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Praise to the holiest in the heights, And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful; Most sure in all His ways! O loving wisdom of our God! When all was sin and shame, A second Adam to the fight And to the rescue came. O wisest love! that flesh and blood Which did in Adam fail, Should strive afresh against the foe, Should strive and should prevail; And that a higher gift than grace Should flesh and blood refine, God's Presence and His very Self, And Essence all-divine. O generous love! that He who smote In man for man the foe, The double agony in man For man should undergo; And in the garden secretly, And on the cross on high, Should teach His brethren and inspire To suffer and to die. |
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“THOU askest us to love Thee, O my God,
and Thou art Thyself Love. There was one attribute of Thine which Thou
didst exercise from eternity, and that was Love. We hear of no exercise
of Thy power whilst Thou wast alone, nor of Thy justice before there
were creatures on their trial; nor of Thy wisdom before the acts and
works of Thy Providence; but from eternity Thou didst love, for Thou
art not only One but Three. The Father loved from eternity His only
begotten Son, and the Son returned to Him an equal love. And the Holy
Ghost is that love in substance, wherewith the Father and the Son love
one another. This, O Lord, is Thine ineffable and special blessedness.
It is love. I adore Thee, O my infinite Love!”
Dear Little Hearts,
It is absolutely staggering if one really reflects
upon it, that GOD should, 'want'-'need'-'ask- for'
MY love!
That God in all his perfection and beauty should want me! And what
He wants is not my achievements, my successes, no matter how praiseworthy
they may be; what He wants is my heart! He wants to be loved! Is
this not ever the plea of the Lover? ... to be loved in return?
Dwell upon this reality, let it sink into the deepest fibre of your
being, God ever loves, His love is without a beginning, without an end ...
the Three Divine Persons love ... and in the fullness of time
He chose to draw us into His Trinitarian Life to know and to respond to
His love.
This is our dignity, this is our calling: each of us is
precious --- needed, wanted, and loved by God.
May God bless you with the grace that uncovers your blindness and allows you to see this!
A Poor Clare Colettine Nun
"God has created
me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to
me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I never
may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. Somehow
I am necessary for His purposes, as necessary in my place as an Archangel
in his—if, indeed, I fail, He can raise another, as He could make the
stones children of Abraham. Yet I have a part in this great work; I
am a link in a chain, a bond of connexion between persons. He has not
created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do His work; I shall
be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not
intending it, if I do but keep His commandments and serve Him in my
calling.
Therefore I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never
be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him;
in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow
may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary
causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing
in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He
is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers,
He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future
from me—still He knows what He is about.
O Adonai, O Ruler of Israel, Thou that guidest Joseph like a flock,
O Emmanuel, O Sapientia, I give myself to Thee. I trust Thee
wholly. Thou art wiser than I—more loving to me than I myself. Deign
to fulfill Thy high purposes in me whatever they be—work in and through
me. I am born to serve Thee, to be Thine, to be Thy instrument. Let
me be Thy blind instrument. I ask not to see—I ask not to know—I
ask simply to be used."
"God has created all things
for good; all things for their greatest good; everything for its own
good. What is the good of one is not the good of another; what makes
one man happy would make another unhappy. God has determined, unless
I interfere with His plan, that I should reach that which will be my
greatest happiness. He looks on me individually, He calls me by my name,
He knows what I can do, what I can best be, what is my greatest happiness,
and He means to give it me.
God knows what is my greatest happiness, but I do not. There is no rule
about what is happy and good; what suits one would not suit another.
And the ways by which perfection is reached vary very much; the medicines
necessary for our souls are very different from each other. Thus God
leads us by strange ways; we know He wills our happiness, but we neither
know what our happiness is, nor the way. We are blind; left to ourselves
we should take the wrong way; we must leave it to Him.
Let us put ourselves into His hands, and not be startled though He leads
us by a strange way, a mirabilis via, as the Church speaks. Let us be
sure He will lead us right, that He will bring us to that which is,
not indeed what we think best, nor what is best for another, but what
is best for us.
Colloquy: O, my God, I will put myself without reserve
into Thy hands. Wealth or woe, joy or sorrow, friends or bereavement,
honour or humiliation, good report or ill report, comfort or discomfort,
Thy presence or the hiding of Thy countenance, all is good if it comes
from Thee. Thou art wisdom and Thou art love—what can I desire more?
Thou hast led me in Thy counsel, and with glory hast Thou received me.
What have I in Heaven, and apart from Thee what want I upon earth? My
flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the God of my heart, and my portion
for ever."
"As
the Father hath loved Me, I also have loved you. Abide in My love."
What mystery in the whole circle of revealed truths is greater than
this?
The love which the Son bears to thee, a creature, is like that which
the Father bears to the uncreated Son. O wonderful mystery! This, then,
is the history of what else is so strange: that He should have taken
my flesh and died for me. The former mystery anticipates the latter;
that latter does but fulfil the former. Did He not love me so inexpressibly,
He would not have suffered for me. I understand now why He died for
me, because He loved me as a father loves his son—not as a human father
merely, but as the Eternal Father the Eternal Son. I see now the meaning
of that else inexplicable humiliation: He preferred to regain me rather
than to create new worlds.
How constant is He in His affection! He has loved us from the time of
Adam. He has said from the beginning, "I will never leave thee nor forsake
thee." He did not forsake us in our sin. He did not forsake me. He found
me out and regained me. He made a point of it—He resolved to restore
me, in spite of myself, to that blessedness which I was so obstinately
set against. And now what does He ask of me, but that, as He has loved
me with an everlasting love, so I should love Him in such poor measures
as I can show.
O mystery of mysteries, that the ineffable love of Father to Son should
be the love of the Son to us! Why was it, O Lord? What good thing didst
Thou see in me a sinner? Why wast Thou set on me? "What
is man, that Thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that Thou visitest
him?" This poor
flesh of mine, this weak sinful soul, which has no life except in Thy
grace, Thou didst set Thy love upon it. Complete Thy work, O Lord, and
as Thou hast loved me from the beginning, so make me to love Thee unto
the end."
Printable PDF Version of Hope by Blessed John Henry Newman
"Mary is the most beautiful flower
that ever was seen in the spiritual world. It is by the power of God's
grace that from this barren and desolate earth there have ever sprung
up at all flowers of holiness and glory. And Mary is the Queen of them.
She is the Queen of spiritual flowers; and therefore she is called the
Rose, for the rose is fitly called of all flowers the most beautiful.
But moreover, she is the Mystical, or hidden Rose; for mystical means
hidden. How is she now "hidden" from us more than are other saints?
What means this singular appellation, which we apply to her specially?
The answer to this question introduces us to a third reason for believing
in the reunion of her sacred body to her soul, and its assumption into
heaven soon after her death, instead of its lingering in the grave until
the General Resurrection at the last day.
It is this:—if her body was not taken into heaven, where is it? how
comes it that it is hidden from us? why do we not hear of her tomb as
being here or {67} there? why are not pilgrimages made to it? why are
not relics producible of her, as of the saints in general? Is it not
even a natural instinct which makes us reverent towards the places where
our dead are buried? We bury our great men honourably. St. Peter speaks
of the sepulchre of David as known in his day, though he had died many
hundred years before. When our Lord's body was taken down from the Cross,
He was placed in an honourable tomb. Such too had been the honour already
paid to St. John Baptist, his tomb being spoken of by St. Mark as generally
known. Christians from the earliest times went from other countries
to Jerusalem to see the holy places. And, when the time of persecution
was over, they paid still more attention to the bodies of the Saints,
as of St. Stephen, St. Mark, St. Barnabas, St. Peter, St. Paul, and
other Apostles and Martyrs. These were transported to great cities,
and portions of them sent to this place or that. Thus, from the first
to this day it has been a great feature and characteristic of the Church
to be most tender and reverent towards the bodies of the Saints.
Now, if there was anyone who more than all
would be preciously taken care of, it would be our Lady. Why then do
we hear nothing of the Blessed Virgin's body and its separate relics?
Why is she thus the hidden Rose? Is it conceivable that they who had
been so reverent and careful of the bodies of the Saints and Martyrs
should neglect her—her who was the Queen of Martyrs and the Queen of
Saints, who was the very Mother of our Lord? It is impossible. Why then
is she thus the hidden Rose? Plainly because that sacred body is in
heaven, not on earth."
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Also see: John Henry Cardinal Newman and the Absurdity that is Boston
We strongly recommend "Snapdragon in the Wall" by Joyce Sugg as a very readable biographical account of Saint John Henry Newman's life.
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