Liturgical Texts: May 2008 Archives

Entrance Antiphon

MR/GR
Pity me, Lord, as thou seest me friendless and forlorn.
Quit my heart of its burden, deliver me from my distress.
Restless and forlorn, I claim thy pity,
to my sins be merciful.
V. All my heart goes out to thee, O Lord my God.
Belie not the trust I have inthee,
let not my enemies boast of my downfall.
(Ps 24: 16–18, trans. Msgr. Ronald Knox)

Collect

O God, whose never-failing providence
sets in order all things both in heaven and on earth;
put away from us, we entreat you, all hurtful things,
and give us all that will be for our good.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

The blessing of roses takes place at the end of Mass on the feast of Saint Rita. It recalls an episode in the life of the Saint of Desperate Causes. In January 1457 Saint Rita, lying ill in her monastic cell in Cascia, asked a cousin to bring her a rose. Tradition affirms that God granted this desire: Saint Rita’s relatives were able to pick for her a rose found blooming amidst the winter snow. In exchange for the thorn in her forehead that she bore for fifteen years as a sign of her participation in the redeeming Passion of Jesus, Saint Rita was miraculously given a rose in winter.

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.
R. Who made heaven and earth.

O God, whose word sanctifies all things,
pour forth your blessing + upon these roses
that we present to you in memory of Saint Rita,
and grant that whosoever makes use of them with devotion,
may by the merits of the passion and resurrection of your Son,
receive from your goodness
comfort and health in sickness,
and constancy in following your Son
with gratitude along the way of the Cross.
Through Christ our Lord.

The roses are sprinkled with Holy Water.

The antiphon Ad Benedictus this morning, with its lilting seventh mode melody, is an apt portrayal of the manifestation of the Holy Spirit in the life of Saint Pachomius. The text is Isaiah 35:1.

Laetabitur deserta et exsultabit solitudo et florebit sicut lilium, alleluia.

Thrills the barren desert with rejoicing, the wilderness takes heart, and blossoms, fair as the lily, alleluia.

Julian Green had a book entitled "Chaque homme dans sa nuit," — Each Man in His Night; one might also speak of "each man in his desert." Irrigated by the living water of the Holy Spirit life's deserts become gardens, and joy comes to inhabit the solitudes of the heart.

The Collect is a jewel:

Deus, qui beatum Pacomium abbatem
ad doctrinae virtutumque culmina pervenire fecisti,
concede, quaesumus, ut eius exemplo,
panem Verbi tui primum quaeramus
a quo mentes lumen accipunt et corda quietem.

O God, who raised the blessed abbot Pachomius
to the heights of doctrine and of virtue,
grant that we, by following his example,
may seek before all else the bread of your Word
from which our minds receive light and our hearts stillness.

— Or, one may want to render that last line, "by which our minds are illumined and our hearts quieted."

The example of the Desert Fathers, of desert-dwellers, of hermits, and of monks speaks to all of us. There is no desert that cannot be reclaimed for Christ; there is no barrenness that cannot be made fertile by the action of the Holy Spirit. I am reminded of the words of Pope Benedict XVI to the young people and seminarians at Dunwoodie, New York, on the evening of Saturday, April 19th:

"There is another aspect of prayer which we need to remember: silent contemplation. Saint John, for example, tells us that to embrace God’s revelation we must first listen, then respond by proclaiming what we have heard and seen (cf. 1 Jn 1:2-3; Dei Verbum, 1). Have we perhaps lost something of the art of listening? Do you leave space to hear God’s whisper, calling you forth into goodness? Friends, do not be afraid of silence or stillness, listen to God, adore him in the Eucharist. Let his word shape your journey as an unfolding of holiness."