The Glories of Mary by St. Alphonsus Liguori (Online) & other Titles ...
www.themostholyrosary.com/catholic-books-virgin-mary.htm
Read classic Catholic books (free online) of The Most Blessed Virgin Mary.
Sunday 15 September 2013
The Glories of Mary
COMMENT:
OUR LADY OF SORROWS AND HER SEVEN DOLORS Feast: September 15
4 Sept 2013 On the main stairs of the Guesthouse, it was an opportune occasion to take down the 7 painting of the Seven Sorrows of Mary, and scan the pictures to keep them for archive.
The future days of the Guesthouse are at the moment in question.
1. Prophecy
of Simeon - reflect on
and sympathize in the sorrow of our Blessed Lady, when she presented her Divine
Child in the Temple, and heard from the aged Simeon that a sword of grief should
pierce her soul on His account.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
2. Flight into Egypt - reflect on her sorrow when, to escape the cruelty of King Herod, she was forced to fly into Egypt with St. Joseph and her beloved Child.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
3. Three-day Separation from Jesus in Jerusalem - reflect on her grief, when, in returning from Jerusalem she perceived that she had lost her dear Jesus, whom she sought sorrowing during three days.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
4. Meeting Christ on the Road to Calvary - reflect on her meeting her Divine Son, all bruised and mangled, carrying His cross to Calvary, and seeing Him fall under His heavy weight.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
5. Crucifixion and Death of Jesus
Christ - reflect on her
standing by when her Divine Son was lifted up on the cross, and the blood
flowed in streams from His sacred wounds.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
6. Our Lord is Taken Down from
the Cross (Pieta) -
reflect on her sorrow, when her Divine Son was taken down from the cross, and
she received Him into her arms.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
7. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is Buried in the Tomb - contemplate her following His sacred body, as it was borne by Joseph of Arimathea, and Nicodemus, to the sepulchre, enclosed there, and hidden from her sight.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
3 Hail Mary's in honor of the Sorrowful tears of Our Lady
V. Pray for us, O most Sorrowful Virgin
R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ
Let us pray:
Lord Jesus, we now implore, both for the present and for the hour of our death, the intercession of the most Blessed Virgin Mary, Thy Mother, whose holy soul was pierced at the time of Thy Passion by a sword of grief. Grant us this favor, O Saviour of the world, Who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Ghost for ever and ever. Amen.
The future days of the Guesthouse are at the moment in question.
Scanned the irreplaceable 7 Dolors of Mary from 1946(?) Guesthouse,
now where to?
One friend suggests the 7 Pillars on one of the Cloisters.
I wish if we could find the name of the artist, it may be possible to replace the bleached prints from the early sun window.
SALVATION OF THE
WORLD
Welcome to
the La Pieta homepage dedicated to saving many souls through prayer and devotion
to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary
Seven Dolours (Sorrows) of Mary
This is a devotion instituted in
the course of the thirteenth century, in honor of the sorrows of the Blessed
Virgin Mary, endured by her in compassion for the suffering and death of her
Divine Son.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
2. Flight into Egypt - reflect on her sorrow when, to escape the cruelty of King Herod, she was forced to fly into Egypt with St. Joseph and her beloved Child.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
3. Three-day Separation from Jesus in Jerusalem - reflect on her grief, when, in returning from Jerusalem she perceived that she had lost her dear Jesus, whom she sought sorrowing during three days.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
4. Meeting Christ on the Road to Calvary - reflect on her meeting her Divine Son, all bruised and mangled, carrying His cross to Calvary, and seeing Him fall under His heavy weight.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
7. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is Buried in the Tomb - contemplate her following His sacred body, as it was borne by Joseph of Arimathea, and Nicodemus, to the sepulchre, enclosed there, and hidden from her sight.
Our Father, Seven Hail Mary's
3 Hail Mary's in honor of the Sorrowful tears of Our Lady
V. Pray for us, O most Sorrowful Virgin
R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ
Let us pray:
Lord Jesus, we now implore, both for the present and for the hour of our death, the intercession of the most Blessed Virgin Mary, Thy Mother, whose holy soul was pierced at the time of Thy Passion by a sword of grief. Grant us this favor, O Saviour of the world, Who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Ghost for ever and ever. Amen.
+ + +
References of the New Testament:
The First Sorrow of Mary: The Prophecy of Simeon at
the Presentation in the Temple (Lk 2:22-35)
The Second Sorrow of Mary: The Flight into Egypt
(Mt 2:13-21)
The Third Sorrow of Mary: The Loss of Jesus in the
Temple (Lk 2:41-50)
The Fourth Sorrow of Mary: Mary Encounters Jesus on
the Way of the Cross (John 19:1; Luke 23:26-32)
The Fifth Sorrow of Mary: Jesus Dies on the Cross
(Mark 15:22; John 19:18, 25-27; Mark 15:34; Luke 23:46)
The Sixth Sorrow of Mary: Jesus Is Taken Down From
the Cross (John 19:31-34, 38; Lam 1:12)
The Seventh Sorrow of Mary: Jesus is Laid in the
Tomb (Matthew 27:59; John 19:38-42; Mark 15:46; Luke 27:55-56)
Return to
main page
This page is
the work of the Servants of the Pierced Hearts of Jesus and Mary
Saturday 14 September 2013
3 THOUGHTS ON “MADONNA OF THE BASS ROCK”
Walking along this anonymous, clinical corridor,
I don’t quite know what it is I am looking for,
except that I would be glad to see a little light,
a sign that something glimmers when this road has been so hard.
I don’t quite know what it is I am looking for,
except that I would be glad to see a little light,
a sign that something glimmers when this road has been so hard.
And then I see two familiar things:
A madonna and child,
and that dark, bird-frosted rock,
that almost-island with its history
of prisoners and hermits,
of castles and prisons,
a dark place, and yet a place of some kind of light.
A madonna and child,
and that dark, bird-frosted rock,
that almost-island with its history
of prisoners and hermits,
of castles and prisons,
a dark place, and yet a place of some kind of light.
That century-old lighthouse could offer some kind of
glimmer to my dark place,
but it is not this light of warning and concern that fixes me in its beam,
but a different light.
It is the light of that child’s gaze.
He fixes me in his steady, contemplative look
and bids me stand awhile and look back.
I look and I recognise.
I look and I hear;
‘I am here. I am life. I am.’
but it is not this light of warning and concern that fixes me in its beam,
but a different light.
It is the light of that child’s gaze.
He fixes me in his steady, contemplative look
and bids me stand awhile and look back.
I look and I recognise.
I look and I hear;
‘I am here. I am life. I am.’
[John Bellany's Madonna of the Bass Rock of 1997 is on display in
the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, courtesy of Art in Healthcare. I
thank them for placing this image in my way when things were hard.]
rosemaryhannah on said:
Friday 13 September 2013
THE EXALTATION OF THE HOLY CROSS OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST Feast
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Feast of the Church : The exaltation of the Holy Cross, feast |
| Community Liturgy Office |
Saint Bernard (1091-1153), Cistercian monk and doctor of the Church
Meditation on the Passion (attrib.), 6, 13-15 ; PL 184, 747
Far be it for me to glory except in the cross of my Lord Jesus Christ (Gal 6,14). The cross is your glory, the cross is your dominion. Behold, upon your shoulders dominion rests (Is 9,5). Those who bear your cross, bear your glory. That is why the cross, which makes unbelievers quail, is more beautiful than all the trees of paradise to believers. Was Christ afraid of the cross? Or Peter? Or Andrew? To the contrary, they longed for it. Christ went to meet it “like a champion joyfully running his course” (Ps 19[18],6): “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I die” (Lk 22,15). He ate the Passover even as he suffered his Passion when he passed from this world to his Father. He ate and drank on the cross, he was drunk with wine and fell asleep...
From henceforth who can fear the cross? Lord, I may traverse heaven and earth, the sea and dry land, yet will never find you except on the cross. It is there you sleep, there you pasture your flock, there you rest at noonday (Sg 1,7). One who is united to his Lord sweetly sings upon this cross: “You, O Lord, my encircling shield, my glory, you lift up my head” (Ps 3,4). None seeks for you, none finds you except on the cross. O glorious cross, embed yourself in me that I may be found in thee.
From henceforth who can fear the cross? Lord, I may traverse heaven and earth, the sea and dry land, yet will never find you except on the cross. It is there you sleep, there you pasture your flock, there you rest at noonday (Sg 1,7). One who is united to his Lord sweetly sings upon this cross: “You, O Lord, my encircling shield, my glory, you lift up my head” (Ps 3,4). None seeks for you, none finds you except on the cross. O glorious cross, embed yourself in me that I may be found in thee.
JOHN BELLANY, MADONNA OF THE BASS ROCK
Hundreds attend artist John Bellany’s funeral
by Rory Reynolds
HE was the highly acclaimed painter whose works of art hanging in galleries across the globe portray the weather-beaten and at times grim Scotland that he adored.
HE was the highly acclaimed painter whose works of art hanging in galleries across the globe portray the weather-beaten and at times grim Scotland that he adored.
Hundreds of mourners have attended the funeral of John Bellany, the East Lothian painter inspired by the tragedies of the fishing community he was raised in.
First Minister Alex Salmond and artists Richard Demarco and John Byrne were among those who paid their respects at a packed funeral service in Edinburgh yesterday.
Bellany died on Wednesday 28 August at his studio aged 71. His family said he was “clutching a paint brush in his hand as he took his final breath”.
His three children paid tribute to their father during the celebration of his life at St Giles’ Cathedral on the city’s Royal Mile.
“ ”
BBC broadcaster Baroness Bakewell gave a reading while Mario Conti, Archbishop Emeritus of Glasgow, led the congregation in prayer.
. . . . . .
Alexander Moffat, the Scots artist, delivered the eulogy to his long-time university friend.
. . . .“He said being Scottish has always mattered enormously, I carry Scotland in my soul. Wherever I go and meet people, Family, Port Seton, East Lothian then Scotland are the definition of identity, his sense of nation and a starting point for his dialogue with the countries of the world.”
Afterward, those who attended gathered on Parliament Square to exchange anecdotes from his colourful life.
John Byrne, the playwright and artist, was a friend of Bellany’s since they studied at the Edinburgh School of Art.
........... Bellany’s paintings feature in the collections of galleries including the National Galleries of Scotland, Tate Britain in London and the Museum of Modern Art in New York. He was awarded a CBE by the Queen in 1994.
Richard Demarco, the arts impresario and promoter, added: “I knew John all my life, we first met when we were students.
He said: “He recovered the great tradition of European painting that goes back to Rembrandt, where the whole agony of the human experience that can be defined in paint.
“On the other hand he also expressed the joy of being alive in his later works.
“His contribution was enormous and he was single minded in his work.”
He added: “The service here today was among the finest I have seen, with so many from Scottish society here to celebrate his life. “He would have been grateful, and proud.”
aih-art.com/gallery.php?regno=P853 Art in Healthcare
MADONNA OF THE BASS ROCK
by JOHN BELLANY
Madonna of the Bass Rock by John Bellany
Watercolour 1997 90 x 71 cm Reg. Number P853
This striking watercolour portrays the Bass Rock off the coast of North Berwick, an important landmark in Scotland's natural, political and cultural history. The artist, John Bellany, is a native of East Lothian and his work often displays influence from the coast of the Firth of Forth. John has fully used the liquid effect of watercolours to create a violent seascape, with clashing bands of paint forming waves. The artist has chosen a dark, turbulent colour palette, where blues and greens clash with reds and yellows. The pencil outlines of the original image are still visible, even where there is no painted outline, adding to the rough sense of composition. The outlines also provide detail to the elements of the composition, such as the figures in the lower right corner and the details of the rock itself. Instead of using white paint, which would have been difficult in watercolour, the artist has left space blank in order to create white patches and lighting. The eyes of the figures in the foreground have not been created with solid colour, but rather with a series of concentric circles and crosshatches.
The image is highly stylised, with the oversized facial features and irregular outlines typical of John's figurative work which emulates a time in art history before modern perspective became commonplace. The name and subject matter is reminiscent of traditional Christian artwork, a fitting theme given the Bass Rock's history as a Christian hermitage. A Madonna refers to a depiction of the Virgin Mary, often accompanied by the infant Christ, which was a popular subject in medieval icons. This painting has many aspects that refer to traditional iconography, such as the expressions of the foreground figures, which do not reflect human concerns but divine detachment, with the eyes of the mother and child focused on Heaven. The range of yellow and orange paints used to colour their skin reflects the gold of Byzantine icons, and the bright patch in the mother's hair suggests a rudimentary halo. Yet the form is also subverted: the background represents a contemporary seascape. Far from the beatific ideal of the Virgin, this mother is straggling haired, sunken-eyed, and emaciated: she is not a conventional Madonna, but a post-humanist figure, full of mortal frailty. It is her motherhood that is emphasised, not her divinity. The artist himself underwent a liver transplant in 1989 and mortality and human vulnerability became important themes in John's later work as a result.
John Bellany is recognised as one of the most influential post-war Scottish artists. Born in 1942 into a family of fishermen and boat builders in Port Seton, fishing communities and life by the coast have long influenced his work. He attended the Edinburgh College of Art and the Royal College of Art in London. His work can be found in the Metropolitan Museum and the Museum of Modern Art in New York and Tate Britain in London. In 1994, he received the CBE
The image is highly stylised, with the oversized facial features and irregular outlines typical of John's figurative work which emulates a time in art history before modern perspective became commonplace. The name and subject matter is reminiscent of traditional Christian artwork, a fitting theme given the Bass Rock's history as a Christian hermitage. A Madonna refers to a depiction of the Virgin Mary, often accompanied by the infant Christ, which was a popular subject in medieval icons. This painting has many aspects that refer to traditional iconography, such as the expressions of the foreground figures, which do not reflect human concerns but divine detachment, with the eyes of the mother and child focused on Heaven. The range of yellow and orange paints used to colour their skin reflects the gold of Byzantine icons, and the bright patch in the mother's hair suggests a rudimentary halo. Yet the form is also subverted: the background represents a contemporary seascape. Far from the beatific ideal of the Virgin, this mother is straggling haired, sunken-eyed, and emaciated: she is not a conventional Madonna, but a post-humanist figure, full of mortal frailty. It is her motherhood that is emphasised, not her divinity. The artist himself underwent a liver transplant in 1989 and mortality and human vulnerability became important themes in John's later work as a result.
John Bellany is recognised as one of the most influential post-war Scottish artists. Born in 1942 into a family of fishermen and boat builders in Port Seton, fishing communities and life by the coast have long influenced his work. He attended the Edinburgh College of Art and the Royal College of Art in London. His work can be found in the Metropolitan Museum and the Museum of Modern Art in New York and Tate Britain in London. In 1994, he received the CBE
Thursday 12 September 2013
The Name of Mary, Thursday 12 September 2013
The Most Holy Name of Mary
(Optional memorial)
(Optional memorial)
 |
| Santissimo Nome di Maria |
St. Bernard says and we say with him: "Look to the star of the sea, call upon Mary... in danger, in distress, in doubt, think of Mary, call upon Mary. May her name never be far from your lips, or far from your heart... If you follow her, you will not stray; if you pray to her, you will not despair; if you turn your thoughts to her, you will not err. If she holds you, you will not fall; if she protects you, you need not fear; if she is your guide, you will not tire; if she is gracious to you, you will surely reach your destination."
(Pope Benedict XVI address at Heiligenkreuz Abbey, September 9, 2007)
(Pope Benedict XVI address at Heiligenkreuz Abbey, September 9, 2007)
Collect
Grant, we pray, almighty God,
that, for all who celebrate the glorious Name
of the Blessed Virgin Mary,
she may obtain your merciful favor.
Though our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Grant, we pray, almighty God,
that, for all who celebrate the glorious Name
of the Blessed Virgin Mary,
she may obtain your merciful favor.
Though our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15464a.htm
The Name of Mary
The Blessed
Virgin Mary is the
mother of Jesus
Christ, the mother of God.The Hebrew form of her name is miryam denoting in the Old Testament only the sister of Moses. In 1 Chronicles 4:17, the Massoretic text applies the same name to a son of Jalon, but, as the Septuagint version transcribes this name as Maron, we must infer that the orthography of the Hebrew text has been altered by the transcribers. The same version renders miryam by Marian, a form analogous to the Syriac and Aramaic word Maryam. In the New Testament the name of the Virgin Mary is always Mariam, excepting in the Vatican Codex and the Codex Bezae followed by a few critics who read Mariain Luke 2:19. Possibly the Evangelists kept the archaic form of the name for the Blessed Virgin, so as to distinguish her from the other women who bore the same name. The Vulgate renders the name byMaria, both in the Old Testament and the New; Josephus (Ant. Jud., II, ix, 4) changes the name to Mariamme.
Wednesday 11 September 2013
Monastic Office of Vigils. Why is Origen not a Saint?
Twenty-Third Week Ordinary Time 11 September 2013
COMMENT:
Why is Origen not a Saint?
Or at least a revise of the Cause?
?
This morning the voice for love of Gentiles and
Israelites, ourselves, was heard from Origen.
His exactness and precision of enfolding words may
buffer us the flow, but his spirit, the gentleness and enkindling of heart, awakens our hearts.
Or maybe it is Hosea who awakes the Holy Spirit.
After a week of off-putting Readings of the prophet Amos
we are relieved by Hosea.
The Origen outreach goes to the souls, mind and heart,
each and one, to the embrace of the Father of his children.
WEDNESDAY 11th Sept. Monastic Office of Vigils.
First Reading
Hosea 1:1-9; 3:1-5
Responsory Hos 2:19-20.16
I will betroth you to myself forever, betroth you with righteousness and
justice, with tenderness and love. + I
will betroth you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know the Lord.
V. When that day comes you will call me My husband; you
will no longer call me My Baal. + I will
betroth ...
Second Reading From a commentary on Romans by Origen. [In Rom,. 14, 1151-1152].
God says through Hosea: Those who were not my people I will call my people,
and the unloved I will call my beloved. And in the very place where they were told,
"You are not my people," they shall be called children of the living God.
This testimony, which the Apostle takes from
Hosea, seems to refer in the prophet not to the Gentiles but to the Israelites
themselves; but Paul uses a parallel situation as an example to make his point.
Just as when the Israelites, abandoned and without hope, were told, You are not my people, and I am not your God, and
yet in the very place where they were told,
"you are not my people" they will be called children of the living God,
so too, he says,
we whom God has called not only from
the Jews but also from the Gentiles, who formerly were not his
people, he has now called his people, and we who were unloved he has called his
beloved, and in the very place where we were told, You are not my people, we shall be called children of the
living God.
But perhaps the Jews will ask us where it was
said to us that we were not the people of God, so that in the same place we
might be called children of the living God. For they claim that God said this
in Judea, since only there was he known. None of this refers to us because the
law speaks to those who are under the law.
But I will tell of a far worthier place in
which it was fitting and possible for God to speak. It is hardly appropriate
for God to speak in the mountains and grottos and the other places where he is
said to speak, and fail to speak in the human mind, in the reason, in the sovereign
place of the heart. There, when conscience condemns us, convicting us of
unworthy actions that estrange us from God, there, in that same place it is declared,
there it is said to each one of us: You are
not my people. But if we each cleanse and purify ourselves from those
actions, and if the peace of God which is
beyond all understanding begins
to guard our hearts, there, in the depths of hearts now at peace, we shall with
the assent of our conscience be called children of God.
Responsorq
Rom 8:15-16.14
The Spirit you have received is the Spirit of adoption,
which makes
us cry out, Abba, Father. + The Spirit himself and our spirit bear united witness that we
are children of God.
V. All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of
God. + The Spirit ...
St. Origen? - OrthodoxChristianity.net
www.orthodoxchristianity.net › ... › General Forums › Christian News29 Sep 2003 - 12 posts - 7 authorsI am not saying that is the case, because I have not read much of either one, but it could explain why Augustine is a saint and Origen is not.+ + +
Monday 9 September 2013
COMMENT: Birthday of Mary 'All women are a little of My mother.'
Gabrielle, HE AND i
1937
“All women are a little of My mother.”
(Gabrielle, HE AND i)
Sunday 8 September 2013
Maria Valtorta COMMENT: Birth of the Virgin Mary,
Online 'The Poem of the Man-God'.
Maria Valtorta, Extract from Anne's Canticle, and Birth of Mary
4. With a Canticle, Anne Announces that She Is a Mother.
24th August 1944.
4. With a Canticle, Anne Announces that She Is a Mother.
24th August 1944.
I see Joachim and Anne's house once again. Nothing is changed inside, with the exception that there are many branches full of flowers, placed in amphoras here and there, certainly the fruit of the pruning of the trees in the orchard, all in bloom: a cloud varying from snow‑white to the red of certain corals.
Also Anne's work is different. On the smaller of two looms she is weaving some lovely linen cloth and is singing, moving her feet to the rhythm of the song. She is singing and smiling. At whom? At herself, at something she is aware of in her inside.
I have written separately the slow and yet gay song, so that I might follow it, for she repeats it several times as if she rejoices in it. She sings it more and more loudly and with certainty, like someone who found a melody in her heart and at first whispers it softly and then, being sure, proceeds faster and in a higher tone. The slow and yet gay song (which I am transcribing because it is so sweet in its simplicity) says:
« Glory to the
Almighty Lord Who had love for the children of David. [ Glory to the Lord!
His supreme grace has
visited me from Heaven
The old tree has borne a new branch and I am blessed.
At the Feast of Lights hope scattered the seed;
Now the fragrance of Nisan sees it germinating.
Like an almond‑tree my flesh is adorned with flowers in spring.
In the evening she perceives she is bearing her fruit.
On that branch there is a rose, there is a most sweet apple.
There is a bright star, an innocent little child.
There is the joy of the house, of the husband and wife.
Praise be to God, to my Lord, Who had mercy on me.
His light said to me: "A star will come to you."
Glory, glory! Yours shall be the fruit of this tree.
The first and last, holy and pure as a gift of the Lord.
Yours it shall be and may joy and peace come upon the earth.
Fly, shuttle. Fasten the yarn for the infant's cloth.
The infant is about
to be born. May the song of my heart rise to God [ singing hosannas. »
. . . . .
5. Birth of the Virgin Mary.
26th August 1944.
I see Anne coming out of the garden. She is leaning on the arm of a relative, who is like her. She is obviously several months pregnant and she looks tired and her fatigue is not alleviated by the sultriness, just as this present heat is exhausting me.
Although the garden is shady, it is very hot and close. The air can be cut like a soft warm dough, it is so heavy. The sun's rays descend from a merciless blue sky and there is some dust making the atmosphere slightly dull. The weather must have been dry for a long time, because where there is no irrigation, the land is literally reduced to a very fine, almost white dust. Out in the open this shade of white is slightly pink, whereas it is a dark red‑brown under the trees, where the soil is damp. Likewise the ground is moist along the small flower‑beds, where rows of vegetables are growing, and around the rose bushes, the jasmines and other flowers, and particularly in the front of and along the beautiful pergola, which divides the orchard in two, up to the beginning of the fields, now stripped of their crops. The grass of the meadow, which marks the boundary of the property, is parched and thin. Only at its border, where there is a hedge of wild hawthorn, already completely studded with the rubies of its little fruits, is the grass greener and thicker. There are some sheep thereabouts with a young shepherd seeking pasture and shade.
Joachim is working around the rows of vines and olive‑trees. There are two men with him, helping him. Although an elderly man he is quick and works eagerly. They are opening little channels at the end of a field to give water to the dry plants, and this water makes its way gurgling between the grass and the dry land. The flow forms circles that for one moment resemble a yellowish crystal and seconds later are only rings of wet soil, around the overloaded vine branches and the olive‑trees.
Along the shady pergola, under which golden bees are buzzing, greedy for the sugar of the golden grapes, Anne moves slowly towards Joachim, who hastens towards her as soon as he sees her.
« You came so far? »
« The house is as hot as an oven.»
«And you suffer from it. »
« The only suffering of this last hour is that of a pregnant woman. The natural suffering of everybody: man and beast. Don't get too warm, Joachim.»
« The water we have been hoping for, for such a long time, and that for fully three days seemed so close, has not yet come and the country is parched. We are lucky to have a spring so near and so rich in water. I have opened the channels. It is a measure of relief for the plants which have withering leaves and are covered with dust: just enough to keep them alive. If it would only rain...» Joachim, with the eagerness of all farmers, looks at the sky, while Anne, tired, cools herself with a fan that seems to be made of the dry leaf of a palm interwoven with many‑coloured threads keeping it firm.
Anne's companion interrupts: « Over there, beyond the Great Hermon, fast clouds are arising. There is a northern wind. It will refreshen and perhaps bring rain.»
« The breeze has risen for three days and then it sets when the moon rises. It will do the same again.» Joachim is discouraged.
« Let us go back home. Even here one can hardly breathe, and in any case I think it is better to go back...» says Anne, who looks more olive‑hued than usual, owing to a paleness which has come over her face.
« Are you in pain? »
« No. But I can feel the great peace that I experienced in the Temple when I was granted the grace, and which I felt once again when I knew I was pregnant. It is like an ecstasy, a sweet sleep of the body while the soul rejoices and calms itself in a peace that has no bodily parallel. I have loved and still do love you, Joachim, and when I entered your house and I said to myself: "I am the wife of a just man", I had peace: and I felt the same every time your provident love took care of your Anne. But this peace is different. Understand: I think that the soul of our father Jacob was invaded by a similar peace, like the soothing given by oil that spreads and appeases, after he dreamt of the angels. And, possibly more accurately, it is like the joyful peace of the Tobiahs after Raphael appeared to them. If I absorb myself in this feeling, it grows more and more in strength while I enjoy it. It is as if I were ascending into the blue spaces of the sky... And furthermore, I don't know the reason for it, but since I have had this peaceful joy in me, I have a song in my heart: old Tobiah's song. I think it was written for this hour... for this joy... for the land of Israel that receives it... for Jerusalem‑sinner and now forgiven... But do not laugh at the frenzy of a mother... but when I say: "Thank the Lord for your wealth and bless the God of centuries, that He may rebuild His Tabernacle in you", I think that He Who will rebuild the Tabernacle of the true God in Jerusalem will be This One who is about to be born... And I also think that the destiny of my creature was prophesied and not the fate of the Holy City, when the song says: "You shall shine with a bright light: all the peoples of the world will prostrate themselves before you: the nations will come bringing gifts: they will worship the Lord in you and will hold your land as sacred, because within you they invoke the Great Name. You will be happy on account of your children, because they will all be blessed and they will gather near the Lord. Blessed are those who love you and rejoice in your peace..." And I am the first to rejoice, her happy mother...»
Anne changes colour, when saying these words and she lights up like something brought from the paleness of moonlight to the brightness of a great fire and vice versa. Sweet tears, of which she is unaware, run down her cheeks and she smiles in her joy. And in the meantime she moves towards the house, walking between her husband and her relative, who listen and, deeply moved, are silent.
They make haste because clouds driven by a strong wind, rush across and gather in the sky, while the plain darkens and shudders at the warning of a storm. When they reach the threshold of the dwelling, a first livid flash of lightning crosses the sky and the rumble of the first peal of thunder sounds like the roll of a huge drum that mingles with the arpeggio (1) of the first drops on the parched leaves.
They all go in and Anne withdraws, while Joachim, standing at the door, talks with the workers, who have in the meantime joined him: the conversation is about the longed for water which is a blessing for the parched land. But their joy turns into fear because a very violent storm is approaching with lightening and clouds threatening hail. « If the cloud bursts, it will crush the grapes and the olives like a millstone. Poor me! »
Joachim is also anxious for his wife, whose time has come to give birth to her child. His relative reassures him that Anne is not suffering at all. But he is agitated, and every time his relative or any other woman, amongst whom is Alphaeus' mother, comes out of Anne's room and goes back in again with hot water and basins and linens dried near the blazing fireplace in the large kitchen,
(1) Arpeggio: the sounding of notes in rapid succession.
he goes and makes enquiries, but he does not calm down despite their reassurances. Also the lack of cries from Anne worries him. He says: « I am a man and I have never seen a child being born. But I remember hearing that the absence of throes is fatal.»
It is growing dark and the evening is preceded by a furious and very violent storm: it brings torrential rain, wind, lightning, everything, except hail, which has fallen elsewhere.
One of the workers notices the ferocity of the gale: « It looks as if Satan has come out of Gehenna with his demons. Look at those black clouds! You can smell sulphur in the air and you can hear whistling and hisses, and wailing and cursing voices. If it is him, he is furious this evening! »
The other worker laughs and scoffs: « A great prey must have escaped him, or Michael has struck him with a new thunderbolt from God, and he has had his horns and tail clipped and burnt. »
A woman passes by and shouts: «Joachim! It is coming. And it is happening quickly and well!» and she disappears with a small amphora in her hands.
The storm drops suddenly, after one last thunderbolt that is so violent that it throws the three men against the side wall; and in front of the house, in the garden, a black smoky cavity remains as its memory! Meanwhile a cry, one resembling the tiny plea of a little turtle‑dove that for the very first time no longer peeps but cooes, is heard from beyond Anne's door. And at the same time a huge rainbow stretches its semicircle across the sky. It rises, or seems to rise, from the top of Hermon, which kissed by the sun, looks like a most delicate pinkish alabaster: it rises up in the clear September sky and through an atmosphere cleaned of all impurities, it crosses over the hills of Galilee and the plain to the south, and over another mountain, and seems to rest the other end on the distant horizon, where it drops from view behind a chain of high mountains.
« We have never seen anything like this! »
« Look, look! »
« It seems to enclose in a circle the whole of the land of Israel. And look! there is already a star in the sky while the sun has not yet set. What a star! It is shining like a huge diamond!...»
« And the moon, over there, is a full moon, three days early. But look how she is shining! »
The women arrive jubilant with a plump little baby wrapped in plain linens.
It is Mary, the Mother. A very tiny Mary, who could sleep in the arms of a child, a Mary as long, at most, as an arm, with a little head of ivory dyed pale pink. Her tiny carmine lips no longer cry but are set in the instinctive act of sucking: they are so small that one cannot understand how they will be able to take a teat. Her pretty little nose is between two tiny round cheeks, and when they get Her to open Her eyes, by teasing Her, they see two small parts of the sky, two innocent blue points that look but cannot see, between thin fair eyelashes. Also Her hair on Her little round head is a pinkish blond, like the colour of certain honeys which are almost white.
Her ears are two small shells, transparent, perfect. Her tiny hands... what are those two little things groping in the air and ending up in Her mouth? Closed, as they are now, they are two rose buds that split the green of their sepals and show their silk within. When they are open, as now, they are two ivory jewels, made of pink ivory and alabaster with five pale garnets as nails. How will those two tiny hands be able to dry so many tears?
And Her little feet? Where are they? For the time being they are just kicking, hidden in the linens. But now the relative sits down and uncovers Her... Oh, the little feet! They are about four centimetres long. Each sole is a coral shell, with a snow white top veined in blue. Her toes are masterpieces of Lilliputian sculpture: they, too, are crowned with small scales of pale garnet. But where will they find small sandals, when those little feet of a doll will take their first steps, sandals small enough to fit such tiny feet? And how will those little feet be able to go such a long way and bear so much pain under the cross?
But that for the time being is not known, and the onlookers smile and laugh at her kicking, at Her well shaped legs, at Her minute plumpish thighs that form dimples and rings, at Her little tummy, a cup turned upside‑down, at Her tiny perfect chest. Under the skin of Her breast, as soft as fine silk, the movement of Her breathing can be seen and the beating of Her little heart can be heard, if, as Her happy father is doing now, one lays one's lips there for a kiss... This is the most beautiful little heart the world will ever know: the only immaculate heart of a human being.
And Her back? They are now turning Her over and they can see the curve of Her kidneys and then the plump shoulders and the pink nape of Her neck, which is so strong that the little head lifts itself up on the arch of the minute vertebrae. It looks like the little head of a bird that scans the new world that it views. She, the Pure and Chaste One, protests with a little cry at being thus exposed to the eyes of so many, She, Entirely Virgin, the Holy and Immaculate, Whom no man will ever see nude again, protests.
Cover, do cover this bud of a lily which will never be opened on earth and which, still remaining a bud, will bear its Flower, even more beautiful than Herself. Only in Heaven the Lily of the Trine Lord will open all its petals. Because up there, there is no particle of fault that may unwillingly profane its spotlessness. Because up there the Trine God is to be received, in the presence of the whole Empyrean, the Trine God that within a few years, hidden in a faultless heart, will be in Her: Father, Son, Spouse.
Here She is again, in Her linens, in the arms of Her earthly father, whom She resembles. Not at the moment. Now She is just a little human baby. I mean that She will be like him when She has grown into a woman. She has nothing of Her mother. She has Her father's colour of complexion and eyes and certainly also his hair. His hair is now white, but when he was young it was certainly fair, as one can tell from his eyebrows. She has Her father's features, made more perfect and gentle, being a woman, but that special Woman. She has also the smile, the glance, the way of moving and height of Her father. Thinking of Jesus, as I see Him, I find Anne has given her height to her Grandson and her deep ivory colour to His skin. Mary, instead, has not the stateliness of Her mother: a tall and supple palm‑tree, but She has the kindness of Her father.
Also the women are speaking of the storm and the unusual state of the moon, of the presence of the star and the rainbow. Along with Joachim they enter the happy mother's room and give her her baby.
Anne smiles at one of her thoughts: « She is the Star » she says. « Her sign is in Heaven. Mary, arch of peace! Mary, my Star! Mary, pure moon! Mary, our pearl! »
« Are you calling Her Mary? »
« Yes. Mary, star and pearl and light and peace...»
« But it means also bitterness... Are you not afraid of bringing Her misfortune? »
« God is with Her. She belongs to Him before She existed. He will lead Her along His ways and all bitterness will turn into heavenly honey. Now be of Your mummy... for a little longer, before being all of God ...»
And the vision ends on the first sleep of Anne, a mother, and Mary, an infant.
. . . .
Mp3 Audio by Father Vernard Poslusney http://www.advancedchristianity.com/Mp3/Father%20Vernard%20Poslusney%20-%20Individual%20Tracks/01-005%20020-033%20Poslusney%20Birth%20%20of%20Mary.mp3
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Private Revelation
Below are downloadable Mp3 audio files of conferences by Father Vernard Poslusney on the greatest Poem of all, "The Poem of the Man-God" (The Gospel as it was Revealed to Me), by Maria Valtorta
Posted in Chapter order
Other Link:
Mystics of the Church
6. The Purification of Anne and the Offering of Mary.
28th August 1944. . . . .
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He fixes me in his steady, contemplative look
and bids me stand awhile and look back.
I look and I recognise.
I look and I hear;
‘I am here. I am life. I am.’
This is perfect: the picture shows just that direct yet gentle gaze.