God loves the cheerful, joyful and grateful (as well as the rest of us)

A charming fellow blogger, Nârwen Lewis has excellent taste in saints. She is a big fan of a holy man who deserves it, the Venerable John Henry Newman, as well as the full-of-joy St. Philip Neri whose feast is celebrated today in the Catholic calendar. (Joining this theme of joy that I appreciate so much, my favorite St. Teresa of Avila calls out: "From somber, serious, sullen saints, save us, O Lord!")

As I was perusing Nârwen's writings, I came across a wonderful litany she has written, part of which I've extracted below. I want to observe her cautions that this is for private use only. But isn't it inspiring?

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, hear us.
Christ, graciously hear us.
God the Father of heaven,
Have mercy on us.
God the Son, Redeemer of the world,
Have mercy on us.
God the Holy Ghost,
Have mercy on us.
Holy Trinity, one God,
Have mercy on us.
. . .
From all pride, deliver us, Lord Jesus.
From lack of charity, deliver us, Lord Jesus.
From putting ourselves first, deliver us, Lord Jesus.
From brooding over our faults, deliver us, Lord Jesus.
From scruples and sadness, deliver us, Lord Jesus.
From taking ourselves too seriously, deliver us, Lord Jesus.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,
Spare us, O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,
Graciously hear us, O Lord.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,
Have mercy on us.
Christ, hear us.
Christ, graciously hear us.

*******

May Christ graciously hear you and me, and may He bless you in every way that matters most.
-Roz

What do daily Mass and the Wall Street Journal have in common?

I've rarely made exercise a regular part of my life. I wimp out well before the point where (I'm told) one experiences being energized and healthy rather than simply exhausted with a tight band across one's chest. I've had friends who actually feel deprived on days when they miss exercise. I am alternately baffled and envious.

But I understand the principle. As a business school student, I read the Wall Street Journal every day. I can't say that any one day's reading made me feel particularly more educated, enlightened or full of (jargon alert!) business acumen. But my daily dose of WSJ gradually gave me an overall awareness of the business environment, industries, international trends, and principles that gave me more smarts over time.

I'm reminded of this experience as I grow in making daily attendance at Mass a regular practice. I can't point to any particular time I've received Jesus in the Eucharist that was overwhelmingly and specifically distinctive. But every day, hearing the word of God, participating in the congregational responses, kneeling and making the sign of the cross as evidence even to myself that something different is going on here, and most of all putting the host on my tongue and the chalice to my lips -- these are exercising power in my life.

I don't go because I ought to go. I go because I want to go. And I want to go . . . because I go. Being fed increases the hunger. Being hungry increases the satisfaction and fulfillment. I don't understand it. But I keep going back. I want more of Jesus. I want Him to have more of me, if He'll have me.

Is there a mature way to say "Confession rocks?"

I know, I'm spending too much time among my Young Adults.

The Lord has been been bringing a lot about the Sacrament of Penance into my path. I'm glad. It's one of the aspects of being a reignited Catholic that I didn't expect to find a particular blessing. But it is, deeply.

Today's contribution to my edification was a great piece from the blog The Shrine of the Holy Whapping (What a great name, huh? The essay is titled The Descent of Mount Tabor -- you may have to scroll up for it.)

If you, too, are feeling drawn to the Sacrament and are interested in talking about it with others, check out the discussion over at Plumbline in the Wind.

My favorite Mystery

I've always loved mystery stories. If there weren't an Agatha Christie or Dorothy Sayers next to my bed, you'd find Josephine Tey or Rex Stout.

But I'm talking about a Divine Mystery here. The second Joyful Mystery - the happy visit between Mary and Elizabeth. Two women, each who have known social disgrace because of their childbearing or lack thereof, kinswomen of different generations, take delight in each others' greetings because God is pouring down love and comfort through one another.

I have long loved the verse from Luke, "Blessed is she who believed that the word of the Lord to her would be fulfilled," hoping that this word would be true for me as well. It was always a reminder that my only hope lay in the fulfillment of God's word to me. My own efforts in any other direction would stumble and fall, and good riddance to them, I say. I don't want to go in another direction, however successfully. God, may I please be blessed by faith that your word to me will be fulfilled. Let me imitate Mary and cooperate in whatever it is that you want to do.

Let's get Eucharistic

I've been Catholic all my life, but I've been a practicing Catholic again since March 27, 2004. I left because it seemed like it was the right thing to do. I came back because the grace of God drew me. I've been freshly acquainting myself with the Rosary, Eucharistic Adoration, daily Mass, morning and evening prayer (thanks very much, Magnificat magazine).

I'm rich. Who knew it would be such a blessing?