God of Mercy and Compassion

Et pourtant il la désire, Il la veut depuis toujours, Depuis toujours elle attire Son regard brûlant d'amour.

I must tell you, dear reader, how very much more beautiful the French version of this hymn is.

My favourite Hymn - and how apt it is now Lent.

My darling dearest Jesus, for you:

Jésus-Christ monte qu Calvaire,
Il y va pour y mourir.
Suivons-Le, c'est notre frère,
Qui pour nous, voulut souffrir.
En mourant, Il nous délivre
Du fardeau de nos péchés,
Et celui qui veut le suivre,
Sous la Croix devra marcher.

Chez Pilate, on le compare
Au dernier des scélérats.
Que dis-tu, peuple barbare?
Tu réclames Barabbas!
Quelle indigne préférence;
Le coupable est pardonné
Et malgé son innocence,
Jésus-Christ est condammé.

Mais voici que l'on présente
Une croix au doux sauveur,
Sur sa chair encor sanglante,
Elle ajoute à ses douleurs.
Et pourtant il la désire,
Il la veut depuis toujours,
Depuis toujours elle attire
Son regard brûlant d'amour.

O Jésus, vos mains calleuses,
Ont manié bien d'autres bois.
Vos épaules laborieuses
Ont plié sous d'autres poids.
Il est donc bien redoutable
Ce fardeau, mon doux Jésus,
Puisque ce poids vous accable
Et que vous n'en pouvez plus.

Au chemin de la souffrance
Pour l'aider, Marie est là;
Elle veut par sa présence
Soutenir ses derniers pas.
O Vierge, en notre faiblesse,
Nous avons besoin de vous,
Puisque nous tombons sans cesse
Demeurez tout près de nous.

Quand Simon, l'un de mes frères
Est choisi pour te porter;
O Croix, tu parais légère,
Qui voudrait se dérober?
Pour la tâche, ô divin maître,
S'il vous faut des ouvriers,
Me voilà, de tout mon être,
Je suis prêt à vous aider.

Tous vos traits, par la souffrance
Sont creusés de durs sillons;
Nos péchés et nos offenses
Sont gravés sur votre front.
Souvent, on déforme encore
Votre image autour de nous;
Au monde qui vous ignore
Nous saurons parler de vous.

Votre pied heurte la pierre:
Vous tombez sur le chemin;
Votre sang dans la poussière
La marque d'un sceau divin.
O Jésus, je vous adore
Étendu sous votre Croix;
Prosterné, je vous implore,
Moi qui tombe tant de fois.

<< Vous pleurez sur mes souffrances,
Pleurez donc sur vos péchés.
Puisque c'est pour vos offenses
Que mon sang sera versé
Suivez-moi vers le calvaire
Avec moi, sachez offrir
Vos souffrances pour vos frères:
Après moi, il faut souffrir. >>

A quoi bon tant de souffrance,
A quoi bon verser son sang,
Quand Il voit la foule immense
De pécheurs impénitents.
Et pourtant, Il se relève,
Prend la Croix à pleines mains,
Il poursuit et Il achève
Jusqu'au bout le dur chemin.

On dépouille votre taille,
Et plus rien pour vous couvrir.
Né jadis nu sur la paille,
Vous voici, nu, pour mourir.
Enseignez à tous vos frères
L'amour de la pauvreté;
Que les biens de cette terre
Sont toujours à mépriser.

A grands coups, le marteau frappe
Dans la chair, rivant les clous;
Comme une divine grappe
Que l'on presse sous les coups.
De ses mains, le sang s'écoule,
De ses mains qui, si souvent.
Ont béni d'immenses foules
Et guéri tant de souffrants.

Voici donc l'instant suprême,
Qu'il attend depuis toujours
De prouver à ceux qu'il aime,
Jusqu'où va son grand amour.
Embrassant la terre entière,
Ses deux bras sont étendus;
Il appelle tous ses frères
Et Il meurt pour leur salut.

En vos bras, quand on vous livre
Votre Fils inanimé,
Vous lisez comme en un livre
Sur son corps tous nos péchés.
Dites-nous, ô tendre Mère,
Tout ce que vous avez vu;
Gravez en nos cœurs de pierre
Les blessures de Jésus.

L'ennemi de votre gloire
Peut sourire, il est vanqueur
Et pourtant votre victoire
Est certaine, ô mon sauveur.
Malgrè la nuit de la tombe,
Le linceul sur votre Corps,
Aujourd'hui l'enfer succombre
Vous avez vaincu la mort.

http://romaaeterna.jp/piex/piexp152.html

St Claude de la Columbiere, confessor of St Margaret Mary Alocoque

ACT of CONFIDENCE

By Saint Claude de la Columbiere

My God, I am so intimately convinced that Thou dost watch over all those that hope in Thee, and that we can want for nothing while we expect all from Thee, that I am resolved to live without anxiety in the future, casting all my care on Thee. "In peace I will sleep and I will rest for Thou hast wonderfully established me in hope." (Ps IV, 9,10) 

Men may turn against me: sickness may take away my strength, and the means of serving Thee; I may even lose Thy grace by sin, but I will never lose my hope. I will keep it even to the last moment of my life, and all the demons in hell shall try in vain to tear it from me. In peace I will sleep and I will rest.

Others may look for happiness from their riches or their talents; they may rely upon the innocence of their lives, the rigour of their penance, the number of their good works, or the fervour of their prayers; but for me, O Lord, my confidence shall be my confidence itself. For Thou hast wonderfully established me in hope.

This confidence has never decieved anyone. No one hath hoped in the Lord and been put to shame. I am sure that I shall be eternally happy, because I hope firmly to be so, and it is from Thee, O Lord, that I hope it. In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped; I shall not be confounded forever.

I know that I am frail and changeable; I know the power of temptation against the most firmly based virtues: I have seen the stars of heaven and the pillars of the firmament fall; but not even this can make me fear. As long as I hope, I am safe from every evil, and I am sure of always hoping because I hope for this unchanging hope. For Thou, O Lord, hast wonderfully established me in hope.

In fine, I am sure that I cannot hope too much in Thee; and that I cannot obtain less than I hope for from Thee. Thus I hope that Thou wilt uphold me (and my family) in the greatest dangers, protect me (and my family) in the most violent assaults, and make my weakness triumph over my most formidable enemies. I hope that Thou wilt love me always, and that I also shall love Thee with unfailing love; and to carry my hope at once as far as it can go, I hope for Thee from Thyself, my Creator, both in time and eternity. Amen.

The True Friend Prayer 
by Saint Claude de la Colombiere

Jesus, Thou art the only and the true friend.

Thou knowest my difficulties. Thou takest them upon Thyself. Thou knowest how to transform them for my good. Thou hearest me with goodness when I speak of my afflictions and never dost Thou fail to lighten them.

I find Thee always and everywhere; Thou dost never leave me and, if I am obliged to move, I never fail to find Thee where I go.

Thou dost not tire of listening to me; Thou dost never cease to do me good. I am assured of being loved if I love Thee. Thou dost not need my goods, and Thou dost not become poorer in giving me Thine own.

However wretched I may be, someone more noble, more intelligent, even holier will not steal from me Thy friendship. Death, which tears us away from all our other friends, will serve only to reunite me to Thee. All the disfrace of age, or fortune cannot detach Thee from me. On the contrary, I will never enjoy Thee more fully, Thou wilt never be closer than when everything will seem to fail me.

Thou sufferest my imperfections with admirable patience, even my infidelities. My ingratitude does not hurt Thee, so much so that Thou art always willing to come back, if I desire it.

O Jesus, grant that I may desire it, so that I be all Thine, in time and eternity!

Some thoughts, this beautiful, really beautiful period of Lent courtesy of St Therese, my patron

Prayer Card: The Little Flower of the Divine Prisoner

The night which transformed St.Therese’s life as a teenager was also resulting from this “fusion” of His Eucharistic Love with her love.  At mid-night Mass on Christmas of 1886 “‘the strong and powerful God’ of the creche whom she had just received in communion clothed her with strength forever.”  (Descouvemont and Loose.)  Moreover it was a prayer card of Jesus, the Divine Prisoner in the tabernacle, that inspired Therese to be His Little flower of love.  Painted on the card, which was given to Therese by her sister Pauline, was a little flower growing towards Jesus in the tabernacle.  It was on its stem that Pauline wrote her name.  Wishing to emulate this, St. Therese wrote, 

“The little flower of the Divine Prisoner told me so many things that I was immersed in them.  Seeing Pauline’s name written at the bottom of the little flower, I wished Therese’s name could be there too and so I offered myself to Jesus to be His little flower.”  

From the Story of a Soul, by St Therese herself: 

"The Little Flower of the Divine Prisoner" suggested so many thoughts that I would remain gazing at it in a kind of ecstasy. I offered myself to Our Lord to be His Little Flower, I longed to console Him, to draw as near as possible to the Tabernacle, to be looked on, cared for, and gathered by Him.

As Descouvemont and Loose explain, “Jesus remains alone behind the door, like a prisoner in his cell: no one comes to visit him.  The bars in the picture irresistibly brought to the minds of the child the grill of the Carmel behind which Pauline would make herself prisoner and hide herself definitively.  On May 8th, in fact, in the chapter room of the monastery or rue de Livarot, Sister Agnes would make her religious profession.  Therese hoped to join her there as soon as possible so that she too might offer the flower of her love to the ‘Divine Prisoner of the Tabernacle.’

Full text of "The Little Flower of the Divine Prisoner":

St. Thérèse of Lisieux’s Favorite Childhood Poem

Between two cold prison bars, there grew a humble plant That charmed away the weariness of a poor prisoner;

It was the only happiness of his suffering soul,

The only pastime of his sorrowful home!...

Beneath the gloomy walls of his dismal dwelling place, His hand had planted it ... he watered it with tears!... And as a reward for his care, he saw the poor little thing Give him unceasingly its perfumes and its flowers....

Oh! My divine Master, in the depths of the tabernacle, For 1800 years a prisoner out of love,

Despite our coldness, through a constant miracle, Near us You have fixed Your dwelling place;

And there, more abandoned, even more alone

Than the poor prisoner whose neglected state I pity,

Your tenderness implores, yea, begs for the hearts

Of Your perverse children, those ingrates who refuse You this gift....

Alas! Since they never cease to flee obstinately from You, Since they leave You all alone, O God of my heart!

Out of pity, lower Your eyes to look on my lowliness—

I will be, my JESUS, Your little flower....

Hear the unceasing prayer of my soul:

It is You who are inspiring it, Lord; grant my request.

Oh! Tell me how, humble flower that I am, in order to please You,

My soul, placed in Your hands, will forget itself, expecting nothing in return.

Jesus:

So! It is into FAITH ... it is into UNDISGUISED FAITH ...

That My hand would plant that little flower,

Who, living for ME ALONE ... unknown and unrecognized by mortals, Would have no other Sun than a glance from My heart.

For this tender flower, I would like as Root,

That hope in Me that never weakens;

Infinite hope in My divine Goodness ...

Abandonment of a child who knows that it is cherished....

For its Stem, it would need, without desire and without fear, A tranquil, a joyful, a prompt acquiescence

To the slightest call of My holy will ...

Without hesitation, without any reasoning.

It would delight me if, taking for its Leaves

Complete disregard for the esteem and consideration of others, It knew how to veil, to the eye that beholds it,

The gifts that it has received from My divine hands.

I would want it to have as its Flower a constant joy,

That could be troubled neither by setbacks ... nor sorrow ... That even racked by suffering and bitterness,

Would still know how to delight in my joy.

Finally, its Fruit would be that virtue that is so pure

That it sees GOD ALONE ... here below, as in heaven ... That no longer has regard for any created thing,

That seeks in ME alone the end and goal of its desires....

In this way, achieving the expectation of my plans, It will have been made worthy of the sweetest favor; And into My sacred heart, grafting my humble plant By uniting it to MYSELF, I will make its true joy.

Translation copyright © 2006 by Robert J. Edmonson, CJ. All rights reserved.

Fresco painted by St. Therese around the tabernacle of the Carmel in Lisieux

     O!  saint autel qu’environment les Anges!

Qu’avec transport aujourd’hui je te vois!

Ici, mon Dieu, l’objet de mes louanges

M’offre son Corps pour la premier fois…

[O holy altar where the angels are hovering!

With what transport I see you today!

Here, my God, the object of my praises

Offers himself to me for the first time].

Thanksgiving

Il est à moi, Celui que le ciel même

Que l’universe ne saurait contenir;

Il est à moi, je l’embrasse, je l’aime.

Rien ici-bas ne peut nous désunir…

[He is in me, the One whom even heaven,

Even the universe cannot contain;

He is in me; I embrace Him; I love Him;

Nothing here below can separate us].* 

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Anne, Therese, I love You; Save Souls!

Jesu mitis et humilis corde, Fac cor nostrum secundum Cor tuum. (ter)

Deus propitius esto mihi peccatori.

Sancte Filumena (Philomena), ora pro nobis

Blessed Nellie of Holy God!

Little Nellie of Holy God

Little Nellie of Holy God

“There! That is the sign for which I was waiting.” -Pope St. Pius X after hearing about the holy life of little Nellie. A few months later in 1910 he issued “Quam Singulari” which significantly lowered the age of Holy Communion for children.

Little Nellie Organ lived to be only four and one-half years old, and yet for very good reason she is known as “The Little Violet of the Blessed Sacrament.” The remarkable story of her short yet holy life begins with her birth on August 24, 1903. Her father, William Organ and her mother Mary Aherne Organ were married on July 4, 1896 and their marriage was soon blessed with four children: Thomas, David, Mary and, lastly, Nellie. Because unemployment was very high at that time in Ireland, her father William Organ had to choose between emigration and enlistment as a soldier. He chose the latter and in October, 1897, he joined the British Army then in occupation in Ireland, in a garrison in the maritime town of Waterford.

Little Nellie was born in the "married quarters" of the Royal Infantry Barracks in Waterford, Ireland. Soon afterward she was brought to the parish Church of the Trinity where she was Baptized with the name of "Ellen," though she would be familiarly called "Nellie." It was just three weeks after Pius X was elected Pope. Nellie’s father, William, with his family, were transferred to the barracks on Spike Island in Cork Harbor and Nellie’s mother died there. William decided that he could not care for the children and the two girls were given to the care of the Good Shepherd Sisters at St. Finbarr’s Industrial School in Sunday’s Well, Cork and the two boys were sent to another location. Nellie spent only one year in Sunday’s Well before she died due to illness. She had whooping cough when she arrived and it was also discovered that she had a spinal injury which was later found out to have been caused when the family’s child-minder dropped her as a baby. She also had tuberculosis and caries, a rotting disease of the gums and jaws.

Nellie is famous for her outstanding love of Jesus in the Eucharist. A Jesuit, Fr Bury was giving a retreat in the convent and visited Nellie’s bedside each day. He realized that Nellie, although only four years of age, had reached the age of reason. Fr Bury asked her, ‘What is Holy Communion?’ She answered, ‘It is Holy God’ Fr Bury asked her what would happen when she would be allowed to receive Holy Communion. She answered, ‘Jesus will rest on my tongue and then he will do down into my heart’ One could scarcely find a more beautiful description for receiving Jesus in Holy Communion. One night when the Mother Superior was wishing Nellie good night Nellie asked her if she would bring Holy God up to her in the morning. Mother Francis said she would come to see her after Mass which Nellie misunderstood as meaning that she would bring her Holy Communion. When Mother Francis came without Holy Communion Nellie was devastated. Then Nellie asked people to come to her bedside for a moment after receiving Jesus in Holy Communion and then they could return to the chapel to finish their thanksgiving. That was the closest she could get to receiving Jesus in Holy Communion. During the retreat Fr Bury realized that Nellie, although only four years and three months, met all the criteria necessary to receive Holy Communion. And at that time children had to wait until the age of twelve to receive Jesus in Holy Communion. Fr Bury heard her confession and contacted the bishop of Cork for permission to give her Holy Communion. The bishop agreed. She was dressed in white and taken down to the convent chapel for her first Holy Communion. This is what Mother Francis said of Nellie receiving Holy Communion,

At the moment of her First Communion, which she received in a transport of love, Nellie’s features shone as if the presence of the great light in her heart reflected itself in her face. Yes, those who saw Nellie then are well convinced that the child’s appearance was not at all ordinary. This phenomenon was seen more particularly at her other Communions because, after the first, she was taken almost immediately out of the chapel and there were only a chosen few who had the happiness to witness the transformation which took place. Then Nellie had not only a countenance more recollected, an attitude more pious than she customarily had, but an extraordinary radiance.

It is said that Nellie’s thanksgiving for receiving Holy Communion would continue until late in the afternoon. From the day of her First Holy Communion the odor from Nellie’s mouth caused by the rotting of her gums and jaws ceased. Less than two months after receiving her First Holy Communion Nellie died on Sunday 2nd February 1908 ages 4 years, 5 months and 8 days and was buried in St Joseph’s Cemetery in Cork. Eighteen months after her death permission was granted to have Nellie’s remains transferred to the Good Shepherd Convent Cemetery and upon opening her grave her body was found to be incorrupt. Her body was fresh with no sign of the wasting disease she had at her death.

"May God enrich with every blessing Father Prevost and all who recommend frequent Communion to young boys and girls, proposing Nellie as their model"

-Pope Pius X

June 4, 1912

http://www.mysticsofthechurch.com/2011/03/nellie-organ-little-nellie-of-holy-god.html

http://www.abandonedireland.com/mc_nellie.html

http://knocknovena.com/littlenellie.htm

http://www.frtommylane.com/homilies/year_b/20-2.htm