Meditation for St. John’s Eve

Meditation for St. John's Eve:

Now, as Vespers sings itself

to dusk’s silent sitting,

the beacons begin to burn.

Men watching for the moment

of Moon’s waning,

in twilight midsummer sky

lit by a Sun too lazy to truly set,

so to kindle flame for the Forerunner;

John.

He whose element is fire.

Both lamps now hanging

in cloth of such deep blue

that the world seems enfolded

in the mantle of one

who midwifed his birth,

even as she joined her magnificat

to old Elizabeth’s pangs,

and doubting Zechariah’s silence,

beneath the shining stars of desert sky.

Now, as Matins touches midnight

of Monks long vigilling,

the herbs are gathered.

Women seeking

the helpers and the healers

in wood, and dell, and garden bed,

where, blessed by dew and moonlight

and the long warmth of Sun’s summer,

the Yarrow and the Bracken,

the Fennel and the Rue,

the Rosemary and the Foxglove,

always the Elder and

the great yellow flower of the Forerunner

willingly give up

their essence on the night

that marks the first whisper

of the Word’s healing breath,

breathed through the one

who is His herald Voice;

John.

Dried, and hung,

and laid upon the Lady Altar

to become more than they are

they will bestow divine healing.

Twice gifted and graced

by Summer’s picking

and Autumn’s

Assumption blessing,

they reveal the medicine

present always, beneath.

Now, as Lauds’ psalms sun skywards

the pots and pans

and ancient drums are beaten.

The children sing the old songs

and the rhymes long lost to meaning,

as young men and women, harelike,

leap heedless across the

dying flames together.

Recalling he who leapt with joy,

filled with fire, even in womb’s waters,

so near was the One who first kindled flame,

rendered the rivers holy and made the wells

vessels of new birth.

Now, as Mass bell tolls dawn’s daily resurrection

monks and men,

and women, and children all

hear the summons of the Sanctifier

and His herald

loud upon morning’s breeze

as embers die down, and herbs are hung up.

Beneath the vaulted stone they gather

to join their voices to praise

that vastness veiled

in simple bread and wine,

and hear again the word first spoken by

the herald,

the lamp,

the flame,

the leaper,

the prophet,

the angel,

the voice,

the Baptist,

whose birth they have

blessed anew,

cry across the ages

“Behold the Lamb of God!”

I wrote this in 2016 to illuminate so many of the customs we have lost that wove the wisdom of the wild and the faith together so beautifully. On St. John's Eve, (The Vigil of the Feast of the Birth of St. John the Baptist), the last official day of the solstice, bonfires were set burning to commemorate the fire of the Baptist's faith and the facing into the waning of natural light after the longest day.

Couples leaping across the fire was an old betrothal custom. This was also the traditional night for gathering the herbs that would be used as medicine for the year to come. Gathered tonight and dried until Assumption Day they would then be blessed in the Monasteries at the first Mass at Our Lady's Altar... The songs and noise making around the boundaries of the hills and the fields was to frighten away evil and stagnancy so as to refresh the fields and prepare for the Harvest... Our faith was and is both holy and holistic and we must return to such deep knowing again... May the Baptist pray for us on this the feast of fire!

A Franciscan Litany for Corpus Christi

 An old one (from 2014) for the day that's in it: 

A Franciscan litany for Corpus Christi : 

The feast of the Body & Blood of the Lord.

Sacrament of the Poverty of God: 

Make us poor from the giving of ourselves

Sacrament of the Emptiness of God: 

Empty us of ourselves that we may be filled

Sacrament of the Littleness of God: 

Make us know our smallness in joy

Sacrament of the Silence of God: 

Invite us to dwell in your silence always

Sacrament of the goodness of God in creation: 

Make us reverent before You in all your creatures.

Sacrament of the mercy of God: 

Make us merciful to all and to ourselves

Sacrament of the invisible God: 

Teach us to seek your presence always

Sacrament of the marriage feast: 

Invite us into the embrace of infinite love

Sacrament of Remembrance: 

Teach us to remember You always

Sacrament of the Humility of God: 

Teach us the way of humility.

Sacrament of the Real Presence: 

Teach us to be really present to our brothers and sisters in their need.

Mary our mother, 

vestment of God, 

and first tabernacle of the Most High,

teach us the way of silent love, 

the deepest contemplation, 

and the opening of the heart 

as a dwelling place for God.

Holy (Mandy) Thursday: the day of the gifts of Presence

 Holy (Maundy) Thursday: The day of the gifts of Presence.

As sister Moon rises this evening the Easter Triduum begins... The three days that are "One Great Day"...one continuous action of Divine Love...

We begin with the day of the gifts: 

Three parting gifts are given by the Lord to His followers today and each of them are usually celebrated in our evening Mass of the Lord's Supper. Each of them is a way of meeting the Lord's real presence and each a sign of love and a transforming grace that when met changes the person and invites them into a deeper communion of Love with God in the other person. While this year our celebrations are constrained and even absent in many places due to the virus we are still, wherever we are, in the presence of Love; the presence of God and in our caring for each other by staying apart in these days, even though it breaks our hearts to do so, we can be sure we are fulfilling the great commandment of love...

What are these gifts we celebrate today?

They are the gift of the Holy Eucharist, the gift of the Sacramental Priesthood and the gift of the New Commandment of Love (Mandatum Novum), from which the day takes its name.

In the Commandment of Love the old law is fulfilled, completed and superseded and the operating philosophy, theology and methodology of the Church is given. Our God is the One who bows low and serves His people; loving them back into wholeness... The example He gives we are to follow. We have no part with Christ if we do not bow low too and find the Divine Presence in each other. In the taking off of the outer garment He removes all that would separate us from Himself, in the wearing of the apron He becomes the servant and the lamb, in the washing of the feet He prepares us for the journey into the depths of Love...

In the Sacramental Priesthood He establishes an eternal conduit of sacrificial grace in which the eternal salvific events about to unfold may be touched in time by each succeeding generation. In the emptying of self that the priest is called to, especially in the sacramental moment, He is present and His people touch His power and love and mercy. His priesthood is a servant, sacrificial priesthood and His priests are called to follow the lamb to the altar and to calvary...

In the Holy Eucharist He gives Love's greatest gift; Love itself remains incarnate and eternal with His people for all time. In this unspeakabale and awe inspiring gift of Divine generosity He demonstrates the sheer immensity of Divine Love and its longing to be with, to be in communion with us... He becomes our food, our medicine, our soul spouse and the furnace in which we are purified and become what we were always meant to be... And he does all this for us who are about to betray, run away and crucify Him... and He does it now today too... in this moment and in every succeeding moment... calling out to us from the priesthood, from the altar, from the Blessed Sacrament, "A new commandment I leave unto you; that you love one another as I have loved you!"

The picture is of the Chapel of the Upper Room in Jerusalem, the ancient site of the Lord’s Supper and the place wherein these gifts were first made manifest by Divine Love.

Meditation for the second Friday of Lent: The Mystery of the Heart

 Meditation for the second Friday of Lent; 

the mystery of the Heart.

On the Fridays of Lent we meditate on the mystery of the Cross of Christ as the revelation of God's Infinite Love and Mercy.

At the center of the Cross we find the heart.

In Christian (and Jewish) spirituality the noetic centre, the centre and totality of all you are as an individual, as a person, the centre of your soul, is referred to as the "heart". 

It is the heart that loves, forgives, wills and contemplates and this centre of life, personhood and love is often identified in the physical body with the heart organ and so the journey of the Spiritual Life was often spoken of as the journey of the mind into the heart there to find the presence of God dwelling at its centre.

At the centre of the Cross we find a heart, but not just any heart, we find the Sacred Heart of Jesus... a human heart yes, a heart that existed in time, that was formed in the womb of His mother and there began to beat, a heart that pumped life's blood and a heart that felt all of the strains of human life until the last breath, the breath upon the Cross, a breath of Love freely surrendered to the Father. A heart that after death was pierced through and poured out on the world the twin streams of blood and water, of mercy and grace. The two streams that to this day pour into the world constantly through the Church. A heart that lay wounded, cold and still in the grave for three days until Easter Dawn... 

Our God has a heart... a human heart that knows our weakness and our pain, even the pain of death.

Our God has a heart... a Sacred Heart filled with infinite Love and Mercy for each of us. 

His risen Heart beats with love for you, is on fire with love for you....

At the centre of the Cross we find the Christ.

At the centre of the Christ we find the heart.

At the centre of our own heart we find His Sacred Heart, 

dwelling within us and holding us in being through Love.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in thee...

Let this be your prayer these Lenten Fridays...

Ordinary Miracles

Ordinary Miracles.


Today I am so tired
I have no space in me for big.
I must return
to the small ordinary miracles;
to the way the cup and the bowl
laid upon this table,
once earth themselves,
now,
after fire's touch,
are something else
entirely,
and give themselves
freely
with the simple symmetry
of their curved line
to the holding of emptiness
or fullness.
Or I will drink tea,
and follow it's warmth and healing touch
within and without,
and mingle my breath
with its vapour and touch
the journey of its essence
from far away lands
to here, to now, to me.
Or spend time simply remembering
that between the covers
of the books upon my shelves
are held
minds, lives, worlds, stories, wisdom
that will all last longer
than this little body of mine.
Or marvel at the striped stones
upon the shore that tell deep time,
layer by layer and recall
wild days of disaster and dancing
in their still sea vigil,
slowly loosing their grains
and building beaches for
children's hands to make sand castles
with until the next tide sets them
swimming again.
Or just knowing that already
I have seen a seed
become a tree
become a log
become a fire
become dust
and
become soil for seed's planting.
Or watch the sky
and know that the blue is
still behind the clouds
and the stars still shine
even in the day.
Or simply sit
with the slow rhythm of breath
knowing its biology as blessing,
its divine anchoring
as presence and prayer.
Today, I am so tired
I have no space in me for big
questions, queries, feelings,
problems, pains, plans,
whether mine or others,
so I will just sit
with the small ordinary miracles of being;
breathing, watching, touching, tasting
the now,
and in the now knowing
the love from which all that is, is.
I will dwell there, today,
in the wonder of it all,
in the wildness of
the small ordinary miracles
of being.

An old one but after a weekend teaching I'm feeling this one today...
May it bless +

BR

Talk for the World Meeting of Families: The Family & Digital Technology: Making Space for Prayer

The Family and Digital Technology: Making Space for Prayer

Talk for the World Meeting of Families 2018: Brother Richard Hendrick

Some years ago I came across a concept which may serve to illustrate beautifully the changed circumstances our families find themselves in as they strive nowadays to be places of love, meaning, communion, prayer and faith. The concept I refer to is that of the “Transparent Home”.

Let me explain.

I am a child of Ireland of the 1970’s and 80’s…

However, in those far off distant days there were two primary arbitrators between me and the world. They were called Mum and Dad. If they didn’t like the behaviour I was engaged in, or the people I was hanging around with they would appear at the door and I would be told, “Richard! In!” and in I went… mumbling and grumbling along the way, but often somewhat relieved as well. Once in the house they continued to be the guardians of reality.

What do I mean by this?

Well, there was one TV in the Living Room. We gathered as a family to watch it. If something unsuitable appeared it was switched off or we were sent out of the room or up to bed. I always found my Father required a cup of tea just as things were really getting interesting on Dallas. There was no remote control. We were the remote control. There was one phone in the house, it was in the hall and later in the kitchen and if we were on it, it was amazing how often Mum would need to drift through the kitchen asking on her way, who it was we were speaking to? There were a few radios of course scattered around but that was it. Reading was actively encouraged and trips to the library and bookshops were common.

You see, the house was opaque to the world, and so it was, thankfully, a safe refuge from which to slowly venture into it, or to return to when things out there were overwhelming or even dangerous. We were gradually introduced to the outside world via Parents, Teachers, Clergy and Elders at a pace that was slow, allowed for self reflection and began locally before stretching out to the world at large.

Now what about today… 

Today, our homes, and indeed our families are transparent. You can call the young person in from the street but now the street, indeed the whole world comes in too via the ubiquitous smart phone, tablet and laptop. The Young Person exists in an always on, always available network of media that demands the same level of availability from them. It allows no time for reflection and encourages the externalisation of self-esteem, which often invites the young person into the living of a reactive rather than a proactive/reflective life that leads in turn to heightened emotionalism and the need to always be on the crest of a wave, seeking the next high, the next “like”.

It is a way of life that is exhausting, anxiety inducing and doomed to futility as we seek the perfect life that others seem to be having out there somewhere. Not for nothing do all of the great spiritual traditions teach that “comparison is the thief of joy”. In this new model the arbitrators of reality are no longer the adults and elders that bestow a wider, deeper, wisdom based narrative based on love, faith, prayer and communion, but are instead the often anonymous forced of so called social media that as we have seen on both a national and international scale are open to manipulation from market forces and perhaps even more decidedly negative ones too.

So what can we do, we who gather here at the call of our Holy Father and the World Meeting of Families to help young people and families in the midst of these sudden and sometimes dangerous changes?

Well, we first need to admit where we are and be present to reality as it is. We cannot go back, nor would we want to. We are well aware that the bucolic force of nostalgia only serves to isolate us further from the world. God is in the Now and so we must be too. We must praise and promote the positive changes that have occurred! Greater social connectivity and the possibilities for evangelisation and outreach inherent in new forms of media must be strengthened and become a ripe field for the harvest of the Gospel. But skills so as to manage these new ways of being must be taught and I propose that like the Scribes of the Kingdom, who bring forth things both new and old, our own Christian Contemplative Tradition has wonderful tools that can assist the young person and the family in their navigation of this changed world. The practices of Stillness, Silence, Reflection, Meditative forms of prayer that are at the heart of our tradition must be taught and above all lived again in the home and in the heart of the family. 

Thankfully such programmes that teach these practices exist and are part of our Church life today. Groups such as the World Community of Christian Meditation, Contemplative Outreach and the Sanctuary Centre in Dublin all offer courses aimed at introducing these ancient skills in new ways to the people of today. We need to recognise the importance of these practices as life-saving, indeed soul-saving tools that will allow us to negotiate the transparent homes and lives we are all living today so that at our centre we are still enough to hear the quiet breeze of the Spirit inviting us into this world as sons and daughters of the Kingdom, so as to create in the digital desert spaces of today oases of the spirit where the real presence of God may be found by those lost in the often overloading storms of life, both real and virtual today.

To finish I’d like to offer you three simple practices that can revolutionise our way of interacting with each other online:

The first is what has become known as the “3P method”. The three P’s are Pause, Pray and only then Post! They offer us a way of being present online in a reflective rather than reactive way. Something catches us online and we immediately feel we need to comment, to make our opinion known, to teach the other a lesson! All of these responses may simply be our ego igniting and may not be spiritually healthy for us or to those we are responding to. So take the fingers off the keys, pause and breathe; pray for the grace of the Holy Spirit to be present in your words and then see if you need to post. It is amazing how often when one has practiced the first two P’s the need to carry through to Post disappears. The three P’s: Pause, Pray, and only then Post!

The second is all about our use of time and intention. How do you wake up? Most people, and especially most young people will tell you that the first thing they do when they awake is to reach for the phone. Barely awake they are catapaulted into the virtual world and all the bad news present there. They are taken away from the present moment and taken away from the presence of those who are with them, and even from the awareness of the presence of God. So practice 2 is a simple consecration of the first moments of the day to being present to God, to those you live with and to yourself. It is the ancient practice of the Morning Offering made new for today.

Try it! You’ll be amazed at the positive difference it makes to you and to others around you. As one old friar used to say its going from your first thought being, “Good God it’s morning!” to “Good morning God!”

The third practice and the final one I will leave you with today is the practice of the bells! All monastic traditions have used bells to mark the passing of the day and as a call to awareness, mindfulness and attentiveness to the Divine Presence. Well you have a device that summons you with multiple bells throughout the day always with you; your phone! Why not set and hourly, (or more), reminder to take a moment to breathe, pray and become present to the real world around you, to the needs of your brothers and sisters, to the beauty of creation, to God. No one else need know what’s going on… they’ll just think you’re very popular with all the texts you’re getting!

So there we are, three small, gentle practices that have deep roots in our own Contemplative Tradition that can really help us negotiate the opportunities and challenges of new technology and ways of communicating that we enjoy today so that we do not lose ourselves in the process. Our homes and even our monasteries may have transparent walls these days but with the wisdom of the ancient practices we can grow in reflective discernment and begin to truly choose just who and what we want to be transparent to.

Thank you for your attention today!

Assumption Eve Medicine

 

 

Assumption Eve Medicine

 

For two months turning

the old women,

they who have the knowing,

have watched their charges carefully.

Picked at the height of their power

on the short night, after the long day;

the feast of fire,

that vigils the Baptist’s coming,

when lads and ladies leap

like hares over flames

and look with longing for love,

as children sing the old songs

filled with mystic meaning;

that night they were gathered

as grace and gift

beneath the light of sister Moon,

the Lady’s lamp and plucked

from garden and from forest glade,

by woman’s hands alone.

Now, they, the herbs for healing,

hang in blessed bunches

over the hearth of home,

or kept in kitchens

above the range,

or bound in byres

where the warming breath

of the queen kine keeps them

charmed and waiting

to release their medicine,

the healing pulse

of sister Mother Earth

and Brother Sun’s distilled light

mixed, and married, and greened,

in root, and shoot,

and leaf, and flower.

So they, the healing herbs,

have rested until tonight

when as dusk comes on

and begins to breathe her

autumnal quickening,

these wise ones take them down

and bring them now

to the old places of prayer

to the abbeys and chapels,

to the candled shrines

of the sainted ones,

who themselves bore

the fruit of blessing

and were heaven’s healing,

the salve of souls,

upon the earth.

There they find

the Lady’s chapel,

and lay their leafy burdens

beneath the linen cloths

upon the Altar, there to await

Assumption’s dawn,

and as the Mass bells ring

to have the holy words

said over them that render

them thrice blessed again,

and ready to release their

gentle healing gifts,

blessed once in very being

from first beginning’s breathing,

blessed twice in the burning

touch of Love’s own resurrection light

when all was made anew,

blessed thrice by the Lady’s prayers,

she who is the stock from which

all healing blooms,

and in her gathering home raised all

that grows green upon this good earth

to become heaven’s healing help again;

Eden’s elixir restored in her

and birthed anew as grace,

just as these sainted herbs

ground upon the mortar’s stone

will give their essence up,

and become the holy way

by which their medicine

blesses bodies and anoints

our souls to ready us

in our own time,

for Heaven’s

homing.

Vigil of the Assumption 14th August 2018.

In many places it was the ancient custom for women to gather herbs around the feast of St. John the Baptist (Midsummer) and then bring them to the Churches for blessing on the feast of the Assumption before they were made into medicine for the Winter ahead. The herbs were placed beneath the Altar Cloths and around the Sanctuary before the dawn Mass there to be offered to the Lord, through Mary’s hands, she who is the “first fruits” of His saving love, so as to receive her special prayers of healing and be blessed in their medicinal use in the year ahead.

The Ritual of the Church still provides for such blessings should they be requested.

 

(Pics in this post found as random uncredited images on the web)

 

 

Donegal Dance

Donegal Dance

After what had seemed a very long day

of talking, and visiting, and listening

to the secret woes of, oh, so many,

we had arrived at the last,

to the old farm on an ancient hill,

above a half forgotten valley,

that seemed to dwell in its own time,

to travel its own long seasoned path.

A few thorn trees broke the wind

before the whitewashed walls.

A cow watched us deliberately

conferring with the few scraggly chickens

about these strange visitors; a welcome distraction,

perhaps.

They greeted us at the door then, the old couple.

Dressed in Sunday best, they stood as much to attention

as their work bent spines allowed.

Smiling with heavy, creased, but still bright eyes.

We knew then the far away neighbours had warned them

we were near; two friars travelling from house to house.

the annual days of the parish mission come again.

They beckoned us in to two soft chairs

drawn up beside the fire, there we settled into cushions

shaped by long quiet night’s sitting for them, not us,

as they sat on hard, straight, kitchen chairs

pulled from dark corners.

Then we talked, as you do, always

observing the ancient Irish liturgy of visiting:

The Weather?

“All right for now, but sure it will change.”

Health?

“Good days and bad days, neither of us as young as we were.”

The Children?

“Well, they are busy, they can’t make it here as often as they would like.”

The land?

“Enough for us, but we will be the last to farm it,

there’s no love for it in the young ones.

It’s a hard life, but a good one.”

We listened while scanning all the while this

place caught out of time, yet redolent of deeper, quieter life.

 “You’ll stay for the tea Fathers?”

The old farmer said suddenly

It was, on reflection,

more statement than question.

For his wife was already on her feet

and heading for the kitchen.

To this day I am glad we said yes

for the miracle that came of it then

and was ours alone to witness in the holiness of home.

Though at the time the glance between us brothers

told of a different mutual desire for return and rest.

“It was ever such”, the Brother reminded me, later when we left,

speaking only after we had passed a while of silent awe at what we had witnessed there,

“God’s revelations are never expected,

Moses was not looking for a burning bush that desert day.

The Shepherds did not expect Angels overhead that night.”

“He is the God of surprises after all.”

Perhaps the Farmer did not want or need to continue chatting then,

the old man rose and joined his wife in the small scrubbed kitchen,

while we stretched our sandaled feet before the fire

and stared across the hearth to where

the door half open let us watch the dance begin,

as these two souls, long made one,

in daily sacrament of living, prepared the liturgy of tea.

Without a word and each always aware of their partner’s presence

revolved around each other as stars and planets do

in orbits long settled since the foundation of being,

so they spun and weaved, the one always in right relation to the other,

passing by at just the right moment to receive from outstretched hand

the bread, the butter, the jam, the cheese,

each always, and without asking, just where the other needed them to be,

as their silent waltz produced a table set and ready for us all

to gather, seen and unseen, together.

We sat breathless and blessed just watching,

knowing we were witnesses of a secret communion

made all the more sacred for its being born of ordinary duty.

Danced daily for long years in that place,

Danced in a Spring surrounded by chattering Children

Danced in a Winter filled with worries and woes,

Danced in love and long and lazy Summer nights

Danced now in the Autumn of long burnished gold,

Danced under the stars of Heaven

Danced with the powers of Heaven

Danced with the Divine Dancer

who is the space and music both,

between all souls who dance the daily dance of love.

Once, at the end of a long day,

through a half open door, in an old cottage,

on a half-remembered hilltop in Donegal.

I sat in silence and witnessed the cosmic dance

of love incarnate take place

in an old but well scrubbed kitchen

where brown bread was broken

and we ate beneath

the glowing lamp

of the Sacred Heart.

(Pic not mine, found on Pinterest)

Portiuncula: For the Feast of St. Mary of the Angels

Portiuncula

All quiet he came, barefoot,
and brown as the leaves that
fell at his feet like blessings.
A wanderer in the woods;
this day, he had woken weary
and in his sitting stillness
felt the call to journey
further into wonder.
He had followed the bird songs
and slanted sun beams as signs,
listening with love to the lay
that seemed always to sing out
from every stone and leaf,
from every bird and beast,
calling him along the way,
until at last, and suddenly,
he stepped into that clearing
and saw so bright
in sudden Sun's appearing
the grey green mossy walls,
the tumbled stone,
the ruined chapel,
long forgotten by all
but Angels and Animals,
who often find in our withdrawal
a safer sanctuary
to keep their innocent vigil,
and psalm together in a harmony
our sin discordant voices can
no longer sing.
He stood there a moment,
as still as one who sees beyond
and knows himself a servant
of the flame that burns the bush
but consumes it not;
slowly understanding his draw to this place
within the deeper call, echoing resounding
once more in soul's song:
to rebuild the ruins,
firm the foundations,
and raise the roof of grace.
Kneeling now, he gently bows
and touches his forehead to the ground,
the holy cross is graven once again
upon his heart, and then he reaches
for a stone, long fallen from its place,
and kissing it with reverence for the gift
of the Mother it makes of itself,
he places it upon another,
and begins again to build the church of God.
That night, as lady Moon
crowned the new set stones with silver,
he lit the long dark lamps
before the face of one his heart
called Queen and Mother both,
and realised with joy
to whom this holy place belonged.
Standing he sings alone his nightly songs:
psalms, and hymns, and lovers lauds
to the Lady of his soul and then he sleeps,
this troubadour in his tumbledown temple.
Until in deepest dark he wakes with wonder
to find a new light all about him,
fairer than moonlight, gentler than stars,
emerging from these old sacred stones,
as all around the gathered sit
in serried rank, birds and beasts alike,
all watching for their
Lady's smile upon her lately sleeping servant.
Now roused he hears the heralds of heaven
sing their own music, alike to his
but deeper, greater, older, sweeter,
lifting his troubadour tunes
into the great song of heaven's hearing.
Lost in love and light he listens,
caught up in creation's hymn,
whose crowning Queen he knows
here now in her sanctuary by sight,
and sits where he,
her knight errant of the road,
had lately slept his labours off.
The music, never silenced, fades, a little,
and beckoning him to her side
she whispers words of such blessing
he cannot believe;
to his care this place is given,
his little portion it will be,
and to his brothers yet to come
also a reminder, an anchor
a place of refuge and renewal,
of beginning blessing,
and the promise of an ending
in the embrace of she who gathers
these poor scared sparrows
neath her mother's mantle
to gift them to her Son.
Then reaching forth,
the Lady touched his tired eyes,
and seeing now with heaven's gaze,
the ages fall about him
telling the tale of all the Friars who follow;
the Sisters too, will have here their birth beginning,
until an even greater forest grows
about this blessed place, planted in peace
and bearing joy as fruit,
born from the seed of Gospeled faith,
sheltering with blessed branch all beings
who seek the shade of pardon and long for peace.
He weeps then, this rebuilder of blessing,
long and loud is his lament,
his mourning for the early days misspent,
 declaring his deeds, he seeks
her departure from one so stained,
yet she, the Lady, smiles all the more,
lifts him up, calls him son,
as much her building
as the stony walls about them both.
Then with a swell of Angel song she leaves,
or at least is seen no more,
and the little brother
does the only thing he can,
as, with makeshift trowel in hand,
and weeping still,
he picks up another stone
from off the floor.

Today is the feast of Our Lady of the Angels of the Portiuncula, a foundational feast for all Franciscans throughout the world. It was at the little forest chapel, rebuilt with his own hands, that Francis founded the Order, dedicating it to Our Lady of the Angels, there he received the vows of the brothers and of St. Clare, spent much time in meditation and finally breathed out his soul to God... The little chapel remains the heart place of the Franciscan soul and is a place of blessing to this day.

The "pardon of Assisi" the plenary indulgence granted to St. Francis to honour this feast and title of Our Lady may be obtained by visiting any public church until midnight tonight, praying the Creed and the Our Father for the intentions of the Pope and receiving Sacramental Confession and Holy Communion within 7 days before or after the feast.

Some practical advice from our elder brothers on Meditation

Over the years of being taught the ways of meditative prayer by our brothers many of them have shared a word of advice or teaching along the way… a few of them are recorded below, may they help you in your practice as they have helped me over the years.

1.)    Be regular in your practice; so far as is possible practice at the same time and in the same place each day. You are a creature of habit. Let abiding in a state of prayer become habitual.

2.)    At the start meditate for twenty minutes, twice a day. If this is too much begin with ten minutes. Better ten with attention than twenty with struggle.

3.)    Begin with a formal gesture of invocation and intention.

4.)    Call on the heavenly helpers to assist you in your prayer. Your Guardian Angel, patron saints, holy ancestors and above all the Blessed Virgin want to assist you in your prayer, but they await your invitation.

5.)    End with a moment of thanksgiving.

6.)    Still yourself by noticing your senses and your breath. They are the gateways to the present moment.

7.)    Use a short phrase or word to anchor yourself in the moment of prayer. The “prayer word” both unites us to God and gives the conceptual brain something to attend to until the thoughts quieten.

8.)    The prayer word or phrase should be in a language other than the one you speak daily as this will prevent associative ideas from arising and getting in the way.

9.)    Attend to physical needs first, or you will just spend your time thinking about your needs.

10.)                        Do not eat just before meditation. Your body is limited in its energy, eating before hand draws necessary energy for the meditation to digestion instead.

11.)                        Sit relaxed but straight, let your breath be open and gentle without altering the rhythm in any way. As you become still it will slow and deepen by itself.

12.)                        Surrender all thoughts, images, sensations, concepts as they arise. Simply notice them but do not grasp them. Remain instead in simple attention attuned towards meeting the Divine Presence in this moment, in this breath.

13.)                        Do not force anything.

14.)                        Do not expect anything.

15.)                        Try and meditate early in the morning as the sun rises and in the evening as it sets. In this way you will be united with the natural rhythm of the cosmos and its Divine order.

16.)                        You are just sitting, to sit. You are not owed anything. Anything you receive is a grace. Your job is just to show up, attend and be open.

17.)                        The distractions are part of the process. With each return from the distraction your faculty of attention will become stronger and your ability to maintain a centred awareness of the Divine Presence will grow.

18.)                        Remember God is already present within you and around you. You are simply tuning into His presence.

19.)                        There is nothing you can do to make God more present. There is much you can do to become more present to God.

20.)                        Rest. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.

21.)                        In the end this is not your work. You are being worked upon and within. You must simply turn up, abide past the distractions and attend to Love’s gaze.

22.)                        Just close your eyes and get out of God’s way.