Prayer Thread - Friday Meditation

Knitting A Conundrum

[Knitting A Conundrum]

Friday morning in spring,
was the weather mild
or cool that day
as the passover crowds milled through the street,
in festive mood?

Did the whisper pass
from ear to ear that morning
about the trial,
letting the crowd gather at the courtyard
to witness another passover,
a spectacle unexpected, perhaps,
but which would shout through the centuries.

How frail you must have seemed
when he presented you
to the leaders
to the gathering group,
beaten, bloody,
so far removed from the prophet-king
of last Sunday,
no hosannas this time,
just calls for your blood.

Some merely curious,
some angry,
some caught up in the emotion of the moment,
calling out,
watching,
waiting
as the sentence was passed
and they led you away to be slaughtered,
the pascal lamb,
where your blood would be smeared on the lintel,
your arms stretched out to heaven
to set us free.

Amen

[Knitting A Conundrum]

Please join me, this first Friday of Lent, and think about that particular Friday so long ago, and what it means.

[Knitting A Conundrum]

prayer ping!

[Knitting A Conundrum]

O good and dearest Jesus,
I kneel before your face.
With all my heart
I ask you
to place in my heart
more faith, hope and charity.
Give me a true sorrow for my sins
and a strong will to do better
With great sorrow and grief
I look upon your five wounds
and think about them.
Before my eyes are the words
that the prophet David said of you,
O good Jesus:
"They have pierced my hands and feet
They have numbered all my bones."

[Jaded]

Thanks

[Knitting A Conundrum]

Thoughts on the Passion

Whenever anyone sighs toward Me with love in meditation on My passion, it is as though he gently touched My wounds with a fresh-budding rose, and I wound his heart in return with the arrows of My love. Moreover, if he shed tears of devotion over My passion, I will accept them as though he had suffered for Me. - Our Lord to St. Mechtilde


Dear Jesus,
Bring to mind often
that sad, holy, day,
when you carried that horrendous burden
sin of the world
on your sinless, torn and battered back,
the unrighteousness of others
on you, the Son of righteousness,
the hatred and evilness of selfish lack of love
on you who were all love,
all that darkness
on the shoulders of you who are always the Light.

O Lord,
let me think of the crowd,
and know it was my sins
that set them screaming for your blood.
let me think of the whip
that my sin drove to cut your skin,
let me know that my hand
hammered the nails
through all the times I have chosen
to do wrong, not counting the cost.

Lord,
Let me never take for granted
the pain, the grief, the sorrow
of what you did.
Instead let me offer you
the tears of my remorse,
the sighs of my heart,
and know how much I am loved,
now and forever.

Amen.

[Knitting A Conundrum]

PRAYER: DIVINE JESUS IN MEMORY OF THE SEVEN LAST WORDS

O Good Jesus, Son of the living God, Who for our salvation didst vouchsafe to be born in a stable, to live in poverty, suffering and misery, and to die amidst the torments of the Cross, say to Thy Divine Father, I beseech Thee, at the hour of my death: "Father, forgive him;" say to Thy beloved Mother: "Behold thy son;" say to my soul: "This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise." My God, my god, forsake me not in that hour! "I thirst!" verily, my God, my soul thirsteth after Thee, Who art the fountain of living waters. My life passeth by like a shadow; yet a little while, and all things shall be accomplished. Whereupon, my adorable Savior, from this moment to all eternity, "into Thy hands I commend my spirit." Lord, Jesus, receive my soul. Amen.