Pauca Verba is Latin for A Few Words.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

"...and the rocks for the coneys."




The trees of Yahweh drink their fill,
the cedars of Lebanon which he sowed;
there the birds build their nests,
on the highest branches, the stork makes its home;
for the wild goats there are the mountains,
in the crags the coneys find refuge.

He made the moon to mark the seasons,
the sun knows when to set,
You bring on darkness, and the night falls,
when all the forest beasts roam around;
young lions roar for their prey,
asking God for their food.

The sun rises and away they steal,
back to their lairs to lie down,
and man goes out to work,
to labor till evening falls.

How countless are your works, O Lord,
all of them made so wisely!
The earth is full of your creatures.

Psalm 104:  16-25

These nine verses come from the much longer psalm 104, happily musing on God's creation - so alive and wondrous. The verses are full of lovely images: the young lions ask God for their food by roaring, the sun has its own mind and knows what it has to do, storks build stick-nests on the highest branches of the trees.

We're so in danger of losing this mysterious intimacy with God's creatures - trudging off to work in our cars, to hermetically sealed and climate-controlled offices. Remember Joni Mitchell's 1970 hit song Big Yellow Taxi:

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise 
And put up a parking lot.

They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and half just to see 'em.

Don't it always seem to go...

Hey farmer, farmer
Put away that DDT now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees,
Please!

Don't it always seem to go...

The plants and animals are becoming extinct at an alarming rate, largely due to habitat destruction. The sad thing is we aren't paying it much mind, so long as there's at least one elephant left (if even cloned) to take our kids to see in the zoo. 

Anyway, this psalm translation uses the word coneys for small mammals that live in groups on the mountain. One bible note calls them mountain mice. Perhaps they're what we would know to be rabbits.

The mountains would have been an unexplored frontier in the ancient bible world. Today our frontier is outer space. Who knows what we'll find there someday. But the psalm-sense is that even in the un-explored places, God has made animate and inanimate things for God's own delight. And God provides what the creatures need: dew on the morning grass to drink, the green vegetation and a place to escape from the enemies in the sky - whether it's the scorching sun or the hawk. And we're to share that delight!

But we also might see this refuge among the rocks as an image of Christ the Rock (1 Corinthians: 10:04) - Christ, to whom we can fly in times of danger, sorrow, over-whelming challenge or trouble, where the spiritual enemy to despair lurks. Christ, when life seems too much to bear.

And oh, here's a final thought. The little rabbit in the mountain crag might call to mind the teaching of Jesus in Matthew 6: 5,6.

And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites, they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward, But when you pray, go to your private room, shut yourself in, and so pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

I dare say, if this rabbit had a door to her private room here, she'd close it.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Sunday Intercessions ~ Third Sunday in Ordinary Time


Snowdrops

We pray for all who are struggling this winter here and elsewhere,/ for those who lack food,/ friendship and proper shelter./ We ask for the softening of hearts to help those who are forgotten./ We pray to the Lord.

Each January the Church prays for the protection of all human life./ We ask for a national conversion which recognizes each human person as a thought of God,/ a heartbeat of God./ We pray to the Lord.

We all know people who have particular struggles,/ burdens and problems to bear./ We ask for them to be blessed with  gifts of courage,/ strength and endurance./ For the troubled country of Syria./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for those who despite their best efforts/ are still finding it difficult to secure work or to make ends meet./ And that we would be grateful for the work we have to do./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for the men and women who are members of the armed forces,/ boldly asking for that world peace which would allow soldiers and sailors all around the world/ to return home in happiness and security./ We pray to the Lord.

As we approach the altar we pray for priests:/ for young priests and elderly priests,/ for priests who are tired,/ sick,/ unhappy,/ damaged or in any kind of trouble./ For the renewal and up-building of the priesthood in every place./ We pray to the Lord.

We hold our families in prayer now/ asking for restored health and consolation for all who are afflicted with sickness,/ sadness,/ trouble or anxiety./ We pray to the Lord.

We call to mind those known to us who have died./ We pray for deceased clergy and members of our parishes/ asking for their fulfillment in Christ./ We pray to the Lord.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Feast of Agnes ~ Virgin-Martyr




TODAY IS THE FEAST OF SAINT AGNES. This image is titled: Saint Agnes in Prison Receiving From Heaven the Shining White Garment. It was painted by Frank Cadogan Cowper in 1905.  Agnes is one of dozens of third and fourth century girl-saints collectively called the Virgin Martyrs. Some of their names are listed in the Roman Canon of the Catholic Mass: Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia. There are others too, like Dorothy, Catherine, Barbara, Eulalia, Euthalia.

As celibate men largely manage the saints, the Virgin Martyrs have lost their spiritual power, reducing them to defenders of purity-chastity. It isn't really about that. As a Church we have allowed them to become something like mascots: defenders of military branches, sources of specialty foods, fabulous tales that are supposed to reveal God's favor, and patrons of virtually everything. None of it has anything to do with Christ. That's the problem.

The long and short of it is: in their ancient world all marriages were arranged. Like it or not, you were told often at a very young age who you'd marry. And so Christian girls, who were frequently converts, were told they would have to marry pagan men. They refused knowing that to bear children would mean having to dedicate them to an emperor who considered himself to be a god.

A young girl can display a tremendous resolve and so the court trials reveal the girl standing in her Christ-conviction: her family, spurned lover and government enforcers on the other side increasingly furious at being undone by a girl who would save herself if she only did what she was told to do.

The girl, often just pubescent, was sent to a brothel or jail. Eventually, those with the power to punish would shut her up by attacking her mouth, teeth and tongue so they wouldn't have to listen to her Christ-testimony anymore. She'd first be made into damaged goods and un-marriageable in every respect  removing her breasts, raping and decapitating her. Often the betrayer was the fiance in a sick alliance with the girl's family.

The point isn't the chaste protection of virginal purity. The point is: "Jesus Christ is my God and there'll be no other." One poem or hymn speaks of a girl-martyr as possessing a manly strength. Not at all. She had her own strength, a strength very many men,  including men among the clergy, could learn from.


You cover your senses
with the presence of God,
holy martyr ~
the robe-bearing angel
to dress you in brightness.

A dove flew from
your severed head,
the yielding of your
Spirit-mind,
which we can only
think to snare and tame.

O Agnes,
ferocious in your girl-truth,
as in your open hands,
open stubborn hearts.