There's a great front page story in this week's Concord Journal on the restoration of the Pieta on the green next to the rectory in Monument Square. Click on the link for the story and another picture. The photo above is worth studying. While Miro was working on the statue, he invited me to climb up on the staging platform to view of the sculpture as you see it here. Apart from being at that height, only Mary has this privileged perspective on the Christ in her arms...
For previous posts and other photos, check here and here.
Local readers are familiar with the Pieta (above) located on the green to the side of the rectory. It bears the marks of a green mold and one of the fingers of the figure of Mary is missing. A generous parishioner has offered to have the statue professionally restored and work on this project began on the morning of September 12.
I am interested in knowing the origin of the statue, when it was placed on the green and who may have given the statue to the parish. Any information you have would be helpful. I will continue to update you on the progress of this work which, weather permitting, should take about three weeks.
Homily for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ Scripturesfor today's Mass Audio
No small amount of effort goes into
making our Sunday worship,
a reverent, gracious, prayerful moment of beauty,
worthy of our God whom we’ve gathered to thank and praise.
Keyboardists and cantors and choirs
rehearse what they’re going to play and
sing.
Lectors spend time rehearsing their
readings.
I spend time preparing my homily.
The sacristans are here before Mass,
setting up
and getting everything ready for the
liturgy.
Much time and effort goes into
preparing a worship service
that is as beautiful and uplifting and
well done as possible.
And yet…at the heart of our celebration,
-
every single week - something gets broken and something is spilled.
At the heart of our prayer every Sunday
is the broken Body of a Victim
whose blood has been spilled, shed, for
us…
At the heart of our Sunday prayer is
Jesus…
Am I referring the image of the
Crucified on the Cross
that hovers over our prayer every week?
Well, that, too - but my primary
reference is to
the broken Body of Christ whose Blood
is spilled for us
in the Bread and Cup of the Eucharist.
I’m reminded here of Michelangelo’s great
sculpture, the Pieta.
Think of Michelangelo's great sculpture, the Pieta.
Think of the Mary, the mother of Jesus,
holding the body of her crucified son in her lap and her arms.
Picture the intimacy of that image...
Better yet, after Mass this morning
walk across the street
to our parish Pieta on the green next
to the rectory.
See how Mary holds Jesus in her arms.
That’s what you and I do here, each week:
we hold Christ in our hands, not carved
in marble,
but in the Bread and Cup,
in the flesh and blood of Jesus in the
Eucharist.
With tenderness, we hold the broken Body of Christ close to our hearts.
But more than hold him, we receive him,
we receive the gift of the Lord’s
brokenness
into our own brokenness:
we receive Christ into the brokenness of our sins,
who doesn’t bring some brokenness today
to the Body of Christ broken for us?
We who are broken come to the One who was broken for our sakes,
to share in this simple bread, broken in his memory,
that our brokenness might be healed.
We come to drink from the cup so that his Blood, shed for us,
might transfuse our weakness and hopelessness
and spill like a river of life coursing through the veins of our souls
with grace and healing.
The Eucharist invites us with our broken hearts
into the heart of Jesus, broken for us.
The Eucharist invites us, in our thirst, to drink in
the Blood of the heart of the Lamb of God,spilled for us.
In Communion with the Body and Blood of
Christ and with one another
we find ourselves drawn into the heart of Jesus
and into his mercy and peace.
Isn’t this why, when we enter this holy place, this church,
where the Sacrament is already reserved in the tabernacle,
isn’t this why we keep a reverent quiet in such a presence,
and genuflect or bow before taking our own seats?
Isn’t this why we listen attentively to the scripture readings
in which the One who will feed us with the Supper of the Eucharist
first nourishes us with the wisdom of his Word?
Isn’t this why at Communion time we approach the altar
with deep reverence in our attitude and posture,
reverence for the Sacrament we’re about to receive?
Isn’t this why we don’t "eat and run" at the Lord’s Table,
exiting the church with the true food and drink
of Christ’s own Body and Blood still fresh on our lips?
Isn’t that why we pause, and pray, and sing
in communion with his Body, the people of the church,
the Body of Christ gathered all around us?
Isn’t this why, when our prayer is done
and it is time to leave,
we must remember that, nourished by the
Body and Blood of Christ,
we are called to break ourselves open
and pour ourselves out
in service of one another, near and
far.
spending ourselves for others just as
he asked us to do
in memory ofhim?
Isn’t this why we’re called to remember
that we are to become what we eat and drink?
Hundreds of years ago, in the 4th century, St. Augustine said it
oh-so-well
when he wrote these words:
What
you see (on the altar) is the bread and the chalice;
that is what your own eyes report to you.
But what your faith obliges you to accept
is that the bread is the Body of Christ,
and the chalice the Blood of Christ…
How is the bread his Body?
And the chalice, or what is in the chalice, how is it his Blood?
These elements, brothers and sisters, are called sacraments,
because in them one thing is seen, but another is understood.
What is seen is the corporeal species,
but what is understood is the spiritual fruit…
You
are the Body of Christ and his members.
If,
therefore, you are the Body of Christ
then
your own mystery is presented at the table of the Lord,
you receive your mystery.
To that which you are, you answer: `Amen...'
For you hear: `The Body of Christ!' and you answer: `Amen!'
Be, then, a member of Christ's Body,
so that your `Amen' may be the truth."
In an earlier post I wrote of the work on the restoration of the Pieta on the lawn next to the rectory. A picture here gives you a good sense of before. The picture above is of a work in progress but gives a preliminary indication of just how beautiful after is going to be.
For more information and great pictures of the work being done, please visit parishioner Robin Masi's site - very much worth checking it out!
This icon by Aidan Hart is titled, The Mother of God and Savior.
Notice that although Jesus is imaged as as a child, his muscularity and
strength are beyond his years. At the same time, Mary is rendered as
great, indeed large enough to be the Mother of God. A similar contrast in proportion is at work in the familiar Pieta where the figure of Mary is much larger than the Christ she holds in her lap. (Click on the images for larger versions.)
Pieta by Michelangelo
January 1 is the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God on the liturgical calendar. On the civil calendar it is New Year's Day. It is also the World Day of Peace and Pope Francis' message for that observance can be found here. The scriptures for this day are unusually brief passages. You can take a look at them here.
This icon by Aidan Hart is titled, The Mother of God and Savior.
Notice that although Jesus is imaged as as a child, his muscularity and
strength are beyond his years. At the same time, Mary is rendered as
great, indeed large enough to be the Mother of God. A similar contrast in proportion is at work in the familiar Pieta where the figure of Mary is much larger than the Christ she holds in her lap. (Click on the images for larger versions.)
Pieta by Michelangelo
January 1 is the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God on the liturgical calendar. On the civil calendar it is New Year's Day. It is also the World Day of Peace and Pope Francis' message for that observance can be found here. The scriptures for this day are unusually brief passages. You can take a look at them here.
And here's a beautiful video and song along this theme of Mary, Mother of Christ, Mother of God, Mother of us all.
(In the song, the word THEOTOKOS is Greek for God-bearer)
Homily for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Scripturesfor today's liturgy)
Audio for homily
No small amount of effort goes into making our Sunday worship,
a reverent, gracious, prayerful moment of beauty,
worthy of our God whom we’ve gathered to thank and praise.
And yet, at the heart of this weekly celebration
there is something broken, something spilled:
the broken body of a victim
whose blood has been spilled, shed for us…
I’m referring not only to the large crucifix
that hovers over our prayer every week,
but more to the broken Body of Christ
and his Blood poured out for us
in the bread and cup of the Eucharist.
Think of Michelangelo's great sculpture, the Pieta.
Think of the Mary, the mother of Jesus,
holding the body of her crucified son in her lap and her arms.
Picture the pathos, the tenderness, the intimacy of that image...
That is what we do here, each week, not in marble,
but in bread and wine, in flesh and blood.
With tenderness, we hold the broken Body of Christ close to our hearts
consuming his presence, in thanksgiving for his great love for us.
As individuals and as the whole church
we receive the gift of the Lord’s brokenness into our own:
into the brokenness of our sins,
into our broken hearts, broken memories, broken promises,
broken spirits, broken relationships, broken bodies,
into our broken hopes and dreams.
Is there anyone among us who does not bring some brokenness today
to the Body of Christ broken for us?
We who are broken come to the One who was broken for our sakes,
to share in this simple bread, broken in his memory,
that our brokenness might be healed.
We come to drink from a cup so that his Blood, shed for us,
might transfuse our weakness and hopelessness
and spill like a river of life coursing through the veins of our souls
with grace and healing.
The Eucharist invites us with our broken hearts
into the heart of Jesus, broken for us.
The Eucharist invites us, in our thirst, to drink in,
to be bathed in the Blood of the heart of the Lamb of God,
spilled for us.
In Communion with the Body and Blood of Christ and with one another
we find ourselves drawn into the heart of Jesus
and into his mercy and peace.
Is it any wonder then that when we enter this holy place, this church,
where the Sacrament is reserved in the tabernacle,
that we keep a reverent quiet in such a presence,
that we genuflect or bow before taking our own seats?
Could we do any less than listen attentively to the scripture readings
in which the One who will feed us with the Supper of the Eucharist
first nourishes us with the wisdom of his Word?
At Communion time would we approach the altar
with anything but deep reverence in our attitude and posture,
reverence for the Sacrament we’re about to receive?
Would any of us dare to "eat and run" at the Lord’s Table,
exiting the church with the true food and drink
of Christ’s own Body and Blood still fresh on our lips?
Would we not pause, and pray, and sing
in communion with his Body, the people of the church,
gathered all around us?
And when our prayer is done,
when it's time to take our leave, do we remember that
then nourished by the broken Body of Christ
and by his Blood poured out in mercy for us,
then we are called to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out
in service of one another, near and far:
doing for others what he did for us,
what he asked us to do in memory of him?
Do we remember that we are to become what we eat and drink?
Hundreds of years ago St. Augustine said it oh-so-well
when he wrote these words:
"What you see (on the altar) is the bread and the chalice;
that is what your own eyes report to you.
But what your faith obliges you to accept
is that the bread is the Body of Christ
and the chalice the Blood of Christ…
How is the bread his Body?
And the chalice, or what is in the chalice, how is it his Blood?
These elements, brothers and sisters, are called sacraments,
because in them one thing is seen, but another is understood.
What is seen is the corporeal species,
but what is understood is the spiritual fruit…
St. Paul wrote:
'You are the Body of Christ and his members.' (1 Cor. 12:27)
If, therefore, you are the Body of Christ and his members,
then your own mystery is presented at the table of the Lord,
you receive your mystery.
To that which you are, you answer: `Amen...'
For you hear: `The Body of Christ!' and you answer: `Amen!'
Be, then, a member of Christ's Body,
so that your `Amen' may be the truth."
Pieta on the grounds of Holy Family Parish, Concord: photo by Ellen Bullock, for a Concord Journal report on the restoration of this statue.
September 15 is the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. Follow the link for some background on this liturgical day.
What are Mary's seven sorrows?
The Seven Sorrows (or Dolors) are events in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary which are a popular devotion and are frequently depicted in art.
The Prophecy of Simeon over the Infant Jesus (Luke 2:34)
The Flight into Egypt of the Holy Family (Matthew 2:13)
The Loss of the Child Jesus for three days (Luke 2:43)
The Meeting of Jesus and Mary along the Way of the Cross (Luke 23:26)
The Crucifixion where Mary stands at the foot of the cross. (John 19:25)
The Descent from the Cross where Mary receives the dead body of Jesus in her arms. (Matthew 27:57)
The Burial of Jesus. (John 19:40)
From one of the options for today's Gospel at Mass:
Jesus’ father and mother were amazed at what was said about him;and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother,“Behold, this child is destinedfor the fall and rise of many in Israel,and to be a sign that will be contradictedand you yourself a sword will pierceso that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” Luke 2:33-35
(On the Saturdays of this holy season, our attention to the psalms will give way to praying with Mary, the Mother of Jesus and Mother of us all...)
In this season of Lent when we contemplate the suffering and death of Jesus, let us to draw close to his Mother and ours, Mary, whose own suffering and witness of her Son's passion was more than we can imagine.
As she stood by her Son in his suffering, so is she with us in our own hours of need...
A Marianist Litany to Mary
Holy Mary,
pray for us!
Mother of God,
Mother of our redemption,
Mother of a lost child,
Mother of comfort and understanding,
Mother who shares our joys,
Mother who endures our sorrows,
Mother whose heart was pierced by a sword,
Mother most merciful,
Woman responsive to God's word,
pray for us!
Woman willing to believe the impossible,
Woman who rejoices in her lowliness,
Woman with an undivided heart,
Woman of perfect freedom,
Woman wrapped in mystery,
Woman moved by the Spirit,
Woman champion of the poor and lowly,
Woman graced by a husband's love,
Woman widowed by a husband's death,
Woman at the cross,
Woman patient and waiting,
Woman clothed with the sun,
Queen of the fullness of times,
pray for us!
Queen of beauty unalloyed,
Queen of integrity,
Queen of painful meetings,
Queen of all our heart's treasure,
Queen of our destiny,
Queen of peace,
Mary, you are mother and virgin,
wife and widow,
peasant and queen,
blessed for all time.
We need the comfort of your prayers.
Remember us always to our Father through your Son, Jesus Christ,
who is our Lord for ever and ever.
Amen.
(Click on the image above for a larger version of the Dali)
(On the Saturdays of this holy season, our attention to the psalms will give way to praying with Mary, the Mother of Jesus and Mother of us all...)
In this season of Lent when we contemplate the suffering and death of Jesus, let us to draw close to his Mother and ours, Mary, whose own suffering and witness of her Son's passion was more than we can imagine.
As she stood by her Son in his suffering, so is she with us in our own hours of need...
A Marianist Litany to Mary
Holy Mary,
pray for us!
Mother of God,
Mother of our redemption,
Mother of a lost child,
Mother of comfort and understanding,
Mother who shares our joys,
Mother who endures our sorrows,
Mother whose heart was pierced by a sword,
Mother most merciful,
Woman responsive to God's word,
pray for us!
Woman willing to believe the impossible,
Woman who rejoices in her lowliness,
Woman with an undivided heart,
Woman of perfect freedom,
Woman wrapped in mystery,
Woman moved by the Spirit,
Woman champion of the poor and lowly,
Woman graced by a husband's love,
Woman widowed by a husband's death,
Woman at the cross,
Woman patient and waiting,
Woman clothed with the sun,
Queen of the fullness of times,
pray for us!
Queen of beauty unalloyed,
Queen of integrity,
Queen of painful meetings,
Queen of all our heart's treasure,
Queen of our destiny,
Queen of peace,
Mary, you are mother and virgin,
wife and widow,
peasant and queen,
blessed for all time.
We need the comfort of your prayers.
Remember us always to our Father through your Son, Jesus Christ,
Daniel Bonnell is one of my favorite contemporary sacred artists and I've used his work on my page here several times. A new exhibit of his work opens on this Good Friday at Saint Matthew Cathedral in Laramie, Wyoming. It's titled Dying Sorrowand includes Two Thieves (15 studies of Christ and the two thieves on Calvary); Pieta Meditation; and First Moment of the Resurrection.
I'm going to spend some time on Good Friday praying with these powerful Bonnell's powerful paintings and invite you to do the same. In addition to the images, spend a few moments reading his two brief essays: why he paints on grocery bag paper and his reflection on discovering beauty.
Homily for the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ (Scriptures for today's Mass) Audio for homily
I begin with something that may sound like
the introduction
to some weekly crime show on television.
I begin by reminding you that
at the heart of what we do here every week,
there is a body;
there is a broken body:
a victim, an innocent victim,
whose blood has been shed – for us.
Of course, there is, in the heart of our
sanctuary, a large crucifix,
with the broken body of Jesus hovering over our prayer.
But I’m speaking more about the broken body of Christ we find
in the Bread of the Eucharist on the altar.
I’m speaking of his Blood spilled for us, some 2,000 years ago,
and now found in the chalice we place on this
altar.
Here’s another image of the broken Jesus to
ponder.
Think of Michelangelo's great sculpture, the Pieta.
Think of the Mary, the mother of Jesus, holding in her lap, in her arms
the broken body of her crucified son.
Ponder the tenderness, the intimacy of that
image...
What Mary’s doing in the sculpture,
we do here every Sunday morning:
with tender reverence, we hold the body of Christ in our hands,
and in an intimate gesture, we not only hold
but we consume his presence,
we take his great love for us into our own bodies
when we receive Communion.
• We approach the gift of the Lord’s broken
body
with our own brokenness:
we are broken individuals, we are a broken
parish,
ours is a broken Church, we live in a broken
world.
• We come here every weekend with:
broken hearts, broken memories, broken promises, broken spirits,
broken relationships, broken bodies, broken hopes
and broken dreams.
Is there anyone among us who does not bring
some brokenness today
to the broken body of Christ?
We, the broken, come to the one who was
broken for our sakes,
to share in the simple bread we break in his memory
- all in hope that our brokenness might be
healed.
We come to drink from the cup, so that
his blood, shed for us,
might transfuse our weakness and helplessness
and course through our hearts and veins
with the promise of healing and new life.
Every time we celebrate the Eucharist,
when we literally lift up the Body and Blood of Christ,
we lift up in him the brokenness in our own
lives
and in the lives of our brother and sisters
in our families and community, at work and at school,
in our nation and around the whole world.
I know the brokenness I carry this morning to
the Lord’s Table.
What brokenness did you bring to church
today?
What’s in need of healing and mending in your
life?
Whatever it is,the
Lord is no stranger to it,
no stranger to our pain and sorrow,
he knows well the hurt of a broken body, a
broken spirit.
His presence in the Eucharist has for its
purpose
what was his work of the cross:
the forgiveness of sins,
the healing of broken hearts and bodies,
and the promise of peace.
Imagine how much each of us, in our own
broken lives,needs
the nourishment, the healing, the forgiveness
that is offered us in the Eucharist at the
Lord’s Table.
Come with your own brokenness to the Lord’s
Table today.
I know I come with mine.
Come with hearts open
to the grace, the help that’s ours in
Communion with Christ
and with one another.
Come with prayers for our brothers and
sisters around the world
Click on the bible above, then scroll down for this coming weekend's readings and some brief, helpful commentary.
A foolish man preaches on wisdom...
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