Our Lady's Little Scribe seeks to use the internet for the Catholic faith and Our Lady of the Pearl, Secular Franciscan Fraternity, Pearlington, Mississippi, going from Gospel to life and life to the Gospel.

The silk painting, shown above, is by Ty Mam Duw, Poor Clare Colettines, Hawarden, WALES GB. Their website is here. Ty Mam Duw is Welsh and means The House of the Mother of God. Our Lady of the Pearl cherishes their friendship and is grateful for their many kindnesses and prayers. The image is used with permission.

For an explanation of the meaning and symbolism of this painting, go here, "This is My Beloved Son," on their website.

Entertaining Angels

Entertaining Angels
You are welcome to join in with your thoughts and spiritual inspirations and to share information. To write, click the word "comments" found after each post.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

John Michael Talbot

Sunday, June 29, 2008

From the Beginning

From the beginning, and before the world,
was I created, and unto the world to come I shall not cease to be,
and in the holy dwelling place I have ministered before him.
Sirach 24:9

Sunday, June 22, 2008

St. Thomas More

St. Thomas More
click link for audio

Psalms 122 - A song of ascents. Of David.

I rejoiced when I heard them say: "Let us go to God's house." And now our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem.

Jerusalem is built as a city strongly compact. It is there that the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord.

For Israel's law it is, there to praise the Lord's name. There were set the thrones of judgment of the house of David.

For the peace of Jerusalem pray: "Peace be to your homes! May peace reign in your walls, in your palaces, peace!"

For love of my brethren and friends I say, "Peace upon you!" For the love of the house of the Lord, I will ask for your good.


* * * * * * *


1. We have just heard and enjoyed as a prayer one of the most beautiful and fervent songs of ascents. It is Psalm 122[121], a living, shared celebration of Jerusalem, the Holy City to which the pilgrims climb.

Indeed, in the opening line, two moments lived by the faithful are amalgamated: that of the day on which the pilgrim rejoiced when he accepted the invitation to "go to God's house" (v. 1), and that of his joyful arrival at the "gates" of Jerusalem (cf. v. 2); now at last he is walking on that beloved Holy Land. A festive hymn is on his lips at that very moment in honour of Zion, whose deep spiritual significance he contemplates.

2. As a "strongly compact" city (v. 3), a symbol of security and stability, Jerusalem is the heart of the unity of the 12 tribes of Israel that converge towards it as the centre of their faith and worship. They go up there, in fact, "to praise the Lord's name" (v. 4) in the place that "Israel's law" (Dt 12: 13-14; 16: 16) has chosen as the only legitimate and perfect shrine.

There is another important reality in Jerusalem that is also a sign of God's presence in Israel: "the thrones... of the House of David" (cf. v. 5); that is, the Davidic dynasty governs, an expression of the divine action in history that was to lead to the Messiah (II Sam 7: 8-16).

3. The "thrones... of the House of David" are at the same time called "thrones of judgment" (v. 5), because the king was also the supreme judge. Thus, Jerusalem, a political capital, was also the highest tribunal where controversies were settled in the final instance: in this way, when Jewish pilgrims left Zion, they returned to their villages feeling more righteous and peaceful.

The Psalm thus traced an ideal portrait of the Holy City with her religious and social function, showing that biblical religion is neither abstract nor intimistic, but a leaven of justice and solidarity. Communion with God is necessarily followed by the communion of brothers and sisters with one another.

4. We now come to the final invocation (cf. v. 6-9). It is marked throughout by the Jewish word shalom, "peace", traditionally considered to be the etymological root of Jerushalajim, the Holy City itself, interpreted as "city of peace".

It is well known that shalom alludes to the messianic peace that in itself brings joy, prosperity, goodness and abundance. Indeed, in the pilgrim's final farewell to the temple, to the "house of the Lord our God", he adds "good" to "peace": "I will ask for your good" (v. 9). This anticipates the Franciscan greeting: "Peace and good!". We all have something of a Franciscan soul. This greeting expresses the hope that blessings will be poured out upon the faithful who love the Holy City, upon the physical reality of its walls and buildings in which the life of a people pulsates, on all its brothers and sisters and friends. In this way, Jerusalem will become a hearth of harmony and peace. . . .


QUOTED FROM:
BENEDICT XVI
GENERAL AUDIENCE

Wednesday, 12 October 2005

Friday, June 20, 2008

Tim Russert Memorial Service

Tim Russert Memorial Service

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Evening Prayer Before Sleep

O Lord, our God, in Thy goodness and love for men forgive me all the sins I have committed today in word, deed or thought. Grant me peaceful and undisturbed sleep. Send Thy Guardian Angel to guard and protect me from all evil. For Thou art the guardian of our souls and bodies, and to Thee we ascribe glory, to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer of St. Macarius the Great
to God the Father

O Eternal God and King of all creation, Who hast granted me to arrive at this hour, forgive me the sins that I have committed today in thought, word and deed, and cleanse, O Lord, my humble soul from all defilement of flesh and spirit. And grant me, O Lord, to pass the sleep of this night in peace, that when I rise from my bed I may please Thy most holy Name all the days of my life and conquer my flesh and the fleshless foes that war with me. And deliver me, O Lord, from vain and frivolous thoughts, and from evil desires which defile me. For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Morning Prayer - The Prayer of the Optina Elders


Grant to me, my Lord, that with peace of mind I may face all that this new day is to bring. Grant me grace to surrender myself completely to Your holy will. For every hour of this day instruct and prepare me in all things. Whatsoever tidings I may receive during the day, do You teach me to accept tranquilly, in the firm conviction that all eventualities fulfill Your holy will. Govern my thoughts and feelings in all I do and say. When things unforeseen occur, let me not forget that all comes down from You. Teach me to behave sincerely and reasonably toward every member of my family, that I may bring confusion and sorrow to none. Bestow on me, my Lord, strength to endure the fatigue of the day and to bear my part in all its passing events. Guide my will and teach me to pray, to believe, to hope, to suffer, to forgive and to love. Amen

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Late Have I Loved You

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.


from The Confessions of Saint Augustine

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Song of the Mystic

I walk down the Valley of Silence --
Down the dim, voiceless valley -- alone!
And I hear not the fall of a footstep
Around me, save God's and my own;
And the hush of my heart is as holy
As hovers where angels have flown!


Long ago was I weary of voices
Whose music my heart could not win;
Long ago was I weary of noises
That fretted my soul with their din;
Long ago was I weary of places
Where I met but the human -- and sin.


I walked in the world with the worldly;
I craved what the world never gave;
And I said: "In the world each Ideal,
That shines like a star on life's wave,
Is wrecked on the shores of the Real.
And sleeps like a dream in a grave."


And still did I pine for the Perfect,
And still found the False with the True.
I sought 'mid the Human for Heaven,
But caught a mere glimpse of its Blue:
And I wept when the clouds of the Mortal
Veiled even that glimpse from my view.


And I toiled on, heart-tired, of the Human,
And I moaned 'mid the mazes of men,
Till I knelt, long ago, at an altar
And I heard a voice call me. Since then
I walk down the Valley of Silence
That lies far beyond mortal ken.


Do you ask what I found in the Valley?
'Tis my Trysting Place with the Divine.
And I fell at the feet of the Holy,
And above me a voice said: "Be mine."
And there arose from the depths of my spirit.
An echo -- "My heart shall be Thine."


Do you ask how I live in the Valley?
I weep -- and I dream -- and I pray.
But my tears are as sweet as the dewdrops
That fall on the roses in May;
And my prayer, like a perfume from censers,
Ascendeth to God night and day.


In the hush of the Valley of Silence
I dream all the songs that I sing;
And the music floats down the dim Valley,
Till each finds a word for a wing,
That to hearts, like the Dove of the Deluge,
A message of Peace they may bring.


But far on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach;
And I have heard songs in the Silence
That never shall float into speech;
And I have had dreams in the Valley
Too lofty for language to reach.


And I have seen Thoughts in the Valley --
Ah! me, how my spirit was stirred!
And they wear holy veils on their faces,
Their footsteps can scarcely be heard;
They pass through the Valley like virgins,
Too pure for the touch of a word!


Do you ask me the place of the Valley,
Ye hearts that are harrowed by Care?
It lieth afar between mountains,
And God and His angels are there:
And one is the dark mount of Sorrow,
And one the bright mountain of Prayer.


(Father Abram Ryan, "Priest-Poet of the South,
born 15 August, 1839; died 22 April, 1886)