Posted on 02/25/2005 12:57:57 PM PST by Knitting A Conundrum
Passion of my Lord,
strengthen me,
so weak and ready to sin,
may memory of each drop of blood spilled
pour into my heart
like a beacon of love
to pull me back
into the way
of my Lord.
O Jesus!
Bring to mind
each labored, pain-filled breath,
each step towards Golgotha,
each blow,
each word of mocking
each glance at your loved ones,
each moment of darkness,
undertaken for love,
for hope,
for life.
In my weakness,
bring me here,
to the foot of your cross,
where I,
with the Magdeline,
will weep bitter tears,
where I,
with your Mother,
will watch with breaking heart,
where I,
with John,
shall stand witness to the wonder
Of God, emptying himself out for love,
dying,
that we might live.
When I feel so weak,
and mortal,
and lost,
and alone,
O Passion of Christ,
strengthen me,
that I might always know
the truth,
and in knowing,
be transformed,
safe,
in the heart of Christ.
Amen.
Prayer and Meditation Ping!
Please let me know if you would like on or off this pinglist.
O Mother of Sorrows,
how often I come here and kneel at your feet,
and see those sorrow-filled eyes
staring up
at the suffering and battered
face of your son,
and still,
you are able to take my hand,
and give it that little squeeze
that says, Have courage.
O Mother of Sorrows,
How often I come here,
and weep all my misery out on your shoulder,
filled with guilt and grief and remorse,
knowing full well the burden
that I have laid on your blessed Son's back,
and still you hold me close,
and comfort me.
O Mother of Sorrows,
How often I have come here,
wanting to comfort you
in your sorrow and your loss,
and found myself overcome with remorse and sadness
over what your son
chose to do that I might live,
and find myself comforted by the one I longed to aid.
O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
Thank you for despising not my petions,
but in your mercy,
hearing and answering me.
Amen.
Isaiah 53 (King James Version)
1Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the LORD revealed?
2For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
3He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
5But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
6All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
7He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.
8He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
9And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.
10Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
11He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.
12Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.
Thank you, Jesus, for going to the Cross for me. I will love You forever and ever. Amen
St. Dismas on the Cross
Your mouth tasted
of dust,
and blood,
and fear,
and pain.
Fear-
the knowledge of what was to come by sunset,
when you entered that darkness,
the pit that was awaiting you,
reward for your deeds.
Through the veil
of self-pity
and pain
and loathing,
you noticed the interplay
between the man in the middle
and those around him.
Yeshua...
had you heard that name before,
heard of the healings,
the teachings,
the holiness?
How battered he was now,
scourged
and stripped
and wounded
and dying.
Yeshua,
healer of the blind,
promiser of hope,
now the victim.
Did you notice the women
who came to watch,
daring the mockery of the soldiers,
focused only on him?
No loved ones for you
to witness your last moments -
those who might have cared
long realizing
that you would only bring them grief.
Had you been moved
when the procession stopped
as he hit the ground,
and his mother found him,
gave him one last caress
before you were dragged off again?
Did you notice those who cared,
she who wiped his face,
those who wept?
Did your gazes meet,
Yeshua's and yours,
did you see the depths of love
that could love even in the wells of death,
the depths of pain,
even someone like you?
And in that moment did you see
the truth in the Roman's sign?
Two Gardens
In one garden,
the lie was chosen
over the will of God,
and nature
groaned under the curse
and the grief
and the countless tears
of mankind
that followed.
In one garden,
quietly,
one full moon night
the will of God was chosen
over the lie
and nature knew
the promise of healing
that would free a woeful mankind
of its tears
had begun
in the unfathomable grief of
the one who said yes.
We adore Thee O Christ and we thank Thee, because by Thy most Holy cross, Thou hast redeemed the world!
Amen!
This in the Name of Love
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him,
what is man,
that you would join him,
walk the earth along side of him,
taste the dust,
feel the heat,
experience the cold,
know the fatigue,
joy,
sorrow,
loss,
frustration,
and this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him
that you would learn
to earn your bread
by work of your hands,
how it feels to grieve
at the loss of a parent,
to see the sorrow and fear
in the eyes of those who love you,
and to do this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would see his evil first hand,
feel the bite of it across your back,
know the pain of the torturer's art,
feel the blood flowing out of your body,
the bite of iron
tieing you to wood,
the breath that comes in ragged gulps,
harder and harder,
the indignity of a public death,
the death of a slave
or traitor,
and all this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would take upon your shoulders
all the sins
of an old and wicked race,
all the hate and greed and lust,
all the crime and anger and pride,
become so corrupt
for things you have not done,
that the weight of it
is incomprehensible,
and atone for it in your own blood,
and know so many
would walk away from you,
unmoved by what you would do
in the name of love?
In the folly of God's love
for a wayward mankind,
I am redeemed,
and bow down in grateful adoration.
Alleluia!
The Shroud
How white the linen
they laid out
at first.
How clean the water was
in its ewer,
waiting to be poured.
How fresh the towel.
Loving hands though,
soon turned the waters
ruby red
in a vain attempt
to erase some of the terrors of the day.
Sweet spice could not wholly
cover up the smell
of blood,
of pain,
of death,
of the cost of redemption.
Loving hands, though,
wrapped the linen snugly
over his prostrate form,
as if in final gesture,
a last farewell,
letting the whiteness of the sheet
turn what color it would,
Loving hands
never knowing
what image
their care
would leave behind.
Crosses
And calling the multitude together with his disciples, he said to them: If any man will follow me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel shall save it. Mark 8:34,35
There is that place
where heaven and earth come together,
and the world is renewed
in the pain and suffering
of one
who gave his all for love.
O Jesus,
teach me to bear my cross
with the same love.
When I stumble carrying it,
let me realize it is your hands
that help me stand back up,
readjust the weight,
and get ready to carry it again.
O Jesus,
for love of you,
teach me to love my cross,
and that road that brings me closer to you,
and at last,
when I stand before you,
may I find that it is not a cross that I am carrying,
but a victor's crown
to lay down at your feet
all for love.
Yeshua is indeed the bringer of promises and hope into our lives.
Isaiah 53:5 bump.
On the Road to Jerusalem One Friday in Spring
Those coming into the city
may have wondered about the small group
on the hill,
wondered idly about who was being executed
so close to the sabbath,
and at the feast-time, too.
Perhaps they shuddered at the thought
of such a shameful death
coming to them or theirs.
Perhaps they felt pity
that anyone would die that way.
Perhaps they stopped a moment to taunt.
Did they notice
a knot of women
standing close,
oblivious to the soldiers,
or to the mockers,
lost in their grief,
waiting?
Did they notice
how the sky darkened,
as if even the heavens
longed to weep?
Passion ping.
The Seven Last Words of Jesus Christ on the Cross
· "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (Luke 23:34)
· "Amen I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)
· "Woman, behold thy son...Behold thy mother." (John 19:26-27)
· "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matt. 27:46)
· "I thirst." (John 19:28)
· "It is finished." (John 19:30)
· "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." (Luke 23:46)
Ecce Homo: A meditation
You stand there Lord,
before the haughty Roman judge,
bloody,
beaten,
abandoned.
Behold, says Pilate.
So frail you seem,
as you lift your bloodied head
and look upon this gathered crowd,
hungry as jackals.
Bruised and battered, the face
that looks out over the assembly
gazes not with hot hatred
or numb resignation of the broken,
nor self-pity,
but with love
and grief
and an unfathomable caring
that yearns to heal each of us.
Lord, I am not worthy to meet your gaze.
Have I not, like Peter,
denied you?
Or like Judas, betrayed you;
Time after time, have I not
added to your stripes,
pierced your head
with the hard thorns of an unloving heart?
And yet here you stand,
pouring yourself out like a drink offering,
letting the cup be drained
until nothing is left.
Lord, you said the word to heal me -
let me never forget the price you paid.
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