HerbEly

Christ is With Us When we Break Bread Together

This Sunday, June 5, we celebrate the Sunday known as “Corpus Christi” — the body of Christ. The scripture readings are: Ex 24:3-8; Ps 116; Heb 9:11-15; Mk 14:12-26

In Exodus we will hear about the sacrifice of blood and body (of bulls) is a sealing of a covenant between the Lord and His people. In Hebrews we will hear:

“For if the blood of goats and bulls

and the sprinkling of a heifer's ashes

can sanctify those who are defiled

so that their flesh is cleansed,

how much more will the blood of Christ,

who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God,

cleanse our consciences from dead works

to worship the living God.”

 

Knowing that, through his body and blood we are cleansed, we will hear the gospel message: Jesus has shared his body and blood with us. This is true for all of us - inmates in prison and those of us under quarantine. Jesus is with us WHENEVER we break bread with fellow Christians. All we have to do is get together with another Christian, share a meal and Christ is with us. We need to remember this and celebrate it with more than a routine prayer before eating.

Pentecost: The Terrorized Become Bold Proclaimers

 

On Pentecost Sunday (May 23) we will hear the story of a  tiny group of the first Christians who are shattered and demoralized. They have seen the Lord ascend to heaven and are now left wondering how they will function. Suddenly they receive a life-giving spirit and go out to start a movement. (Acts 2:1-11) This movement will become the church and gain millions of members. This will happen during the first hundred years.

Like many of us, when I hear this story I will be wishing and wondering why I cannot be one of the ones set on fire and charging out into the world to announce the good news. Rather than wishing we are different, we should listen to the second reading (1 COR 12:3B-7, 12-13). In it, Paul reminds us that there are differing forms of service and different gifts.

All too often, we have a tendency to think that we ought to be exercising the gifts intended for another. We think that we should have that same spirit as the early apostles and feel inadequate as a result. Instead, we should discern our own gifts and set a task in light of them. 

This may seem as if we are taking the softer, easier path. If we are honest about it, we will find that it takes all of effort to use the gifts that we have. Wishing we were different is escapism.

St. Francis de Sales wrote to a young woman, advising her not to wish to go to Africa and experience glorious martyrdom unless she were able to bear the trials of her present life. Good advice for all of us.

The lectionary reading for Sunday omits verses 8-11 from 1 Cor 12. This focuses our attention on our unity amidst differing gifts. While I can see the point, I would rather have left these verses in the reading. Here they are:

 

“8 To one is given through the Spirit the expression of wisdom; to another the expression of knowledge according to the same Spirit; 9 to another faith by the same Spirit; to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit; 10 to another mighty deeds; to another prophecy; to another discernment of spirits; to another varieties of tongues; to another interpretation of tongues.e 11 But one and the same Spirit produces all of these, distributing them individually to each person as he wishes.”

 

Blessings,

 

Herb

Going Forth Even when Confined

May 16 is Ascension Sunday. The Mass readings tell us of a crowd of disciples looking up at the sky and wondering what to do next..

The readings are Acts 1:1-11;Ps 47:2-3, 6-7, 8-9;Eph 1:17-23;Mk 16:15-20

Acts tell us that he risen Lord has just gone up into the sky. The disciples watched wondering how they will build a church without Him. Historians estimate this crowd at no more than 120 members. How did such a small band of common people become“witnesses …to the ends of the earth?” Sunday’s second reading gives us a clue:

“May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe, in accord with the exercise of his great might, which he worked in Christ, raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavens, far above every principality, authority, power, and dominion, and every name that is named not only in this age but also in the one to come.” (Eph 1:18-22)

Paul tells the Ephesians - and us - three things about what we will need when we are sent. We are sent and can proclaim even if confined by age, covid quarantine, in prison or otherwise restricted. First they will be filled with enlightened hearts as they go to “ends of the earth.” Second, Christ was seated far above every earthly and heavenly authority. We will come against “earthly authorities’ in the form of crowds, governmental and private institutions and political parties. Third, Paul reminds us that we see with our hearts as well as our minds.

May we all go forth with the good news.

Guadalupe story enters New Mexico in 17th Century

The original of this image of Our Lady of Guadalupe was hand painted on a 20”x 36” deerskin e by a Franciscan missionary in the 17th century in what is now New Mexico. Silkscreen artist Martha Ann Wallker created a print based on the original. My mother, Stella Marie Schmitt Ely (1912-1946) wrote a poem describing the print. The print is in a book Sacred Paintings on Skin published in 1944 by the Museum of New Mexico Press. Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

“December roses on a stony hill?
Poor fool-he’s mad, completely mad, poor fool1”
Thus spoke the unbelieving ones.
But from his tilma Juan Diego cast
Before them roses, red, and velvet-soft,
And there upon the homely cloth
There glowed an image of his vision fair,
‘Twas just as she had come before
Upon the hills where Juan was hunting herbs,
And told him softly of her wish to build
Upon that spot a place of prayer and praise.
She stood in shining brightness, tall and fair;
Her hands were clasped in an attitude of prayer;
The crescent moon, content to touch her feet,
The stars, to cling upon her azure robe,
The sun, which all around her spread its rays,
Were to her brightness as is dawn today.

They’d asked for facts, for proof--well, here it was-
A miracle! The unbelieving knew;
The scornful bowed; the simple-hearted prayed,
And all together build the shrine she asked.
Thus Guadalupe wrought a miracle
Of Gentleness and faith. In human hearts
Uncounted everlasting shrines were born.

Marie Schmitt Ely

 

 

St. John Nepomucene

The original of this image of St. John Nepomucene was hand painted on a 42”x 72” buffalo hide by a Franciscan missionary in the 17th century in what is now New Mexico. Silkscreen artist Martha Ann Wallker created a print based on the original. My mother, Stella Marie Schmitt Ely (1912-1946) wrote a poem describing the print. The print is in a book Sacred Paintings on Skin published in 1944 by the Museum of New Mexico Press. Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

St. John Nepomucene

In jaded courts of kings and emperors
Too oft is perfidy the rule.
To curry favor, man will sell his soul,
Betray his vows, and thus demean his God.

Bohemia, where Wenceslaus was king,
Had often seen this proved. The kin was proud,
And jealous of his power, mistrustful
Of his queen. He sought in eager hate to find
The proof of what his fevered mind had built,
Into an edifice of vast proportions.
Confessor to the queen, San Juan Nepomuceno
Was called to Wenceslaus and told to break
The holy silence which the penitent received
When to her God she bared her sins.
But John was true, and stood steadfast
‘Gainst desecration of his vows.
They tortured him with rack and fire - -
Such was the frantic furor of the king - -
To no avail. Nor for his constant virtue
Was John praised, but died a martyr’s death.
Kin Wenceslaus was foiled again,
For over San Juan’s floating corpse there glowed
A light so bright and pure it filled the sky.
The people, loyal, humble, full of faith,
Defied the king and claimed the saint for theirs.
The honored him - - and so his story lived.

Bohemia to Mexico - - his fame
Has spanned six hundred years and many miles,
And counsels us to hold in highest trust
The wise discretionary use of words, 
The honor due a vow.

St. Anthony of Padua - 17th Century Painting

The original of this image of St. Anthony was hand painted on a 42”x 72” buffalo hide by a Franciscan missionary in the 17th century in what is now New Mexico. Silkscreen artist Martha Ann Wallker created a print based on the original. My mother, Stella Marie Schmitt Ely (1912-1946) wrote a poem describing the print. The print is in a book Sacred Paintings on Skin published in 1944 by the Museum of New Mexico Press. Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

St. Anthony of Padua

The Infant Jesus stands within his arms,
And in his hand a lily sheaf he bears;
Saint Anthony is rightly pictured so,
For pure in heart and soul was he.
He was a learned man, imbued with zeal,
And taught in many universities
Until, like Francis, he went forth among
His fellow men and spoke to them of all
The miracles and marvels of his God.
Twas when one day he sought to tell
The miracle of God made man that there
Appeared upon his book the Infant Christ.
A man called Bobadilla uttered doubt
That God indeed dwelt bodily within
The Eucharist and called for proof.
Saint Anthonly who in procession bore
The Host, bade Bovadilla’s mule to kneel –
And to his knees the humble creature fell
While all looked on and marveled at the sight,
And Bonvadillo sought in vain to tempt
Te beast with oats he held beside his head.

The patron of the poor, Antonio
Of Padua is called, and for a score
Of things his fame has spread.
His aid is sought to find lost articles;
And those with child beseech his guardianship;
The men who sail on ships ask him to guide
The safe to port, and through his grace with God
He smooths the troubled seas and shows them too
The miracle of faith

 

St. Francis of Assisi - 17th Century Painting

The original of this image of St. Francis was hand painted on a 40”x 69” buffalo hide by a Franciscan missionary in the 17th century in what is now New Mexico. Silkscreen artist Martha Ann Wallker created a print based on the original. My mother, Stella Marie Schmitt Ely (1912-1946) wrote a poem describing the print. The print is in a book Sacred Paintings on Skin published in 1944 by the Museum of New Mexico Press. Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

Francisco was a wealthy youth, well-loved

By all his friends, and loving pleasure, too.

Made prisoner in Perugia, he found

His life an empty one, and searched his mind

For friends and deeds of honest godliness.

From this time on, he cast aside the world

And turned to simple, daily things

Which of no moment seemed to him before.

With poverty he armed himself, as with

A shining, costly cloak; all living things

His brothers were; he preached unto the birds 

With gentleness and sweet sincerity.

That birds and beasts, and humans, too were won.

St Francis for his brethren made the rule

Of poverty, and chastity, and of 

Obedience. Franciscans they were called,

And to this way of life they still and here.

The all wore simple habits, girded with

A rope, barefoot, in humble penitence.

But Francis wore, in hands and feet and side, 

The glorious marks of Christ’s own wounds

Upon the Cross - - the stigmata.

‘Tis thus we see him in New Mexico—

Garbed simply, sandals on his feet,

A hempen cord about his waist.

He contemplates a crucifix, and in

His hand he holds a skull to signify

The emptiness of Life. Behind him are 

His monuments to God – Before him are

All living things to whom he gently speaks,

As long ago he spoke unto the birds.

 

17th Century Painting of the Passion and Descriptive Poem

The original of this depiction of the Passion was hand painted on a 52”xx62” buffalo hide by a Franciscan missionary in the 17th century in what is now New Mexico. Silkscreen artist Martha Ann Wallker created a print based on the original. My mother, Stella Marie Schmitt Ely (1912-1946) wrote a poem describing the print. The print is in a book Sacred Paintings on Skin published in 1944 by the Museum of New Mexico Press. Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

The book contains 12 silkscreen prints each 12 1/8” by 15 7/8.”

 

 

 

Paintings were done with native vegetable dyes on animal hides were prepared as graphic teaching aids. The Friaars could easily roll them and carry them on to the next stop on their missionary journeys.

The book contains 12 silksreen prints each 12 1/8” by 15 7/8.” See my next post for more about the book. Here is the poem:

The Passion

 

Betrayed and tortured, there upon the cross

Christ hung: His tired head with a crown of thorns

Bowed to one side; his desperate, aching arms,

His pain emblazoned hands, outstretched.

His body, lashed and scourged, sagged ever down,

And all about Him, their torture tools;

The cock that signaled Peter seemed to leer;

The vinegar reeked acrid at his feet;

The dice lay, grinning wickedly at him;

The spear to pierce His heart gleamed bright and keen;

The whips and axes, ropes and ladder too - -

The all bore witness to Our Savior’s pain.

The cloth Veronica held up to Him,

Which bore the imprint of that weary face - -

That, too, attested to His woes.

About Him, all was still and blood-besmeared;

But as His pain-racked body first grew cold

A host of angels seemed to hover ‘round;

And God the Father blessed His mighty son

And all those sacrificial implements

Became, by Jesus’ death upon the crucifix, 

The shining means to save men’s souls.

At first a few alone believed Him God,

But more and more became His followers

Until that lonely figure of Christ crucified

Is now in all the world the most beloved.

Stella  Marie Ely

Did Zack Have a Sudden Conversion?

In the scriptures for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time (October 30, 2016) we will hear about a man who has changed. Zaccheus (Zack), unlike the tax collector from last Sunday's Gospel, has done very well for himself. Yet he is willing to go great lengths, running ahead and then climbing a Sycamore tree,  just to see Jesus. When he does, he changes dramatically. He doesn't just offer amends:  he will give half his possessions to the poor. Further, he will repay four times any amount he "might have" extorted.

The point of Sunday's readings is that God is merciful, even to tax collecting extortionists. Psalm 145 tells us that:

"The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness.

The LORD is good to all and compassionate toward all his works."

 

Accepting this, we can still wonder how Zack the extortionist reached a state of mind enabling him to make an instant conversion. I suspect that his conversion started well before the story we hear in the gospel. It was also more gradual, occurring in stages.  This is what we read in our first reading from the book of Wisdom:

"O LORD and lover of souls,

for your imperishable spirit is in all things!

Therefore you rebuke offenders little by little,

warn them and remind them of the sins they are committing,

that they may abandon their wickedness and believe in you, O LORD!"

Zack may have been surprised by his conversion. I imagine that his taxpaying victims were even more surprised.

We need to be patient with our selves and with others. God is working silently within. If we turn ourselves over to the care of God, change will come when we are ready. Not too soon - or too late.

An Overconfident Pharisee

    The scripture readings for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (October 23, 2016) warn good people of a spiritual danger.

    Somewhere (I don't remember where) in John Henry Newman's writings there is a magnificent paragraph about how self confidence and humility work together. 

    Confidence, aka self esteem, helps us to undertake tasks when we are hesitant or afraid the we might fail. Overconfidence, on the other hand, is a danger as many athletes have learned. Overconfidence leads us to be lax in preparation and ignore help from others. The result is likely to be failure. Humility protects us by reminding us that failure is possible.

    This Sunday's Gospel (Lk 18:9-14) makes this point about a Pharisee:

 "To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two people went up to the temple area to pray;
one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. 
The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity --
greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector. 
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.

    If the Pharisee had simply thanked God that he was able to fast twice a week and tithe, he would have been alright. Overconfident, he compared himself to the tax collector. He, in contrast, knew he had harmed others by collecting unjust taxes. He simply asked "God, have mercy on me, a sinner." He went home justified and, presumably, with some serenity.

  Last Sunday we heard about the importance of gratitude for having been healed. This Sunday we should be reminded to continue in our gratitude. We can easily begin to think that our gifts belong to us alone and give credit to ourselves. We forget, or don’t know, that our virtue is a product of circumstance and grace. We would do well to remember this line from Alexander Solzhenitsyn: 

“…But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

    If we can find that line - and remember it - we will have the humility required to balance our confidence.