Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival

Hello, and welcome. We are a group of Catholic bloggers who gather weekly to share our best posts with each other. Join us to read and contribute if you like. Make sure that post links back to Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. Don’t forget to leave a link to your post on our host, at RAnn’s site, This, That and the Other Thing.

Here are my contributions from the past week:

Handmaiden to the King

Dialogue between Christ and a Muslim

Infant King Benign

Slide Show – Landscape Dreams Photo Contest

On Trial for Being a Catholic

My Shalom

My Shalom, My Shalom,
Reigning over the waters,
Conquering the watery depths,
Making clear,
Revealing by discernment
Benefactor or maleficence.

Quieted soul,
Ever vigilant heart,
Desirous of My Holy Body,
Gazing through the fiery flame
Serene against the tumult,
Drinking from the Chalice of My Blood,
Covenanted through my Sacred Cross,
Lifted high above the world
As I, Myself, pass as flaming brazier,
Between the broken pieces of your life.

My Shalom, My Shalom,
I call you
By My All Holy Name,
To dwell secure in Love.
Cost counted, chosen,
And placed in the balance.
Infinity pays the price
And tips the scale of Life to
Favor a son of God.

Copyright 2012. Joann Nelander

Rejoice!

Rejoice!

Give me, God,
This glad rejoicing.
I am like a beggar at the gate.
My rags declare my need.
My knock trumpets my desire.

Your courts are full
Of plentiful redemption.
Wine and the merriment
Of the forgiven,
Invite my humble footsteps.

Although I bring myself
To Your threshold,
I cannot enter in,
For Sin is an effrontery,
An open assault on Your Majesty.

All awaits Your mercy.
Heaven is silent before You.
Tears are now my only arraignment
The voice of Your messenger
The only hope in my wilderness.

The King, Himself,
Rises from His throne.
Crowns are cast down at His feet.
As the sun shines from His Being,
Mercy rays meet my eyes,
And melt my heart.

He draws near.
His hand is at the Gate
To let in the beggar and the multitude,
For I am not alone.
The nations,
In long suffering and sorrow,
Kneel with me.

He approaches.
He is near.
Wedding garments in place of our polluted rags,
Rings and sandals for prodigal feet.

He comes,
He comes mid glad rejoicing.
We need wait but a moment.
The Virgin is with Child,
And He has left His throne
To succor the poor of all the earth.

By Joann Nelander

For Fear Apart

Why apart? From the in-gathering, all embracing Mother Church you flee, to remain apart all the while, calling and yearning for your God.  You flee and I run after you, pursuing you at every turn, and twist and fall. I reach and you pull your hand away.  Why not stay?  My Body yearns for you. My members long to know you.

I wait upon your prayers with angels ready to dispatch.
O, Pardoned Soul, you seek your God in myriad ways, I am here, wedded to My Bride, always at her side. promised never to depart. You hold yourself apart.

You’ve built a chapel in your heart for others that play God,
I call and draw you by Love within the chapel of your heart.
You sigh as I tug at heart strings tight and taunt.  You resist Me for fear they’ll break. I woo, I’m told to wait.  You say you are not ready for Love’s music.

“Measure me Your Love,” you say.  “Give comfort, strength and sure supply, but do not on my ‘Yes’ rely.”

Perhaps the Bride, the Church, who bears My Word forth unto all centuries, has words you n’er obey, in dread fear of the “ought” you can not bear. You will your will be done on earth and choose to judge all heaven.   You want only love’s first glance, the sweet embrace and kiss upon the cheek, nothing too dear, nothing too deep.  It seems a bitter end, to lose yourself in giving all, O Measured One.

You know Love comes with a Cross, a Cross you fear to carry. You choose to stay apart and skirt the Cross. Alas, the world without has crosses, too.  They may come disguised in promised delight, but soon you’ll drag that empty dream uphill.  How long one longs and labors longingly and all alone beneath the weight of vanities profane,  I do not say. I only await a cry, a plea, glance of recognition.  When our eyes meet, then our hearts meet;  at long last your leap into the arms of One Who grasps you in your fall.

Be mine as Church joined to Husband.  At last the Lord of All can leap the walls you’ve built about yourself to know you now within His Sacred Heart, bearing your cross in His,making all things new and all your burdens light. Count now as joy life without measure.

Fear not my Church.   She is My Spouse, My very Body; I ,the Head.
I woo and wait,  now, as Groom upon the altar.  You must give yourself away.

 

by Joann Nelander

Church Doctrine Development -Not Alteration

An instruction by St Vincent of Lerins

The Development of Doctrine
Is there to be no development of religion in the Church of Christ? Certainly, there is to be development and on the largest scale.
Who can be so grudging to men, so full of hate for God, as to try to prevent it? But it must truly be development of the faith, not alteration of the faith. Development means that each thing expands to be itself, while alteration means that a thing is changed from one thing into another.
The understanding, knowledge and wisdom of one and all, of individuals as well as of the whole Church, ought then to make great and vigorous progress with the passing of the ages and the centuries, but only along its own line of development, that is, with the same doctrine, the same meaning and the same import.
The religion of souls should follow the law of development of bodies. Though bodies develop and unfold their component parts with the passing of the years, they always remain what they were. There is a great difference between the flower of childhood and the maturity of age, but those who become old are the very same people who were once young. Though the condition and appearance of one and the same individual may change, it is one and the same nature, one and the same person.
The tiny members of unweaned children and the grown members of young men are still the same members. Men have the same number of limbs as children. Whatever develops at a later age was already present in seminal form; there is nothing new in old age that was not already latent in childhood.
There is no doubt, then, that the legitimate and correct rule of development, the established and wonderful order of growth, is this: in older people the fullness of years always brings to completion those members and forms that the wisdom of the Creator fashioned beforehand in their earlier years.
If, however, the human form were to turn into some shape that did not belong to its own nature, or even if something were added to the sum of its members or subtracted from it, the whole body would necessarily perish or become grotesque or at least be enfeebled. In the same way, the doctrine of the Christian religion should properly follow these laws of development, that is, by becoming firmer over the years, more ample in the course of time, more exalted as it advances in age.
In ancient times our ancestors sowed the good seed in the harvest field of the Church. It would be very wrong and unfitting if we, their descendants, were to reap, not the genuine wheat of truth but the intrusive growth of error.
On the contrary, what is right and fitting is this: there should be no inconsistency between first and last, but we should reap true doctrine from the growth of true teaching, so that when, in the course of time, those first sowings yield an increase it may flourish and be tended in our day also.
*Development of doctrine is a term used by John Henry Newman and other theologians influenced by him to describe the way Catholic teaching has become more detailed and explicit over the centuries, while later statements of doctrine remain consistent with earlier statements.
“relied on an extensive study of early Church Fathers in tracing the elaboration or development of doctrine which he argued was in some way implicitly present in the Divine Revelation in Sacred Scripture and Tradition which was present from the beginnings of the Church.” (Wikipedia)

Medieval Lyrics to Mary the Dawn

 

Mary the Dawn, Christ the Perfect Day;
Mary the Gate, Christ the Heav’nly Way!
Mary the Root, Christ the Mystic Vine;
Mary the Grape, Christ the Sacred Wine!
Mary the Wheat-sheaf, Christ the Living Bread;
Mary the Rose-Tree, Christ the Rose Blood-red!
Mary the Font, Christ the Cleansing Flood;
Mary the Chalice, Christ the Saving Blood!
Mary the Temple, Christ the Temple’s Lord;
Mary the Shrine, Christ the God adored!
Mary the Beacon, Christ the Haven’s Rest;
Mary the Mirror, Christ the Vision Blest!
Mary the Mother, Christ the Mother’s Son.
Both ever blest while endless ages run.
Amen.