Music Tuesday: Adoro Te Devote

My friend Kelly, who has commented on this blog, and, actually as I think on it, was one of the people who inspired me to start this blog many years ago, sent me an email concerning this lovely hymn.   Kelly is the music director at her parish—I think that’s her title but actually I’m not a hundred percent sure.  Nonetheless she is involved in the music at her parish.  She sent me an email of a hymn that she came across, Adoro te devote, translated into English as “I Devoutly Adore You.” 

No, she wasn’t sending me a note of adoration—hahaha—but telling me about the translator into English of this hymn which was originally composed in Latin by St. Thomas Aquinas as a prayer.  Most people know about St. Thomas’s philosophic and theological gifts, but less known is his gift for composing poetry in Latin, and his poetry was prayer.  According to Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adoro_te_devote this prayer was not part of the liturgical works Aquinas had composed for the Solemnity of Corpus Christi https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feast_of_Corpus_Christi but for his own private use before the Blessed Sacrament.  Here is a rendition of the hymn in Latin, followed by the Latin text.

 

Adoro te devote

By St. Thomas Aquinas

 

Adoro te devote, latens deitas,

Quæ sub his figuris vere latitas;

Tibi se cor meum totum subicit,

Quia te contemplans totum deficit.

 

Visus, tactus, gustus in te fallitur,

Sed auditu solo tuto creditur.

Credo quidquid dixit Dei Filius;

Nil hoc verbo Veritátis verius.

 

In Cruce latebat sola Deitas,

At hic latet simul et Humanitas,

Ambo tamen credens atque confitens,

Peto quod petivit latro pœnitens.

 

Plagas, sicut Thomas, non intueor:

Deum tamen meum te confiteor.

Fac me tibi semper magis credere,

In te spem habere, te diligere.

 

O memoriale mortis Domini,

Panis vivus, vitam præstans homini,

Præsta meæ menti de te vívere,

Et te illi semper dulce sapere.

 

Pie Pelicane, Jesu Domine,

Me immundum munda tuo Sanguine:

Cujus una stilla salvum facere

Totum mundum quit ab omni scelere.

 

Jesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio,

Oro, fiat illud quod tam sitio:

Ut te revelata cernens facie,

Visu sim beátus tuæ gloriæ. Amen.

Now that is very beautiful.  What Kelly had sent me was a link to an English translation of the hymn posted at the website, Hymnary.  Hymnary by its own identification, is a “comprehensive index of hymns and hymnals.”  I believe you can think of it as a library of hymns, and I’ve actually come across it before but I can’t remember why.  I must have done a search for a hymn and Hymnary popped up.  Kelly’s surprise when she looked at the Adoro te devote page, and why she thought of me, was the translator of the Latin hymn into English.  If you look at the bottom of the page the English translator is listed as “G. Manly Hopkins,” that is the great English poet and Catholic convert, Gerard Manly Hopkins.  I have posted often on Hopkins, and you can find those posts here.  

What is funny about that Hymnary page is that below the translator’s name is this about him: “no biographical information available about G. Manley Hopkins.”  Hahaha, that is very funny.  They could just have looked in Wikipedia or Norton’s Anthology of English Literature.  I suspect that the people who run Hymnary are mostly Protestant musicians, and so don’t know very much of poets nor of famous Catholic converts.  Hopkins is a great modernist poet who converted to Catholicism and became a Jesuit priest.  Like Thomas Aquinas, Hopkins’ poems are prayers as well.  Here is the Hopkins translation of the Adore te devote.

 

Adoro te devote

By St. Thomas Aquinas

Translated by Gerard Manly Hopkins

 

Godhead here in hiding whom I do adore

Masked by these bare shadows, shape and nothing more.

See, Lord, at thy service low lies here a heart

Lost, all lost in wonder at the God thou art.

 

Seeing, touching, tasting are in thee deceived;

How says trusty hearing? that shall be believed;

What God's Son has told me, take for truth I do;

Truth himself speaks truly or there's nothing true.

 

On the cross thy godhead made no sign to men;

Here thy very manhood steals from human ken:

Both are my confession, both are my belief,

And I pray the prayer made by the dying thief.

 

I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,

But I plainly call thee Lord and God as he:

This faith each day deeper be my holding of,

Daily make me harder hope and dearer love.

 

O thou, our reminder of the Crucified,

Living Bread, the life of us for whom he died,

Lend this life to me, then; feed and feast my mind,

There be thou the sweetness man was meant to find.

 

Like what tender tales tell of the Pelican,

Bathe me, Jesus Lord, in what thy bosom ran--

Blood that but one drop of has the pow'r to win

All the world forgiveness of its world of sin.

 

Jesus whom I look at shrouded here below,

I beseech thee, send me what I thirst for so,

Some day to gaze on thee face to face in light

And be blest forever with thy glory's sight.

What is amazing is that Hopkins keeps Thomas’s eleven syllable line (called the hendecasyllabicline) and the coupling rhyme scheme.  The hendecasyllabic line is much more common in Latin and not very common in English. 

First let’s listen to it read as a poem, read here by Jonathan Roumie. 

 

Notice Hopkins also keeps the caesura—the pause in the middle of most lines—that forms the heart of the melody.  Listen to the Latin again and hear how Aquinas composes a pause at the end of each line but also a subtle, shorter pause in the middle of each line, the caesura.  Hopkins is very conscious of the caesura and incorporates it into the English translation as well. 

It’s not a complicated poem thematically.  The poem is about being and praying before the Blessed Sacrament—that which we Catholics consider to be the real presence of Jesus—that which looks like bread but has through transubstantiation become the Body of Christ.  The Thomas in the fourth stanza is a reference to Thomas the Apostle—the doubting Thomas of the Gospels.  Thomas Aquinas is saying that though he may be a “Thomas,” he is not the doubting one.  The allusion to the Pelican in the sixth stanza is a reference to the pelican being a symbol for Christ.  It was legendary that the pelican poked her chest until it bled to feed her chicks the blood which poured out.  From Wikipedia: 

 

In a newer, also medieval version of the European myth, the pelican was thought to be particularly attentive to her young, to the point of providing them with blood by wounding her own breast when no other food was available. As a result, the pelican came to symbolize the Passion of Jesus and the Eucharist, supplementing the image of the lamb and the flag. This mythical characteristic is referenced in the hymn "Adoro te devote" ("Humbly We Adore Thee"), where in the penultimate verse, Saint Thomas Aquinas describes Christ as the loving divine pelican, one drop of whose blood can save the world. Similarly, the 1678 Christian allegorical novel The Pilgrim’s Progress describes how “the pelican pierce[s] her own breast with her bill … to nourish her young ones with her blood, and thereby to show that Christ the blessed so loveth his young, his people, as to save them from death by his blood.”

Now here is a musical version of the hymn with the Gerard Manly Hopkins translation.  Note, the English version goes by the name "Godhead Here in Hiding: from the first words of the opening lines.

 

I picked this version because it sings all seven stanzas.  I think it important that one hear all seven stanzas to get the full insight of Thomas’s prayer.

Now if you want to hear a more modernized, ballad shaped rendition, the wonderful Matt Maher arranged this version.  He does take liberties with the stanza order and does not sing them all. 

 

That is beautiful too.  And the guitar instrumentation doesn’t take away from the reverence.

This reminds me of my post from earlier this month on the 750^th anniversary of the death of St. Thomas Aquinas.  I also noted there how Pope Francis has authorized a plenary indulgence for all those who visit a Dominican church, shrine, or chapel.  You can get the details of the indulgence here.  

I just want to end with emphasizing how St. Thomas Aquinas was so much more than a theologian.  Philosopher, theologian, scholar, ethicist, mystic, poet, friend.  In this 750^th year, discover a good biography and learn about his life and work. 

Sunday Meditation: The Time of Judgement

Last week we heard Jesus telling us that He must be lifted up to bring eternal life.  He said this in the third chapter of John in a conversation to Nicodemus, the elder at the Temple.  It was a mysterious comment that is picked up again and elaborated on nine chapters later, this time to a crowd in Jerusalem who had come for Passover.  But as a lead in to that, Jesus first speaks of life and death as a grain of wheat.

 

Some Greeks who had come to worship at the Passover Feast

came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee,

and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”

Philip went and told Andrew;

then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

Jesus answered them,

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.

Amen, amen, I say to you,

unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,

it remains just a grain of wheat;

but if it dies, it produces much fruit.

Whoever loves his life loses it,

and whoever hates his life in this world

will preserve it for eternal life.

Whoever serves me must follow me,

and where I am, there also will my servant be.

The Father will honor whoever serves me.

 

“I am troubled now.  Yet what should I say?

‘Father, save me from this hour’?

But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour.

Father, glorify your name.”

Then a voice came from heaven,

“I have glorified it and will glorify it again.”

The crowd there heard it and said it was thunder;

but others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”

Jesus answered and said,

“This voice did not come for my sake but for yours.

Now is the time of judgment on this world;

now the ruler of this world will be driven out.

And when I am lifted up from the earth,

I will draw everyone to myself.”

He said this indicating the kind of death he would die.

~Jn 12:20-33

This is a complicated passage.  There is much going on.  First the Greeks coming to Philip, and him and Andrew taking them to Jesus; then the grain of wheat metaphor; then the embracing of death; then the glorification and the voice of the Father; then announcing the time of judgement; and finally the lifting up description.  This will require more than one exegesis to grasp it all.

First let’s listen to Brant Pitre to get the gist of the Gospel reading.

 

Second, Bishop Robert Barron provides the more theological implications of the passage.

 

Finally Jeff Cavens provides a connection to our personal lives.

 

Gosh, I think I have in the past missed the voice of God the Father, “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.”  There is so much in this passage that it must have never sunk in that the Father actually speaks.  The voice of God enters here to verify His approval of the glorification. 

Another striking element to the passage is that Jesus seems to ignore the Greeks.  They come to greet Him and what does He say?  Tangentially He announces the hour has come for Him to be glorified.  Does the crowd now understand the lifting up image?  I don’t think so.  I think one can only understand that after one sees His crucifixion.

So this week I gave you a triple play, but if you want a grand slam search out Fr. Geoffrey Plant’s homily on this passage.  That’s worth watching as well.

 

Meditation: “Now is the time of judgment on this world.”

 

Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz, Part 5

This is fifth post of Henryk Sienkiewicz’s historical novel, Quo Vadis.

You can find Post #1 here.  

Post #2, here.

And Post #3 here.  

And Post #4 here. 

 

Chapters 28 thru 34

Summary

Petronius writes another letter to Vinicuis.  He is shocked about the recent happenings with Vinicius, especially of the ability of Ursus to so easily defeat Croton.  But he cannot understand the Christians and their religion.  He asks Vinicius to meet him in Beneventum with the rest of Nero’s entourage.  Vinicius, now back to his home, feels no desire to reply.  He is torn about staying in his home or going back to that Christian abode he was nursed.  He rejects going to Beneventum entirely and writes to tell Petronius that Christian kindness and forgiveness has moved him, and this has increased his love for Lygia.  He tells Petronius that Lygia has run off again because of the impossibility of their relationship.  He tells him also of meeting another leader of the Christians, Paul of Tarsus.  He tells Petronius that he is thinking of embracing Christianity but there is something in him that revolts at the idea.  He tells him of the little crosses Lygia has left for him made out of twigs.  He concludes with a confession that the Christians have changed his soul.

Vinicius now lives in his house shut off thinking only of Lygia and the Christians.  He senses that Lygia loves him in return, and contemplates receiving baptism to join their community.  At home, his soul struggles between his life as a Roman and his potential life as a Christian.  In an excursion into the countryside he meets Chrysothemis, a loose upper class Roman woman, who tries to seduce him but which he rejects.  In time Petronius returns to Rome and tries to get Vincius to travel abroad to break these doldrums he is in.  But Vinicius has no desire.  Petronius gets angry at what the Christians have done to him.  Petronius, as an Epicurean, tries to entice him with other women.  He even shows him the pleasure he receives from his woman slave Eunice.  But all this just deepens Vinicius’ desire for Lygia, and he rejects all of Petronius’s enticements and tells Petroinus they no longer understand each other.

Nero, upon returning back to Rome, wants to travel again and yet can’t, wants to change the buildings of Rome and yet can’t.  He has become even more of a megalomaniac.  He is now infatuated with Rubria, the young Vestal Virgin.  A conversation ensues where Vinicius tells Nero of how Ursus killed Croton, and Nero wants to see this barbarian.  He asks of Lygia, and Vinicius does not respond.  But he invites Vinicius to another of his feasts. 

At this feast, held at the pond of Agrippa, on a raft in the pond, all sorts of entertainment was provided: music and song, dancers, mock naval battles on the pond, exotic foods, and wines.  Poppea seemed to be infatuated with Vinicius, who was seated next to her.  At dusk the raft touched land and all the entourage scattered into the woods where tents were arranged for illicit wanton liaisons.   Vinicius too was stirred into lust and ran into the woods, but his recall of Lygia held him back, and when he was about to get away a masked woman approached him.  She pushed herself on him and he rejected her.  At that moment Petronius approached and the veiled woman ran off.  When the two could speak privately, Petronius tells him that Nero has committed the grave sin of having sex with the Vestal Virgin Rubria.  Vinicius wondering who that veiled woman could be is told it was Poppaea.  Filled with disgust, Vinicius wishes to leave Rome.

Afterward, Petronius contemplates the trouble Vinicius is in.  If Vinicius succumbs to Poppaea’s advances, Vinicius will be under Nero’s wrath.  If he continues to resist Poppaea, he will be under Poppaea’s wrath.  It would be safer for Vinicius to leave Rome altogether.  In addition he plans to suggest to Nero that he expel all the Christians from Rome, and so Lygia would be away from Vinicius.  Hoping to meet again with Lygia, Vinicius rejects leaving Rome.   Despite Petroius explaining all the dangers around him, Vinicius can only think of finding Lygia.  As it turns out, Chilo returns to Vinicius’ house and informs him he knows where Lygia is now.  He could take her to this new house where she was staying with a priest named Linus.  Passion took Vinicius again.  He realized he could go to this house and seize her.  But this would never allow Lygia to love him.  He felt the tension again between his Roman consciousness and a Christian one.  At that moment, Chilo standing before him disgusted him.  He ordered that he be whipped with three hundred lashes.  Begging, Chilo pleaded.  But Vinicius’s Roman heart was unmoved and his slaves pulled Chilo away to be whipped.  Chilo begged “in the name of Christ.” And while Chilo was being flogged, Vinicius repented, also “in the name of Christ.”  When Chilo revived, Vinicius had him lead to the house where Lygia was staying.

At the house, Vinicius finds Miriam, her son, Peter, Glaucus, Crispus, and Paul.  He greets them in the name of Christ.  He explains to them that his love for Lygia has been a suffering, and that he cannot take her by force but through Christianity must have her love him.  Christianity he explains has changed him.  Though it be unnecessary to ask, he requests her hand in marriage through them.  He acknowledges he has an incomplete understanding of the faith but is predisposed to accept it.  He even sees thorough the misconception of Christianity bringing no joy of life.  Peter especially is pleased and welcomes him.  Lygia then arrives and is surprised to find Vinicius.  Peter asks her if she loves Vinicius, and she says she does.

Together in a garden, Vinicius and Lygia express their love for each other and plan to marry.  As they go over the events that led to their initial meeting and their final betrothal, Lygia points out it was the hand of Christ that had shaped the circumstances, and Vinicius agrees.  He envisions them in the future living at his home in Rome.  They plan the wedding and sit to eat with the others.

###

My Comment:

I think Chapter 33 is just about the midpoint of the novel, and there the conversion of Vinicius is completed.  So the main thrust of the first half is to bring Vinicius from a young, Roman aristocrat and soldier to his conversion to Christianity.  He is clearly the hero and central character of the novel.  I am surprised to find that we see the Christianity from an outsider’s perspective.  Sienkiewicz has done a superb job of credibly creating the ancient Roman consciousness and worldview and then looking at Christianity through that worldview, capturing both what would repulse the Romans about the Christians and what would make the pagan world attracted.  And also he’s created a credible love story of what would seemingly be impossible two to bring together.

Michelle’s Comment:

Vinicius' conversion was so wonderfully written. It wasn't an instantaneous light switch, but an ongoing struggle with him toggling back and forth between the two sides of himself.

 

I also started to like Petronius more by this point. He was genuinely upset about the effect of Christianity on his nephew's state of mind.

Kerstin’s Reply and Comment:

Manny wrote: "I am surprised to find that we see the Christianity from an outsider’s perspective.”

Isn’t this the way most people encountered Christianity at the time? Very few at the time were born into the Christian faith. We get to discover and explore what is so special about the faith from the perspective of someone who truly has never encountered the Christian world view. That’s no small feat, since we’ve been so inculturated over the millennia we often no longer recognize many aspects of Western Culture originating in Christianity.

My Reply to Kerstin:

Yes, that is true and perhaps that is why Sienkiewicz wrote it that way. I was pondering if my approach to the subject would have gone that way. If I had sat down to write a novel where the early Christians are the subject I might have written it from the perspective of a Christian. The novel Ben-Hur is written from the perspective of a Jew who becomes Christian in Roman times. Sienkiewicz makes it work because Vinicius is so integrated into both worlds and converts over. If Sienkiewicz had written this from the perspective of say Petronius, for instance, I think it would have faced a lot of obstacles. I don't know if it then could have worked. You would not get a sympathetic view of the Christians.

Kerstin’s Reply:

Manny wrote: " If Sienkiewicz had written this from the perspective of say Petronius, for instance, I think it would have faced a lot of obstacles. I don't know if it then could have worked. You would not get a sympathetic view of the Christians."

I agree. Petronius has no reason to look at the Christians in any other way but as a group of people with strange and questionable beliefs. With Vinicius we have a young man in love who wants to know everything he can about Lygia and who she is. His heart is already open. When he finds out that the rumors peddled about the Christians are not true he is liberated to see and learn what this religion is all about.

Kerstin’s Comment:

The decadence at the feast at the pond of Agrippa was masterfully done. The whole affair is so over the top that one gets repulsed by it, and that is long before the lascivious events of the evening. 

###

Excerpt from Chapter 31, Nero’s floating feast on the Pond of Agrippa:

 

But the "floating feast" pleased Cæsar, for it was something new. Besides, such exquisite dishes were served that the imagination of Apicius would have failed at sight of them, and wines of so many kinds that Otho, who used to serve eighty, would have hidden under water with shame, could he have witnessed the luxury of that feast. Besides women, the Augustians sat down at the table, among whom Vinicius excelled all with his beauty. Formerly his figure and face indicated too clearly the soldier by profession; now mental suffering and the physical pain through which he had passed had chiselled his features, as if the delicate hand of a master had passed over them. His complexion had lost its former swarthiness, but the yellowish gleam of Numidian marble remained on it. His eyes had grown larger and more pensive. His body had retained its former powerful outlines, as if created for armor; but above the body of a legionary was seen the head of a Grecian god, or at least of a refined patrician, at once subtle and splendid. Petronius, in saying that none of the ladies of Cæsar's court would be able or willing to resist Vinicius, spoke like a man of experience. All gazed at him now, not excepting Poppæa, or the vestal virgin Rubria, whom Cæsar wished to see at the feast.

 

Wines, cooled in mountain snow, soon warmed the hearts and heads of the guests. Boats shaped as grasshoppers or butterflies shot forth from the bushes at the shore every moment. The blue surface of the pond seemed occupied by butterflies. Above the boats here and there flew doves, and other birds from India and Africa, fastened with silver and blue threads or strings. The sun had passed the greater part of the sky, but the day was warm and even hot, though in the beginning of May. The pond heaved from the strokes of oars, which beat the water in time with music; but in the air there was not the least breath of wind; the groves were motionless, as if lost in listening and in gazing at that which was happening on the water. The raft circled continually on the pond, bearing guests who were increasingly drunk and boisterous.

 

The feast had not run half its course yet, when the order in which all sat at the table was observed no longer. Cæsar gave the example, for, rising himself, he commanded Vinicius, who sat next to Rubria the vestal, to move. Nero occupied the place, and began to whisper something in Rubria's ear. Vinicius found himself next to Poppæa, who extended her arm and begged him to fasten her loosened bracelet. When he did so, with hands trembling somewhat, she cast at him from beneath her long lashes a glance as it were of modesty, and shook her golden head as if in resistance.

 

Meanwhile the sun, growing larger, ruddier, sank slowly behind the tops of the grove; the guests were for the greater part thoroughly intoxicated. The raft circled now nearer the shore, on which, among bunches of trees and flowers, were seen groups of people, disguised as fauns or satyrs, playing on flutes, bagpipes, and drums, with groups of maidens representing nymphs, dryads, and hamadryads. Darkness fell at last amid drunken shouts from the tent, shouts raised in honor of Luna. Meanwhile the groves were lighted with a thousand lamps. From the lupanaria on the shores shone swarms of lights; on the terraces appeared new naked groups, formed of the wives and daughters of the first Roman houses. These with voice and unrestrained manner began to lure partners. The raft touched the shore at last. Cæsar and the Augustians vanished in the groves, scattered in lupanaria, in tents hidden in thickets, in grottos artificially arranged among fountains and springs. Madness seized all; no one knew whither Cæsar had gone; no one knew who was a senator, who a knight, who a dancer, who a musician. Satyrs and fauns fell to chasing nymphs with shouting. They struck lamps with thyrses to quench them. Darkness covered certain parts of the grove. Everywhere, however, laughter and shouts were heard, and whispers, and panting breaths. In fact Rome had not seen anything like that before.

A second excerpt from Chapter 33.  Vinicuis professes before Peter and Paul that he loves Lygia and is moved to the faith of Christ.  Vinicuis first speaks of his difficulties with Christianity.

 

He spoke with head erect and decisively; but still he was moved, and his legs trembled beneath his mantle. When silence followed his words, he continued, as if wishing to anticipate an unfavorable answer,—

 

"I know what obstacles exist, but I love her as my own eyes; and though I am not a Christian yet, I am neither your enemy nor Christ's. I wish to be sincere, so that you may trust me. At this moment it is a question of life with me, still I tell you the truth. Another might say, Baptize me; I say, Enlighten me. I believe that Christ rose from the dead, for people say so who love the truth, and who saw Him after death. I believe, for I have seen myself, that your religion produces virtue, justice, and mercy,—not crime, which is laid to your charge. I have not known your religion much so far. A little from you, a little from your works, a little from Lygia, a little from conversations with you. Still I repeat that it has made some change in me. Formerly I held my servants with an iron hand; I cannot do so now. I knew no pity; I know it now. I was fond of pleasure; the other night I fled from the pond of Agrippa, for the breath was taken from me through disgust. Formerly I believed in superior force; now I have abandoned it. Know ye that I do not recognize myself. I am disgusted by feasts, wine, singing, citharæ, garlands, the court of Cæsar, naked bodies, and every crime. When I think that Lygia is like snow in the mountains, I love her the more; and when I think that she is what she is through your religion, I love and desire that religion. But since I understand it not, since I know not whether I shall be able to live according to it, nor whether my nature can endure it, I am in uncertainty and suffering, as if I were in prison."

 

Here his brows met in wrinkle of pain, and a flush appeared on his cheeks; after that he spoke on with growing haste and greater emotion,—

 

"As ye see, I am tortured from love and uncertainty. Men tell me that in your religion there is no place for life, or human joy, or happiness, or law, or order, or authority, or Roman dominion. Is this true? Men tell me that ye are madmen; but tell me yourselves what ye bring. Is it a sin to love, a sin to feel joy, a sin to want happiness? Are ye enemies of life? Must a Christian be wretched? Must I renounce Lygia? What is truth in your view? Your deeds and words are like transparent water, but what is under that water? Ye see that I am sincere. Scatter the darkness. Men say this to me also: Greece created beauty and wisdom, Rome created power; but they—what do they bring? Tell, then, what ye bring. If there is brightness beyond your doors, open them."

 

"We bring love," said Peter.

 

And Paul of Tarsus added,—"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass."

 

But the heart of the old Apostle was stirred by that soul in suffering, which, like a bird in a cage, was struggling toward air and the sun; hence, stretching his hand to Vinicius, he said,—"Whoso knocketh, to him will be opened. The favor and grace of God is upon thee; for this reason I bless thee, thy soul and thy love, in the name of the Redeemer of mankind."

 

Vinicius, who had spoken with enthusiasm already, sprang toward Peter on hearing this blessing, and an uncommon thing happened. That descendant of Quirites, who till recently had not recognized humanity in a foreigner, seized the hand of the old Galilean, and pressed it in gratitude to his lips.

 

Peter was pleased; for he understood that his sowing had fallen on an additional field, that his fishing-net had gathered in a new soul.

 

Those present, not less pleased by that evident expression of honor for the Apostle of God, exclaimed in one voice,—"Praise to the Lord in the highest!"

The novel is far better than any of the movies.  

Sunday Meditation: The Son of Man Lifted Up

This week’s Gospel takes a turn from where to meet God (the desert, the mountain, the temple) to preparing us for the crucifixion and Holy Week events.  Today we have the famous conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, the elder Pharisee at the Temple.  The Gospel passage comes in mid conversation, but it would behoove you to read the previous thirteen lines of John, Chapter 3.  Here is only the Gospel reading.

 

Jesus said to Nicodemus:

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert,

so must the Son of Man be lifted up,

so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

 

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son,

so that everyone who believes in him might not perish

but might have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,

but that the world might be saved through him.

Whoever believes in him will not be condemned,

but whoever does not believe has already been condemned,

because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

And this is the verdict,

that the light came into the world,

but people preferred darkness to light,

because their works were evil.

For everyone who does wicked things hates the light

and does not come toward the light,

so that his works might not be exposed.

But whoever lives the truth comes to the light,

so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

~Jn 3:14-21

This week, Bishop Barron has the best homily. 

 

In listening to Bishop Barron, it dawned on me why we Catholics put a crucifix up in the sanctuary of every church, and why we put crucifixes in our homes.  I remember a Protestant woman asking this once.  She said Protestants emphasize the Resurrection, and so the cross should not have the corpus on it.  I responded that the crucifixion shows our redemption and the love Christ showed for us, and that is true.  In the future I think I should add to this analogy that Christ makes Himself, that is, just as the bronze serpent was raised in desert that saved the Jews, Christ raised on the cross saves us!

Meditation: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”