Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland."
Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
Do not look to Church officials to lead you. Many of them are devils. It was revealed to Sister Lucia of the Fatima apparition that: “Satan rules even in the highest positions and determines the direction of things. He will succeed in worming his way even into the highest summits of the Church…But this will be a time of great trials for the Church. Cardinals will oppose cardinals. Bishops will oppose bishops. Satan will walk in their ranks. In Rome, there will be great changes. What is rotten will fall and what will fall will never rise again. Darkness will envelope the Church and the world will be thrown into a panic.”
This quote was taken from a German periodical published in 1963 entitled Neues Europa, and received unofficial approbation in the 1960’s by several Church officials who had read the original Third Secret which was hand written by Sister Lucia. Among those who read the original was the respected Cardinal Ottovani. The new and “official” version put out by the Vatican in 2006 has been demonstrated to be a fabrication.
Consecrate yourself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Make your home an ark. The Chastisement, which has been delayed through much prayer and reparation, fast approaches. This as our culture disintegrates.
Pray, hope and don't worry.
Showing posts with label Blessed Sacrament. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blessed Sacrament. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 02, 2019
Thursday, September 20, 2018
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament...
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland."
Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
Do not look to Church officials to lead you. Many of them are devils. It was revealed to Sister Lucia of the Fatima apparition that: “Satan rules even in the highest positions and determines the direction of things. He will succeed in worming his way even into the highest summits of the Church…But this will be a time of great trials for the Church. Cardinals will oppose cardinals. Bishops will oppose bishops. Satan will walk in their ranks. In Rome, there will be great changes. What is rotten will fall and what will fall will never rise again. Darkness will envelope the Church and the world will be thrown into a panic.”
This quote was taken from a German periodical published in 1963 entitled Neues Europa, and received unofficial approbation in the 1960’s by several Church officials who had read the original Third Secret which was hand written by Sister Lucia. Among those who read the original was the respected Cardinal Ottovani. The new and “official” version put out by the Vatican in 2006 has been demonstrated to be a fabrication.
Consecrate yourself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Make your home an ark. The Chastisement, which has been delayed through much prayer and reparation, fast approaches. This as our culture disintegrates.
Pray, hope and don't worry.
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland."
Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
Do not look to Church officials to lead you. Many of them are devils. It was revealed to Sister Lucia of the Fatima apparition that: “Satan rules even in the highest positions and determines the direction of things. He will succeed in worming his way even into the highest summits of the Church…But this will be a time of great trials for the Church. Cardinals will oppose cardinals. Bishops will oppose bishops. Satan will walk in their ranks. In Rome, there will be great changes. What is rotten will fall and what will fall will never rise again. Darkness will envelope the Church and the world will be thrown into a panic.”
This quote was taken from a German periodical published in 1963 entitled Neues Europa, and received unofficial approbation in the 1960’s by several Church officials who had read the original Third Secret which was hand written by Sister Lucia. Among those who read the original was the respected Cardinal Ottovani. The new and “official” version put out by the Vatican in 2006 has been demonstrated to be a fabrication.
Consecrate yourself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Make your home an ark. The Chastisement, which has been delayed through much prayer and reparation, fast approaches. This as our culture disintegrates.
Pray, hope and don't worry.
Saturday, September 03, 2016
Francis: A more sophisticated form of atheism...
As Francis leads so many souls to pantheism and a New humanitarian religion, it would help to reflect upon the words of Father Livio Fanzaga, known as the "radio priest" in Italy, in his book "Wrath of God: The Days of the Antichrist": "Atheism is the religion of the future. At its root, atheism is always a negation of God and every such negation presupposes His affirmation. Rather than saying 'God does not exist,' a more sophisticated form of atheism will assert that 'Man is God, humanity is God, God is immanent in human history and in the lives of individuals.' This is a form of religion which has assimilated the characteristics of a true religion. Adore man and satisfy the religious needs present in every human heart. Do not renounce the Kingdom of God, construct it, instead, on earth. Just as the Catholic religion tries to unite all men under a supernatural principle represented in the person of the Vicar of Christ, so too, humanitarianism strives to unite all men and to conciliate all religions. It seeks to institute universal peace by recognizing the supreme unifying authority of the Antichrist - perfect image of the immanent god in the world, the man-god. God did not become man. The man-God is the savior of the world...Benson [Robert Hugh Benson] had greater foresight [than Feurbach and Marx]. At the turn of the century he clearly perceived that the crisis of faith will not be followed by the growth of atheism but by the rise of a new religion which deifies man...The new religion will have its own ministers of cult, its own rites and ceremonies, and its own books to celebrate those rites. Churches and abbeys will be transformed into temples of the new religion of humanitarianism and the Mass will be displaced by the celebration of the new rites. The statue of Christ will disappear and in its place the statue of 'man' will be raised up in the form of 'Apollo,' symbol of corporeal beauty and virility....While churches in which Christ is still adored and Our Lady honored will be empty, those of the new religion will be filled to capacity...Man will go to church to worship himself. He will incense the altar of his own 'virility' and the statue of 'maternity' and 'continuous life.' The crisis of faith is the crisis of the supernatural. Man no longer believes in a God whom he cannot measure or control and who is different from him." (pp. 119-120).
Is there any real doubt that this new humanitarian religion is now rising? The way of the new religion of the man-God is being prepared by agnostics, atheists, apostates, lovers of this world who have embraced hedonism and materialism and who have nothing but contempt for the true Church, her ministers, sacraments, devotions [especially those to Our Lady] and the lowly faithful who have consecrated themselves to the Immaculata.
As Catholics, we pray - in the Nicene Creed - "We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in Being with the Father. Through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven.."
All orthodox Christians believe that Jesus is the only Son of God and that, "There is no salvation in anyone else, for there is no other name in the whole world given to men by which we are to be saved." (Acts 4: 12).
But the world is being prepared to believe differently. Many are now willing to abandon the only Son of God for the new religion which will proclaim the divinity of man. President Obama, while speaking to a group of Christian clergy several years ago at the Easter Prayer Breakfast, referred to Jesus not as the "only Son of God" but as "a son of God." And he received applause from his audience.
What is this but the spirit of Antichrist? In 1 John 4: 2-3, we read, "This is how you can recognize God's Spirit: every spirit that acknowledges Jesus Christ come in the flesh belongs to God, while every spirit that fails to acknowledge him does not belong to God. Such is the spirit of the antichrist which, as you have heard, is to come; in fact, it is in the world already."
Recommended reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 441-445.
And so, let us offer an act of reparation as the world is prepared to worship the devil in the flesh:
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland." Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
Is there any real doubt that this new humanitarian religion is now rising? The way of the new religion of the man-God is being prepared by agnostics, atheists, apostates, lovers of this world who have embraced hedonism and materialism and who have nothing but contempt for the true Church, her ministers, sacraments, devotions [especially those to Our Lady] and the lowly faithful who have consecrated themselves to the Immaculata.
As Catholics, we pray - in the Nicene Creed - "We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in Being with the Father. Through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven.."
All orthodox Christians believe that Jesus is the only Son of God and that, "There is no salvation in anyone else, for there is no other name in the whole world given to men by which we are to be saved." (Acts 4: 12).
But the world is being prepared to believe differently. Many are now willing to abandon the only Son of God for the new religion which will proclaim the divinity of man. President Obama, while speaking to a group of Christian clergy several years ago at the Easter Prayer Breakfast, referred to Jesus not as the "only Son of God" but as "a son of God." And he received applause from his audience.
What is this but the spirit of Antichrist? In 1 John 4: 2-3, we read, "This is how you can recognize God's Spirit: every spirit that acknowledges Jesus Christ come in the flesh belongs to God, while every spirit that fails to acknowledge him does not belong to God. Such is the spirit of the antichrist which, as you have heard, is to come; in fact, it is in the world already."
Recommended reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 441-445.
And so, let us offer an act of reparation as the world is prepared to worship the devil in the flesh:
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland." Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
Act of Reparation to the Blessed Sacrament
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland." Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
"Our hearts are restless O Lord, until they rest in Thee." - Saint Augustine
In these last days, it is more important than ever to be consecrated to the Immaculata. Here's why. By clicking on the title of this post, you will be taken to a website dedicated toward promoting St. Louis de Montfort's total consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. This website is run by my good friend Ray Mooney, a true disciple of Our Lady.
Ad Jesus per Mariam - To Jesus through Mary.
By St. Louis de Montfort
"Soupirons, gemissons, pleurons amerement"
Let me cry, let me weep bitter tears to God above,
For Jesus is abandoned in his Sacrament of love;
Forgotten and insulted in the dwelling of the Lord,
Derided and rejected where once he was adored.
The mansions of the nobles are all clean and set with care,
Yet the house of God's forgotten, its altars standing bare;
The floor is all broken, the roof lets in the rain,
The crumbling walls are marked with holes and every kind of stain.
The crucifix is broken, the pictures green with damp,
The altar cloths are rotting, no light burns in the lamp,
The missals torn and battered, the brasswork stained with rust,
The things of God are thrown about and scattered in the dust.
The ciborium is tarnished, the chalice turning black,
The monstrance, which is made of tin, is mouldy at the back;
From font right up to sacristy the picture is the same,
Such disorder in the house of God is our reproach and shame.
The pagans in their temples dare not spit upon the floor,
But in our church a crowd of dogs run in and out the door;
They bark and fight continually and fill the place with slime,
But no one cares enough of this to avenge the dreadful crime.
There is just one exception in all this sorry scene:
My Lord and Lady's special pew is always neat and clean;
And standing out in bright new paint upon the dingy wall
Their gaily-colored coat-of-arms looks down upon it all.
Above the Lord's own altar, instead of the Lord's own name,
The banners of his Lordship, a place of honor claim;
Both priest and mule are flaunting the badges of their thrall,
The former at the altar, the latter in his stall.
The houses of the nobles are so crowded and gay,
And fashionable young ladies are courted night and day;
But the Church of God's deserted, unless they condescend
To go to church for one short Mass they think will never end.
Behold the worldly cleric coming in with haughty face
How his lady friends admire him as he bows with courtly grace!
He bobs a genuflection, then seeks whom he should greet;
He strolls about and chatters as though walking in the street
Still worse, he has a snuff-box, which he opens with a jest,
And delicately takes a pinch, then passes around the rest
Puffed up with self-importance and with his graceful ways,
He squirms about and poses, making faces as he prays
Alas, it's often happened, the way to church he's trod
To pay reverence to Venus, to a goddess not to God;
Every thought and aspiration, every word and loving glance
Are but homage to a creature, a prayer to find romance
Behold upon the other side a sorry scene is played,
A shameless hussy sitting in all her fine brocade;
In her dainty little slippers and head-dress trimmed with lace,
Come simply to parade herself within the holy place
This empty-headed madam, with an impudence unknown,
Up to the very altar ostentatiously is shown,
And poses on a bench in front, so to be seen by all,
To captivate the eyes of men and hold their hearts in thrall
To think this devil's agent, while her knee to Jesus bends,
Must rob him of his glory and lead astray his friends!
The splendor of her finery the thought of Jesus harms,
Forgotten is the altar in the presence of her charms.
And if the time seems tedious, she always has her fan,
Her dog and gloves, to pass the time, and often her young man;
She'll read a bit, and roll her eyes, and fix her hat with care,
Then look around the chapel to see who's watching her
O strike them, God almighty, strike this ungrateful lot!
At least let them respect thee, if they will love thee not
Too long hast thou been patient; thy justice let them see;
Let fear replace that insolence with which they now mock thee
Thy glory has been ravished, dishonored is thy name,
Such sinners against thy majesty must bow their heads in shame
And yet restrain thy anger, at least a while I pray;
The greatness of their wickedness with greater good repay
Forgive them, dearest Jesus, for they know not what they do;
Remember thy great Passion, and have mercy on us too
And if we are unable to atone for all our guilt,
Accept our feeble homage, and treat us as thou wilt
We confess before thy altar that we are sinners still;
Thou canst punish us or spare us according to thy will
But remember thy great mercy and the tears that we have shed,
And hear our cries for pardon, for our hearts are full of dread.
Our Eucharistic Lord waits for you. He waits alone in an empty Church. Outside the world and all its noise appears attractive. But this world and everything in it is passing away. It is, as C.S. Lewis said, a "shadowland." Approach the Light. Pray before the Eucharist and be filled. For your heart will never be filled until you give it totally to Him Who has created and redeemed you.
In these last days, it is more important than ever to be consecrated to the Immaculata. Here's why. By clicking on the title of this post, you will be taken to a website dedicated toward promoting St. Louis de Montfort's total consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. This website is run by my good friend Ray Mooney, a true disciple of Our Lady.
Ad Jesus per Mariam - To Jesus through Mary.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
"The time I have spent before the tabernacle is the best spent time of my life."
"Jesus is in our tabernacles, and this fact we call the Real Presence. The same Jesus Who was sheltered by Mary Immaculate within Her virginal body, is in the little body of a white Host. The same Jesus Who was whipped, crowned with thorns, and crucified as a Victim for the sins of the world, remains in the ciborium in the Host as a Victim sacrificed for our salvation. The same Jesus Who rose from the dead and ascended into Heaven, where He now is gloriously reigning at the right hand of the Father, resides on our altars, surrounded by a multitude of countless adoring Angels — a sight that Blessed Angela of Foligno beheld in a vision.
Thus Jesus is truly with us. 'Jesus is there!' — The holy Curé of Ars could not finish repeating these three words without shedding tears. And St. Peter Julian Eymard exclaimed with joyful fervor, 'There Jesus is! Therefore all of us should go visit Him!' And when St. Teresa of Jesus heard someone say, 'If only I had lived at the time of Jesus ... If only I had seen Jesus ... If only I had talked with Jesus ...,' she responded in her spirited way, 'But do we not have in the Eucharist the living, true and real Jesus present before us? Why look for more?'
The Saints certainly did not seek for more. They knew where Jesus was, and they desired no more than the privilege of keeping inseparable company with Him, both in their affections, and by bodily presence. Being ever with our beloved — is this not one of the primary things true love calls for? Indeed it is; and, therefore, we know that visits to the Blessed Sacrament and the Eucharistic Benediction were the secret yet evident loves of the Saints. The time of paying a visit to Jesus is wholly the time of love — a love we will resume practicing in Paradise, since love alone 'does not come to an end' (1 Cor. 13:8). St. Catherine of Genoa made no blunder in saying, 'The time I have spent before the tabernacle is the best spent time of my life.'" (From Jesus Our Eucharistic Love, by Father Stefano Manelli, O.F.M., Conv., S.T.D.).
Are we cold toward Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament? Do we only visit Jesus when we need something or when we feel obliged? Or do we visit Him for the best reason: because we want to be near Him?
When we neglect Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, we hurt ourselves. This because it is only through frequent visits to Jesus in the Eucharist that we are able to grow in that union with God which Jesus desires to bestow upon us in our daily lives. Jesus is interested in our thoughts, our desires, our needs and hopes, our ambitions and our work. Put simply: our daily lives are of the utmost importance to Him. He is there for love of us. And we should be there for love of Him.
Who else is always there for you? Fickle men who praise you one day and denounce you the next? Who else is as interested in you as the Lord Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.
He waits for you. He waits for me. Our sad world cannot hear Him as He says, "Could you not watch with Me for one hour"?
Are we indifferent? Do we seek out the Eucharistic Jesus or do we prefer the noise of this dying world?
Thus Jesus is truly with us. 'Jesus is there!' — The holy Curé of Ars could not finish repeating these three words without shedding tears. And St. Peter Julian Eymard exclaimed with joyful fervor, 'There Jesus is! Therefore all of us should go visit Him!' And when St. Teresa of Jesus heard someone say, 'If only I had lived at the time of Jesus ... If only I had seen Jesus ... If only I had talked with Jesus ...,' she responded in her spirited way, 'But do we not have in the Eucharist the living, true and real Jesus present before us? Why look for more?'
The Saints certainly did not seek for more. They knew where Jesus was, and they desired no more than the privilege of keeping inseparable company with Him, both in their affections, and by bodily presence. Being ever with our beloved — is this not one of the primary things true love calls for? Indeed it is; and, therefore, we know that visits to the Blessed Sacrament and the Eucharistic Benediction were the secret yet evident loves of the Saints. The time of paying a visit to Jesus is wholly the time of love — a love we will resume practicing in Paradise, since love alone 'does not come to an end' (1 Cor. 13:8). St. Catherine of Genoa made no blunder in saying, 'The time I have spent before the tabernacle is the best spent time of my life.'" (From Jesus Our Eucharistic Love, by Father Stefano Manelli, O.F.M., Conv., S.T.D.).
Are we cold toward Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament? Do we only visit Jesus when we need something or when we feel obliged? Or do we visit Him for the best reason: because we want to be near Him?
When we neglect Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, we hurt ourselves. This because it is only through frequent visits to Jesus in the Eucharist that we are able to grow in that union with God which Jesus desires to bestow upon us in our daily lives. Jesus is interested in our thoughts, our desires, our needs and hopes, our ambitions and our work. Put simply: our daily lives are of the utmost importance to Him. He is there for love of us. And we should be there for love of Him.
Who else is always there for you? Fickle men who praise you one day and denounce you the next? Who else is as interested in you as the Lord Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.
He waits for you. He waits for me. Our sad world cannot hear Him as He says, "Could you not watch with Me for one hour"?
Are we indifferent? Do we seek out the Eucharistic Jesus or do we prefer the noise of this dying world?
Monday, October 12, 2009
"More to be blamed are the unworthy and wicked priests..."
Venerable Mary of Agreda was born on April 2, 1602, in Agreda, Spain. Christened Maria Fernandez Coronel, she took the blue habit and made her vows as a nun in the Franciscan order, and in 1627 she became abbess of the Agreda Franciscan monastery until her death on May 24, 1665. The process to declare her a saint began almost immediately after her death, in 1672, as she had lived a life of evident holiness in the eyes of her contemporaries. During her life, she had experienced mystical phenomena including private revelations.
The most famous of these writings is the Mystical City of God: Divine History of the Virgin, Mother of God, which had been dictated by the Virgin Mary Herself. Even after death, Sister Agreda continues to defy the rationalists and non-believers: her body, kept in her convent, is incorrupt. Like a small number of deceased mystics and Catholic saints, the nun's body refuses to naturally decay, even after 344 long years.
Our Lady said to Venerable Mary of Agreda:"More to be blamed are the unworthy and wicked priests; for by the irreverence with which they treat the Blessed Sacrament, the other Catholics have been drawn to undervalue it. If the people see that their priests approach the divine mysteries with holy fear and trembling, they too treat and receive their God in like manner. Those that so honor Him shall shine in heaven like the sun among the stars, for the glory of my Divine Son's humanity will rebound in a special measure in those who have behaved well toward Him in the Blessed Sacrament. The devout will bear on their breast, where they have so often harbored the Holy Eucharist, most beautiful and resplendent inscriptions, showing that they were most worthy tabernacles of the Holy Sacrament. They will also enjoy the special favor of being able to penetrate deeper into the mystery of the presence of the Lord in the sacrament, and to understand all the rest of the wonders hidden therein. This will be such a privilege that IT ALONE would suffice for their eternal happiness, even if there were no other enjoyment in heaven. Moreover, the essential glory of those who have worthily and devoutly received the Holy Eucharist will in several respects exceed the glory of the many martyrs who have not received the Body and Blood of the Lord."
The most famous of these writings is the Mystical City of God: Divine History of the Virgin, Mother of God, which had been dictated by the Virgin Mary Herself. Even after death, Sister Agreda continues to defy the rationalists and non-believers: her body, kept in her convent, is incorrupt. Like a small number of deceased mystics and Catholic saints, the nun's body refuses to naturally decay, even after 344 long years.
Our Lady said to Venerable Mary of Agreda:"More to be blamed are the unworthy and wicked priests; for by the irreverence with which they treat the Blessed Sacrament, the other Catholics have been drawn to undervalue it. If the people see that their priests approach the divine mysteries with holy fear and trembling, they too treat and receive their God in like manner. Those that so honor Him shall shine in heaven like the sun among the stars, for the glory of my Divine Son's humanity will rebound in a special measure in those who have behaved well toward Him in the Blessed Sacrament. The devout will bear on their breast, where they have so often harbored the Holy Eucharist, most beautiful and resplendent inscriptions, showing that they were most worthy tabernacles of the Holy Sacrament. They will also enjoy the special favor of being able to penetrate deeper into the mystery of the presence of the Lord in the sacrament, and to understand all the rest of the wonders hidden therein. This will be such a privilege that IT ALONE would suffice for their eternal happiness, even if there were no other enjoyment in heaven. Moreover, the essential glory of those who have worthily and devoutly received the Holy Eucharist will in several respects exceed the glory of the many martyrs who have not received the Body and Blood of the Lord."
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