Let Quarrels Die

There has been an unhappy run-in between friends of my acquaintance.

May I suggest that the only one pleased by such division is, not Christ, but Satan?

(I say this as a sinner who has himself a nasty temper.)

Prayer is in order: as Aquinas says, in his Catena Aurea (quoting St Augustine on John 13:14; and cf. James 5:16a), may we wash one another’s feet by confessing our faults one to another, forgiving one another’s faults, and praying for one another’s faults.

Ubi caritas comes to mind, and my favourite English version thereof:

R.  Ubi caritas et amor Deus ibi est.

V.  Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.

V.  Exsultemus et in ipso jucundemur.

V.  Timeamus et amemus Deum vivum.

V.  Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.

R.  Ubi caritas et amor Deus ibi est.

V.  Simul ergo cum in unum congregamur:

V.  Ne nos mente dividamur, caveamus.

V.  Cessent jurgia maligna, cessent lites.

V.  Et in medio nostri sit Christus Deus.

R.  Ubi caritas et amor Deus ibi est.

V.  Simul quoque cum beatis videamus

V.  Glorianter vultum tuum, Christe Deus:

V.  Gaudium, quod est immensum atque probum.

V.  Saecula per infinita saeculorum.

R.  Ubi caritas et amor Deus ibi est.

Antiphon: Where there is charity and love,

there the God of love abides.

1. The love of Christ has gathered us as one, 

Rejoice in him with joy which he imparts; 

Let us revere and love the living God 

And love each other with unfeigning hearts. Antiphon.

2. And so when we are gathered here as one, 

Let quarrels die and envious rancour cease; 

Be our resolve all bitterness to shun 

And in our midst be Christ, his love and peace. Antiphon.

3. Oh, lead us, Master, by your saving grace, 

To where the blessed glory in your sight; 

There let us see and love you face to face, 

Gathered once more in everlasting light. Antiphon.

An Irascible Hermit

An acquaintance of mine has asked me to link to and advertise his new blog, which I do with pleasure, especially because of its amusing name - Ruminations of an Irascible Hermit!

It appears that "Methodius" places his blogging under the patronage of the formidable St Jerome, known even as a fellow to be very carefully dealt with - Justin once told me of an hilarious reference to him in a contemporary Greek text, that basically says "Don't provoke him for God's sake!"; and I always recall how Jerome got stuck into, not merely his old friend Rufinus, but even disparaged Augustine (on the basis of a misunderstanding arising from letters to and from him having been mixed up) as "That Numidian bull-ant!"

LOL, I know I react like that all too often (as for example, when perforce at the Novus Ordo to fulfil my Sunday obligation, I read a really pestilently biassed smarmy article by some Jesuit using the feast of Christ the King as a pretext to attack the Church...)

Now Aquinas rightly tells that the irascible appetite is given to man, that by this faculty we be worked up against things harmful to us, so as we then will act to overcome them. "Be angry and sin not", but rather labour energetically to right wrongs, even fighting the good fight in the cause of all that is good and true.

The Psalmist goes on to say, "Repent ye in your chambers..." I always think of the many images of St Jerome in a cave (with or without the lion he tended to), beating his bare breast with a rock, doing penance and asking mercy for all the sins of his tongue, which the Apostle James terms a fire, a world of iniquity, setting on fire our lives, set on fire by hell! (iii, 6), with the which we curse men made in God's image (iii,9): for man's anger worketh not the justice of God (i, 20), and whoso thinketh himself religious, restraining not his tongue, his religion is vain (i, 26). Mea maxima culpa!

Ira Furor Brevis Est

This morning's Benedictus antiphon brought me to my senses, and so just before Mass I confessed that I had harboured harsh and cruel thoughts towards a priest, who I'd honestly wished to strike, and wished he were dead: compare that to the horror David felt at one who dared raise his hand against the Lord's anointed - as priests are.  

To-day's Gospel (St Matthew v, 20-24) for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost reminds us (and especially in my case, so appositely), as Father's sermon reiterated, that unless our justice exceed that of the Pharisees, we shall never enter the Kingdom of heaven; that it is woefully insufficient merely not to murder, if our hearts are full of murder, and our mouths curse.  

I must confess to all that I am the very stereotype of a harsh Traditionalist - proud like some Spaniard about holding to the minutiæ of the Faith and anxious about every whiff of heresy,  looking down my long nose at those I rashly judge, arrogant, and rude: lacking in charity.  

I wince thinking about the Pharisees, who said of the masses in their day that they were accursed and damned, but never sought to aid them nor had compassion upon them, whereas Our Lord's Sacred Heart felt so concerned with the lost sheep of the House of Israel, and ever is in love with all, showering graces upon hearts that maybe they will turn again and live.  

This Sunday, in the Collect, we pray that God may pour such affect of love into our hearts that we may love Him above, but also in, all things - for only then may we hope to attain His promises, which exceed every desire.  God grant me conversion of heart!

Stress

Work (on top of the very inconvenient loss of my wallet and contents) has been very stressful of late, and I am feeling quite off; to-morrow, at suggestion of others, I'm seeing my doctor and having a "mental health day".  

Ira furor brevis est: anger is a brief madness.  I have a short temper, but that is a passion I ought be overcoming by growing in virtue, bridling it and subjecting it to right reason, rather than slothfully taking the downward path.

"Man's anger worketh not the justice of God" (James i, 20), and such ire is a sure symptom of pride, the root of all evil, and enemy to Christian humility - which, after all, is but the recognition of our true, lowly place in the scheme of things; whereas to be puffed up with overestimated worth is a very madness. 

Please of your charity pray that I obtain the patience I need, since I should wish rather to be united with Christ upon His Cross than - mea maxima culpa - more securely nail Him to it.

Prayer against anger 

from the Cœleste Palmetum of Wilhelmus Nakatenus (1617-1682)

Should man reserveth anger for his fellow man and yet seek remedy from God? Should he that hath no mercy on one like himself entreat God for his own sins? Who shall obtain pardon for his sins? (Eccli 28:3-5) By these words Thou hast spoken to me though Thy servant Sirach, O Lord God. And after this dare I foster anger and hate against anyone? Spare me, O Lord, spare me of my malice and stubbornness in which I have persevered even unto now. From my soul I now overlook and forgive whatever anyone has done against me. I humbly beg Thee, O Lord, do not rebuke me in Thy fury, nor chastise me in Thine anger. (Ps 37:2) O how would that I be like the deaf who does not hear and the mute who does not speak (Ps 37:14) whenever my enemies rise up in force against me, and those who seek my soul use violence. (Cf. Ps 37:12c) Do not forsake me, O Lord my God, do not depart from me (Ps 37:22), for Thou art my patience. (Ps 70:5a)

Another collection of prayers I make use of is an old High Church Anglican compilation by Oldknow & Crake, as revised by Briscoe:  The Priest's Book of Private Devotion...

Against Anger

O Lord, who art slow to wrath, ready to pardon, and of great kindness, remove from me all causeless and immoderate anger, all pride and prejudice, and too much concern for the things of this world, all intemperate speeches and undue excitement.  Give me, O God, a mild, peaceable, and humble spirit, that, remembering my own infirmities, I may bear with those of others:... that I may think lowly of myself, and not be angry when others also think lowly of me: that I may be patient towards all men, gentle and easy to be entreated: that thou, for Christ's sake, mayst be so towards me.  Amen.