This is one of those Dynamic Catholic books, promoted by Matthew Kelly. Beautiful Mercy.
It was perfect for me. I have little patience and prefer to read a couple of pages for meditation, than an entire book. Beautiful Mercy has short chapters. The book is divided into the Spiritual Works of Mercy and the Corporal Works of Mercy. The chapters are written by different people, most of whom I recognize.
My favorite story was "Hopeful Mercy" by Mother Olga Yaqob. She was a teen in Iraq, when war broke out. She was thrown into violence, hatred, bloodshed and death. She had to perform the corporal works of mercy, in particular, "bury the dead." All around her, she saw death and no one to care for their bodies. Relatives were dead, too. One man in particular, had been dead long enough to be full of insects. She carted him to the convent to be washed and prepared for burial. But no one wanted to touch him because of his smell. Strangely, she didn't smell anything. If anything, he smelled of incense. So, she prepared his body.
A couple more incidences were when she definitely, felt the presence of Mary with her. Her stories are powerful.
The other articles are good, too. Think of the chapters as meditative presents. Opening each one was a pleasure.
Remember when I used to write short stories about my fictional cat, name Fido, well he disappeared, as cats often do. But they have nine lives you know. He's shown up in my rendition of Pangur Ban.
Since the invention of the internet, there is a plethora of cat videos. People just love their cats. From Egyptian statues and paintings to today's cat videos, cats are shown to be much loved.
In fact, it is not uncommon, that when I am on a zoom meeting, a cat will meander in view of the camera's view. There are also medieval manuscripts with ornate letters, beautiful colored script, yet faint paw prints running across the page. This is what must have happened to a monk in the 8th century, who had a cat named Pangur Ban. This monk was doing his work, and he was distracted by the work his cat was doing. Upon reflection, the monk realized that both he and Pangur Ban, were plying similar trades. In his poem Pangur Ban, the monk compares the cat's concentrated skill to his own focused composition.
The following poem is a translation of the 8th century Old Irish poem, Pangur Ban, by the Irish poet, Seamus Heaney. There is no way on earth that I could match Seamus Heaney in verse, never mind my cat, Fido, to Pangur Ban. Fido is not a mouser. He plays with the mice he catches. Hubby rescues the poor mouse and brings it outside, to be released. Where upon the mouse finds a way to come back in, I'm sure. It's a version of the game "cat and mouse," but now it's "cat and mouse and human." Anyways, so be it.
Pangur Ban translated by Seamus Heaney
Pangur Ban and I at work,
Adepts, equals, cat and clerk:
His whole instinct is to hunt,
Mine to free the meaning pent.
More than loud acclaim, I love
Books, silence, thought, my alcove.
Happy for me, Pangur Ban
Child-plays round some mouse's den.
Truth to tell, just being here,
Housed alone, housed together,
Adds up to its own reward:
Concentration, stealthy art.
Next thing an unwary mouse
Bares his flank: Pangur pounces.
Next thing lines that held and held
Meaning back begin to yield.
All the while, his round bright eye
Fixes on the wall, while I
Focus my less piercing gaze
On the challenge of the page.
With his unsheathed perfect nails
Pangur springs, exults and kills.
When the longed-for; difficult
Answers come, I too exult.
So it goes. To each his own.
No vying. No vexation.
Taking pleasure, taking pains,
Kindred spirits, veterans.
Day and night, soft purr, soft pad,
Pangur Ban has learned his trade.
Day and night, my own hard work
Solves the cruxes, makes a mark.
Now, here is my poem, mimicking Pangur Ban.
Fido and I at work,
Not equal, cat and clerk.
His whole instinct to hunt,
My words, alas, only to punt.
More than loud acclaim I love
Yet across my desk I shove.
Happy for me, Fido's a cat
Content to play with this and that.
Truth to tell, just being here,
Housed together companionship dear,
Adds up to its own reward-
Fido's rhythmic purrings heard.
Next thing I take the laser pointer,
His eyes open, my brave hunter.
Next thing my lines held
But my words blur and then meld.
All the while, her slitty green eye
Fixes on the laser light, while I
Adjust my glasses and gaze
At the messiness upon my page.
With her sharp, perfect claws,
Fido springs, swipes with empty paws.
When the longed-for, proves difficult,
I laugh, I enjoy, I loudly exult!
So it goes. To each his own.
Love and fun and pleasure shown.
Taking a break refreshes the mood,
Kindred spirits, words are food.
Day and night, I stroke soft fur.
Fido rewards with contented purr.
Day and night, my own muse is chased.
Fido hopes some day to catch, not just chase.
Anyone who has ever had a cat can relate, which is why the original, found in 724, in a monastery of Benedictine monks, is still read and enjoyed. It is written in Old Irish and found in a book containing other poems written in Old Irish, and Old German, some Latin hymns, astronomical tables, and Greek declensions. And thirteen hundred years later, Pangur Ban is still copied and enjoyed. For example, a cat named Pangur Ban appeared in the 2009 animated movie, The Secret ofKells. As in the poem, the movie has Pangur Ban as a white cat belonging to a monk. There is also a chidren's book The White Cat and the Monk, by Jo Ellen Bogart and sydney Smith. In 2018, Eddie Reader released a song titled Pangur Ban and the Primrose Lass. Finally, I'm closing with the song Pangur Ban and the Primrose Lass by Eddie Reader. song https://youtu.be/S9uFoUhpo28?si=aI5O0S-qoEAm_nbS
Daniel Burke, from EWTN, tells the story of his stepfather's dying. The stepfather was in hospice and people came to say goodbye. This including, some pushy Christian neighbors who were always proselytizing. Dan's stepfather was Jewish.
These Christians came to share the gospel with him, before he died. At first, they were being escorted out, but the sick man waved them in. They stayed awhile.
Afterwards, Dan asked his stepdad, why he allowed the neighbors to come in. "They are friends and neighbors. They have loved us. What they do is done out of love."
Both, the stepfather and the Christian neighbors are acting out of love.
We are all made in the image of God. As such, we all deserve to be treated with dignity, especially in death. In fact, one of the corporal works of mercy is to bury the dead.
With that in mind, what do you think of all the news vultures circling the pope's hospital bed? I think it's disgusting. But it's all for naught, because when the pope does die, as we all will, it won't be announced from a hospital bed. There's a procedure.
Remember, the pope is the Bishop of Rome, so the people in his parish and diocese will learn that he has died, first. Then the diplomatic corps, who will then distribute the news, appropriately. This will be a formal announcement from the papal chapel.
Ever since I saw the movie Conclave, I've been interested in the pope's death and the following procedures. I love watching rituals.
A martyr is someone who dies for the faith. They're killed because of their religion. I'm reading a little book, Blessed Charles de Foucauld: A Grain of Wheat. Blessed Charles de Foucauld died in the first World War, 1916. He was killed not for religious reasons, at all. During an attack by rebels, de Foucauld let himself be taken, was tied up, robbed, and killed. His body lies in El Golea.
In a meditation of John 19:30, Bl. Charles wrote:
My Lord Jesus you are dead. You died for us? If we really believe this, we ought to want to die, to die a martyr's death; to accept suffering in death instead of being afraid! It won't matter for what motive we are killed if we ourselves receive thatunjust and cruel death as a blessed gift from you, if we thank you for it as a gentle grace, as a blessed imitation of your end... The motive for killing us won't matter, if we will die out of pure love and our death will be a sacrifice pleasing to you. If this is not martyrdom in the strict sense of the word, and in the eyes of the world, it will be in your eyes. It will be a very perfect image of your death and a loving end which will lead us straight to heaven.
What do you think? "If we receive the death as a gift from God."
