Our Lady of Hope Prayer Group

Ester bakes a birthday cake for Don

Whenever people upset me, I always find solace in my prayer group, Our Lady of Hope Prayer Group.  I can't take too much negativity.  The people in the prayer group are joyful.  They love their faith with optimistic faithfulness.  They are just happy and confident.

When I can't take any more criticism, when my feelings are bruised, when I'm frustrated, I drag myself into Our Lady of Hope and find myself showered in healthy, strong prayer.  I am literally lifted up. None of us have much theology, but we know our faith.  We defend and love it.  We invite others to experience Jesus and the Church.  We live the Gospel.

It's home.  It's safe.  We are one family that prays for our parish.  I pray everyone has such  joyful, and caring support.  We thank God for the blessing of each other.

An Artist's Prayer

The Crucified Christ by Fra Angelico circa 1395-1455

While perusing my news feed on Facebook, I came across a post by a brother Lay Dominican, Robert Curtis.  (My brother, by a different mother, but still my brother.)  He posted a poem he found in National Review, December 2014.  It's about another brother.  (See above parenthetical explanation.)  The poem is about Fra Angelico.  Fra Angelico was born Guido di Pietro. When he entered the Order of Preachers (Dominicans) he was given the religious name Brother John of Fiesole.  He was an artist.  He painted like an angel, hence the nickname Fra Angelico.  His painting was his prayer to God.  His work preached the Word.

Angelico’s Crucifixion
By Lee Oser

Tempura and gold on wood, circa 1445
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Fifth Avenue

Here is faith’s erotic life.
Prayer’s unfallen touch, whose brushstrokes hold
Strange virtues even now to halt
And hush our steps beneath the Cross of Love:

Magdelen staggers at the foot,
Her hair and dress a flame, her back to us; 
In rapt obedience in her mantle’s
Quiet blue, Mary seems small for her fate;

By hours the painter would have prayed
Like Dominic, as if his knees were stone, 
Low as the earth His blood does stain,
Adoring heaven’s patience without pride;

Knowing that truth becomes a book,
Augustine reads, his mother simply sees; 
The Lord’s beloved disciple sways
As one whose heart for joy or sorrow broke;

Francis, Thomas, Elizabeth
Perfect the number of this hallowed guild,
Who light a place where loss is gold,
So bent by love we hesitate to breathe---

Or else might feel perversely pressed
To scatter those proud saints like little birds
And batter down those brutal boards
And glide away with head bowed like a priest.

·         Found in National Review, December 2014.

Personal Faith v. Show

I don't know.  I don't know.  There's a man in my prayer group that makes me feel guilty because I don't wear a huge crucifix around my neck, like he does.  I wear a Dominican scapular, under my blouse.  If I'm performing a liturgical duty, e.i., lectoring, or teaching, I wear a Dominican cross on the outside of my clothing.

My friend makes me feel guilty that I'm not wearing some obvious outward sign of my faith.  But I'm not comfortable doing that.  I think of my own feelings when I see someone coming towards me wearing a cross bigger than the pope's.  I'd cross the street.  I don't want to debate him or even talk to him.  I don't think God wants us to call attention to our faith.  He doesn't want us to wear our faith on our sleeve.

Although my friend tells me about all the people that applaud his proudly displaying his faith, I always think, "How many did you chase away?"  But I suppose, there's different strokes for different folks.  Some attracted by his obvious faith and I think some our attracted by my personal witness of my quiet faith.

Then why do I feel guilty?

A Sign

What more to people want!  Jesus just fed the crowd with 5 loaves and fishes and they ask Him for a sign John 6: 30.

I guess it takes eyes of faith to see a miracle.

How many go to Mass and don't see the miracle right in front of them?  No wonder they don't see how many accidents they just missed.  How many times their child could have been harmed?  How many times they finally understood their loved one's need?

Revelation and redemption are one occurrence and we have it in the sacrament of the Eucharist.

Divine and Human Mercy

So I open my Liturgy of the Hours book to find, "A Sermon by Saint Caesarius of Arles," on Divine and Human Mercy.  How's that for a Godincidence!  (See yesterday's post on a Year of Mercy.)

Bishop Caesarius asks "How can a man ask for himself what he refuses to give to another?  If he expects to receive any mercy in heaven, he should give mercy on earth.  Do we all desire to receive mercy?  Let us make mercy our patroness now, and she will free us in the world to come.  Yes, there is mercy in heaven, but the road to it is paved by our merciful acts on earth.   ...Show mercy, then, while you are on earth, and mercy will be shown to you in heaven."

I link mercy to kindness.  I will try to be kinder.  The trick is how my "cloistered brothers" are to show mercy in an environment that views mercy as weakness, and weak is not what is safe nor smart to be.  They will need God's grace.  Please pray for my "cloistered brothers."

A Year of Mercy

Father Nic and my "cloistered brothers" brainstormed after Mass, today.  We are planning a year of mercy.  Some thoughts:

Make a prayer card and we all pray everyday.  Make it like a holy card, i.e., a picture on one side and the prayer on the other.
Have a monthly calendar with the names of each chapter member on each day.  Everyone pray for that person on that day.
Bring in speakers to talk on mercy, e.i., Catherine of Siena, Fr. Lataste, St. Augustine.
Make Lenten reflections and send it out to all in the Bethany family.
Have a penance service.
Read Pope Francis' Bull of Indiction of the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy.
Have a Chapter of Faults

This will begin on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception 2015 and end on the Feast of Corpus Christi 2016.

Personally, I'm going to work on the tone of my speech.  I'm not a priest in a confessional and able to pronounce the words of mercy to a sinner.  But I do have the power of mercy in my kind actions and speech.  Also, I have prayer by which I can save souls by securing grace for their conversion.  Hopefully, I can help some turn from sin and turn to God.  Pray for me.

Praying for the Dead

What good does it do to pray for the dead?

We pray for the dead because the Christian knows that the life we live in is not our permanent home. We were made for better things.  We were made to live with God.  Besides, as a Catholic I believe in the  communion of saints.  That means we pray for our dear departed ones, and they will pray for us.  I like to think of it as having intercessors.  In fact St. Dominic told his friars,  “Do not weep, my children; I shall be more useful to you where I am now going, than I have ever been in this life.”

Jesus says the same thing.  “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be” (John 14:2–3).

So the dead aren't dead.  They're more alive than we are now.  We keep in touch with them and they with us with our mutual prayers--communion of saints.  Additionally, praying for the dead, helps us grieve for losing our dear ones.  Praying is offering love.  Praying for the dead benefits ourselves.  It helps us feel that we are doing something.  And so we are.  We are offering prayers for the dead and therein aiding in our own grieving process.  That's the communion of saints.  And that's another reason I'm glad I'm Catholic.  The respectful, loving understanding of death is such a comfort when we lose someone dear.