother in the hour of thy greatest grief that
thou might be mindful of our frailty and the evils that press upon us.
Without thy aid, O Sorrowful Mother, we cannot gain the victory in this
struggle against flesh and blood. Therefore, we seek thy help,
O Queen of Sorrows, lest we fall prey to the wiles of the enemy.
We are orphans in need of the guiding hand of our Mother amid the
dangers that threaten our destruction. Thou whose grief was boundless
as the sea, grant us by the memory of those sorrows the strength to be
victorious.
Intercede further, O Mother of Sorrows, for us and all who are near and
dear to us, that we may ever do the Will of thy Son, and may direct all
our actions to His honor, and to the furtherance of devotion to thy sorrows.
Amen.
Virgin Most Sorrowful, pray for us.
I kiss the wounds in your sacred head
with sorrow deep and true,
may every thought of mine this day
be an act of love for you.
I kiss the wounds in your sacred hands
with sorrow deep and true,
may every touch of my hands this day
be an act of love for you.
I kiss the wounds of your sacred feet
with sorrow deep and true,
may every step that I take this day
be an act of love for you.
I kiss the wound in your sacred side
with sorrow deep and true,
may every beat of my heart this day
be an act of love for you.
A SHORT WAY OF THE CROSS
As used by
The Franciscan Fathers on their Missions
First Station
Jesus Condemned to Death
O Jesus! so meek and uncomplaining, teach me resignation in trials.
Second Station
Jesus Carries His Cross
My Jesus, this Cross should be mine, not Thine; my sins crucified Thee.
Third Station
Our Lord Falls the First Time
O Jesus! by this first fall, never let me fall into mortal sin.
Fourth Station
Jesus Meets His Mother
O Jesus! may no human tie, however dear, keep me from following the road of the Cross.
Fifth Station
Simon the Cyrenean Helps Jesus Carry His Cross
Simon unwillingly assisted Thee; may I with patience suffer all for Thee.
Sixth Station
Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus
O Jesus! Thou didst imprint Thy sacred features upon Veronica's veil; stamp them also indelibly upon my heart.
Seventh Station
The Second Fall of Jesus
By Thy second fall, preserve me, dear Lord, from relapse into sin.
Eighth Station
Jesus Consoles the Women of Jerusalem
My greatest consolation would be to hear Thee say: "Many sins are forgiven thee, because thou hast loved much."
Ninth Station
Third Fall of Jesus
O Jesus! when weary upon life's long journey, be Thou my strength and my perseverance.
Tenth Station
Jesus Stripped of His Garments
My soul has been robbed of its robe of innocence; clothe me, dear Jesus, with the garb of penance and contrition.
Eleventh Station
Jesus Nailed to the Cross
Thou didst forgive Thy enemies; my God, teach me to forgive injuries and FORGET them.
Twelfth Station
Jesus Dies on the Cross
Thou art dying, my Jesus, but Thy Sacred Heart still throbs with love for Thy sinful children.
Thirteenth Station
Jesus Taken Down from the Cross
Receive me into thy arms, O Sorrowful Mother; and obtain for me perfect contrition for my sins.
Fourteenth Station
Jesus Laid in the Sepulchre
When I receive Thee into my heart in Holy Communion, O Jesus, make it a fit abiding place for Thy adorable Body. Amen.
O most merciful Jesus, lover of souls,lover of souls, I pray Thee,
by the agony of Thy most Sacred Heart and by the sorrows of Thine Immaculate Mother, wash in Thy Blood the sinners of the whole world who are now in their agony and are to die this day. Amen.
Heart of Jesus, once in agony, have mercy on the dying.
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