Eucharist = holocaust
It's no doubt "bad form" to criticize my own poem before you even read it, but I have to confess that this is not my favorite in poetic terms. Imagine reading it out loud in front of our new bishop; it does not have a good rhythm for oral interpretation.
But the thoughts were still worth expressing so I published it anyway...
The New and Everlasting Covenant
You are always coming, veiling Yourself for us
In elements unworthy of the Godhead,
that we might look on You and live.
Remaining in Your changeless heaven has never been enough
For a King whose very essence is to give.
You once clothed Your glory in earth’s clay,
Hid infinite riches in abject poverty
and Your subjection of all things in meek submission;
Under cold cover of night brought forth the glorious break of day,
In brutal death brought Eden’s Promise to fruition.
But we were looking elsewhere, wanting more,
Even the friends You chose did not see clear;
believing they saw the gardener or a ghost,
Or a fisherman preparing breakfast on a familiar shore;
And we neglect to see You in the host.
Here, the unblemished Lamb, only light of Paradise,
Thrice-holy God, Victim King,
by every saint and angel now adored,
The gentle Way, inescapable Truth, the Wisdom of the wise,
Hidden in a form so easily ignored.
Untiring surge of Love, Lord of our sinful hearts,
The Shekinah, source of every grace,
here with us with compassionate restraint.
Not a relic, nor mere bread, but Your entire living Self to us impart,
And in silent ceaseless prayer You wait.
How can we then receive in Heaven
More than You offer us here on earth?
You give the whole of You without reserve;
As freely offered bond of love, You give new life to leaven
Without considering what we truly deserve.
Here You are closer to us than heat to fire
All the boundless God miraculously ours –
Your self-donation and Your mercy, Your holy Heart of peace,
Your longing to give Yourself exceeding our desire,
Perfect sacrifice offered without cease.
The burden of Your prayer in every place
The same as it has always been:
that all be one in You to the glory of the Father;
You draw us near to contemplate Your Eucharistic Face
And thus unite us, with You and with each other.
Will we wholly embrace the spirit of this Feast?
Allow the vibration of faith to move the will
to freely choose the utter fullness we profess?
Will we welcome the unwelcome and embrace the weak, the least,
Offer them their portion of this Bread we break and bless?
Can we drink from your cup, offer self as holocaust,
Freely pour our very lives out for each other,
making room within us for new wine?
Will we join our impoverished suffering to Your victorious cross,
And assent to be transformed in the Body we enshrine?
Fro here within us is the Kingdome of Your reign;
A reflection of Your life of Trinity
in which we now mutually abide
If we keep vigil, with lanterns we attentively sustain,
For the Bridegroom ever coming to His bride.
Rising Sun, Risen One, create all mankind anew,
In Your true Body build up the new City of God
and grant every soul rebirth,
Removing all that divides heart from heart and hearts from you,
Granting a foretaste of the New Heaven and New Earth.
“Behold, I am with you always.”
It's no doubt "bad form" to criticize my own poem before you even read it, but I have to confess that this is not my favorite in poetic terms. Imagine reading it out loud in front of our new bishop; it does not have a good rhythm for oral interpretation.
But the thoughts were still worth expressing so I published it anyway...
The New and Everlasting Covenant
You are always coming, veiling Yourself for us
In elements unworthy of the Godhead,
that we might look on You and live.
Remaining in Your changeless heaven has never been enough
For a King whose very essence is to give.
You once clothed Your glory in earth’s clay,
Hid infinite riches in abject poverty
and Your subjection of all things in meek submission;
Under cold cover of night brought forth the glorious break of day,
In brutal death brought Eden’s Promise to fruition.
But we were looking elsewhere, wanting more,
Even the friends You chose did not see clear;
believing they saw the gardener or a ghost,
Or a fisherman preparing breakfast on a familiar shore;
And we neglect to see You in the host.
Here, the unblemished Lamb, only light of Paradise,
Thrice-holy God, Victim King,
by every saint and angel now adored,
The gentle Way, inescapable Truth, the Wisdom of the wise,
Hidden in a form so easily ignored.
Untiring surge of Love, Lord of our sinful hearts,
The Shekinah, source of every grace,
here with us with compassionate restraint.
Not a relic, nor mere bread, but Your entire living Self to us impart,
And in silent ceaseless prayer You wait.
How can we then receive in Heaven
More than You offer us here on earth?
You give the whole of You without reserve;
As freely offered bond of love, You give new life to leaven
Without considering what we truly deserve.
Here You are closer to us than heat to fire
All the boundless God miraculously ours –
Your self-donation and Your mercy, Your holy Heart of peace,
Your longing to give Yourself exceeding our desire,
Perfect sacrifice offered without cease.
The burden of Your prayer in every place
The same as it has always been:
that all be one in You to the glory of the Father;
You draw us near to contemplate Your Eucharistic Face
And thus unite us, with You and with each other.
Will we wholly embrace the spirit of this Feast?
Allow the vibration of faith to move the will
to freely choose the utter fullness we profess?
Will we welcome the unwelcome and embrace the weak, the least,
Offer them their portion of this Bread we break and bless?
Can we drink from your cup, offer self as holocaust,
Freely pour our very lives out for each other,
making room within us for new wine?
Will we join our impoverished suffering to Your victorious cross,
And assent to be transformed in the Body we enshrine?
Fro here within us is the Kingdome of Your reign;
A reflection of Your life of Trinity
in which we now mutually abide
If we keep vigil, with lanterns we attentively sustain,
For the Bridegroom ever coming to His bride.
Rising Sun, Risen One, create all mankind anew,
In Your true Body build up the new City of God
and grant every soul rebirth,
Removing all that divides heart from heart and hearts from you,
Granting a foretaste of the New Heaven and New Earth.
“Behold, I am with you always.”
posted by KathrynTherese at 3:49 PM
22 Comments:
You're right.. this is not you. It is more factual than your beautiful flowing poetry. It could've come from Thomas A. I hope I can say this well: Never again write for a certain audience--just address your every word to your Beloved. Let it zing, let it raise eyebrows. That is a full respiration, yours and His, and that's what your poetry is.. life-filled. Don't hobble yourself, nor limit you or Him to acceptable confines. Christ-oriented passion may lose you the credence of one or two stuffed albs, God love them all, but it may just make Christ blink with delight.
Well said, Carol.
There are a few lines that still ring clear and true for me, and the people who asked me to write it (and told me what to include) were pleased, so it served its purpose.
I've thought about grabbing a few snippets and rewriting the poem around them. Like:
"If we keep vigil, with lanterns we attentively sustain,
For the Bridegroom ever coming to His bride."
or
"Removing all that divides heart from heart and hearts from you,"
but overall, the thing limps.
Every line rings clear and true, oh, every line! It could be a prayer in the front of our Missals.. perhaps it should be-- just before the spot that tells why non-Catholics should not come up to receive Him at Holy Communion time.. why there is such preparation needed first.
It is beautiful in its own way, like the cot beside which Max Kolbe prayed each morn. It is a hymn, and you are the one who should've been named Carol.
:-)
That which has been written, has been written! If it's been done, there must be a purpose for it, and God knows what it will be!
Did they make the suggestions before, or did you have to go through "editing"?
Well, someone did preview it and make suggestions, but I take the blame for what it is. It says something - it just doesn't say it as forcefully or clearly as I'd have wished. But that fact only suggests that I will have to write another.
In truth, I prefer shorter bursts of poetry, except for one long one I wrote in one long breath and which I have included in two of the books: Gift. It still says so much to me.
Still, I think the ideas expressed in this one are true enough for prompting discussion, and this poem has fed many a conversation -
on God's continual gift of Himself,
His hiddenness ("truly with you God is hidden!"),
our blindness,
the comprehensiveness of His Presence in the Eucharist,
the ceaseless sacrifice of Christ on our behalf,
God's desire for our unity, the need to bring the truth of the Eucharist to the street,
the invitation to become oblation, the reality of His Kingdom being established within us rather than as a political reality, etc.
So, I said much of what I wanted to say, and many people were grateful for it. But I'd still like to say it better ;-)
Meanwhile, we're talking about how we become what we eat...
I don't think you need to take any "blame". I don't think poetry is a work of art one can commission, like a sculpture or a painting. Poets ride on the wave of the inspiration of a moment, and for this reason their work is at first glance more fragile than a more concrete object produced by other types of artists. But the written word will stay in the mind much more easily than a detail of any famous painting. Even in sculpture, if you think of the Pietà, you imagine the overall piece of art, but can you remember the details? Poetry is different. Even one word of a poem, put next to the particular other word can stick with you and a zillion reflections can be generated by those words. They should have given you more time to work up the inspiration. Anyway, yes, it means that you can always write another one, but all in all, I find much food for thought in this one. So it has served God's purpose anyway, right?
Ah, that's it, that is what is different in this poem. Kathryn usually paints an ezquisite portrait of a loving soul before the Lord, and unlike you, FMN, I remember visual details, i.e., Caravaggio's Thomas exploring Christ's sword wound, far more than word, and words can indeed paint.. Oh Kathryn, I have no right to agree that this limps, because as a testimony, it does not. But I may have an obligation to my sister who is stunning poetess to confirm that she, as His, even when commissioned, erase all potential eyes but His, as she knits Lovable and Loving bone and flesh for Him and for us.
kt, some of your points here touch directly on what I have been reflecting on lately. The invitation to become oblation can be accepted and carried out in many different ways in a person's life, and this is something that is quite difficult to explain to those who will only recognize the validity of (or at least primarily, the validity of) a life devoted to exterior works. Just as God is hidden from us, the way in which we "take the Eucharist to the streets" can be hidden; just as Christ makes His ceaseless sacrifice, there are those who also make a ceaseless sacrifice in unity with Him, but it is not "out there" for all the world to see. Even their exterior works, done with compassion and with the desire to live the gospel, are performed quietly, and often anonymously. There are those who refuse to accept the reality of this, or perhaps are not aware of it, or do not understand it. But my heart breaks that they cast judgment on others, or presume to tell everyone what they should be doing, just because they themselves are called to a particular exterior way. Both ways are needed in this world, but I have been saddened, particularly in recent months, to see, everywhere around me, people trying to force their own calling upon others.
You're right Gabrielle, and it's probably something I myself have contributed to, but of course one of the greatest saints in all the world for all time did not leave the convent, and died at 24. Few in her day knew her for what she was. They know her now, and the little ones who follow her littleness on purpose, in humility, may or may not be revealed to others, but He knows their every leap of longing.
Oops, ended that too fast.. yes, some live as Eucharist in a very different way. To me, those feed the best. Those who are eucharistic via imbibing and consuming Him, first.
I am reminded by what you say here of something that touched so deeply-- surprised my soul a few years ago. It was the seeming non-action of Helpers of God's Precious Infants who pray "only".. because this may be the most and/or the last love the fetus will receive. They just simply love these doomed babes. Just simply, helplessly humbly and truly love these.
Now we're cooking...
Gabrielle, I couldn't agree more, and I think we really need to bear others' self-assurance with a great deal of patience. They have not yet come to understand the full meaning of "many parts, one Body," and they see one apostolate as the only way. It is usually born of their own new fire, their zeal for the Light they have at last embraced, and they are eager to share it with others.
But we each have a role, and our roles vary, as St. Paul pointed out so well. We are given different gifts, and we must use them for the Kingdom, but we can't all do the same thing. (Mom moment: During Sunday's homily, which was focused on just this, the 5yo that I never think is listening because he is so fidgety casually looks up and, surprising me to laughter because he actually remembered something I had been teaching earlier in the week, says off-handedly, "Oh, he's talking about the Mystical Body." Yes, he is.)
As Carol (we can argue about whether she is a poetess or not later) has pointed out, our role may be very hidden from view, causing others to wonder if we're actually DOING anything. We may wonder ourselves sometimes. The point is rarely to DO but to BE, to be what He intended, what He created us to be, so that we contribute to Christ's Body "come to full stature." But we don't know what our part is.
(In my lesson to my own children about this, I asked them what part of the Body they were. When they said they didn't know, I said, "Exactly right. We don't know in this life what our position is - that's why we have to keep asking God to show us what He wants us to do in every moment. In the next life, we'll see why we did what we did, and what good we accomplished.")
But this is very heady stuff for a combox. I'm taking this to the front page, ladies. As soon as I get a minute...
(You are all very patient with me. And as I know you are very good pray-ers as well, I ask you to remember my mother at prayer, as we took her to the Emergency room last night with severe pain and found she has an intestinal infection. She refused to stay at the hospital, so we're taking care of her at home. Thanks in advance.)
All of us, from what I have ascertained, are called to service. That is even the outcome for those who reach the Transforming Union, as St. Teresa has taught us. They are filled with a desire to serve the Lord in any way He asks, to be servants in any way He requests. It is the supernatural result of Love.
I guess my main point is that we shouldn't be tempted to judge others based simply on what we can see they are involved with in a parish or any other setting, and we shouldn't presume to know. We have no idea what they may have been called to; we have no way of knowing what physical or spiritual trials and suffering they may be undergoing if they have accepted to be "hidden haulocosts".
There are corporal works of mercy, and there are spiritual works of mercy. We need people in the forefront of movements, and we need people behind the scenes. This is part of the glory of the Mystical Body of Christ. I think we are all called to perform some of both, corporal and spiritual, but as the main driving force of our service, the Lord may choose to call us primarily to one or the other. It's His Call.
Sorry, kt, didn't see your comment come in before I hit the button! May be a little repetitive...
So sorry to hear about your Mom. Will keep her in my prayers tonight.
First, let me say I, too, am praying for your mom, and your busy self.
I was just thinking I find it much easier to be than to do. I am that part of the Body that lies in the sun appreciating the rays, the soft warm sand, the seagulls singing snatches of Beatles' songs, the fresh salt air. A number of God-thoughts come then, too, perhaps even more than at funeral biers.
I was just thinking, for the first time, that the Song of Songs defines what be-ing is. That's a thought I'll keep all my life -- thank you for igniting it. :-)
"Hidden holocausts" is another thought I will keep cherished and ponderable. Again, thank you, ladies.
Love, and a half,
c
Prayers for your mom kt.
I believe that during our lifetimes we may find ourselves using or developing different gifts, and at times we may have to leave one way of serving, to take on another. We should not hang on to our roles at all costs. I think you need to be in tune with the Spirit to do this because sometimes it can be quite painful. People often risk considering their "role" something that belongs to them or defines them. This is a sign they may be serving themselves, not the Church.
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