The Visitation Of Mary

"Visitation", from Altarpiece of the Virgin (St Vaast Altarpiece) by Jacques Daret c. 1434 - 1435. Staatliche Museen, Berlin.

Coming in the midst of our present time of war and grief are stories of new life springing forth. During the time preceding the Visitation, the angel Gabriel was about his business of carrying messages from God announcing impending births, first to Zechariah, telling him that his wife Elizabeth was to give birth to a son, and then a few months later to Mary, giving the news of her pregnancy, although she knew not man.

Soon after learning that she was with child, Mary set off to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who, in her old age, had conceived her child, John The Baptist, the herald of Mary's child, Jesus, Our Savior.

Where was Joseph during this time that Mary visited her cousin? Hard at work at his carpentry in Nazareth, I suppose.

The reading from the Gospel for the feast of the Visitation includes The Magnificat, Mary's song of praise, one of the most glorious prayers in all of the history of Christianity.

In the Old Testament Book of Samuel, we read of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, who also conceived in her old age, after giving up hope of having a child. She prayed in thanksgiving and praise to God after the birth of her son, who became a judge and a prophet. Hannah's prayer prefigures Mary's prayer.

1 Samuel 2:1-10

Hannah’s Prayer

Hannah prayed and said,
‘My heart exults in the Lord;
my strength is exalted in my God.
My mouth derides my enemies,
because I rejoice in my victory.

‘There is no Holy One like the Lord,
no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God.
Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge,
and by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble gird on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low, he also exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust;
he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
and inherit a seat of honour.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,
and on them he has set the world.

‘He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness;
for not by might does one prevail.
The Lord! His adversaries shall be shattered;
the Most High will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king,
and exalt the power of his anointed.’

Luke 1:39-55

The Visitation

In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leapt for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.’

And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

PRAYER

Father in heaven, by whose grace the virgin mother of your incarnate Son was blessed in bearing him, but still more blessed in keeping your word: Grant us who honor the exaltation of her lowliness to follow the example of her devotion to your will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

I highly recommend that you visit In A Godward Direction, Tobias Haller's blog, to listen to his musical composition.

Setting of the Magnificat from "Mountain Vespers" by Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG, sung by the members of the Brotherhood of Saint Gregory.

It's lovely.

Picture from Wiki.

Note: This post is recycled from the feast of the Visitation of Mary last year with a new painting. I hope that you enjoy it again.

UPDATE: from the comments:

Ann said...

Thanks - I posted an icon that I own at my blog.

Jindal And Jimmy

From the Times-Picayune:

BATON ROUGE -- Before becoming executive counsel this year to Gov. Bobby Jindal, Alexandria lawyer Jimmy Faircloth was a key figure in a high-risk business venture that is sparking new controversy in a Louisiana Indian tribe still shaken after becoming the victim of a national scandal.

From 2005 to 2007, Faircloth advised the Coushatta Indians to invest $30 million in a formerly bankrupt Israeli technology firm called MainNet, which so far has shown no financial return for the tribe and is dependent on monthly installments of Coushatta cash. The company also hired Faircloth's brother, on the attorney's suggestion, after the tribe began investing.

Faircloth is the executive counsel to our Governor Clean, who promised to govern according to the "gold standard" of public ethics, who would not countenance even the appearance of wrongdoing, and who would lead the legislature to enact laws that would clean up corruption in Louisiana.

Jack Abramoff, (you do remember him) a friend of Bush, who is now in jail for various transgressions, also had dealings with the Coushatta Indians, in which the Coushattas paid him a lot of money to lobby for them with the Bush maladministration. I believe that at one point, Abramoff was lobbying for the Coushattas and against them at the same. The story is complicated as is Jimmy Faircloth's story of his relationship with the Coushattas. I've wanted to write about this for a while, but I'm getting to be a lazy blogger, and it looked like hard work.

All of Faircloth's dealings with the Coushattas may well be sleazy, but they are probably not illegal. The Coushattas were suckered out of $32 million by Abramoff, after which the tribal leaders were voted out, and reformers were voted in. The reform leaders did the deals with Faircloth. The tribal leaders are out $40 million and are still paying money by the month to keep MainNet afloat. At one point Faircloth convinced them to invest another $10 million, which they would soon get back when a Nigerian general kicked in some money. Alas! The Nigerian general's investment never materialized.

Before Faircloth took his position in the Jindal administration, he severed his connection with his old law firm and relinquished his position as an investment adviser to the Coushatta tribe.

If you'd like to know more, read James Gill's column in the Times-Picayune.

If you'd like to know a lot more, here's another article from the Times-Picayune.

It's the hypocrisy, you see. After all his promises, Jindal turns out to be just another politician, which I thought he was all along. Before he was elected, I heard not a few people say that he would be the savior of the state. I hear folks talk about how smart he is, but I'm still waiting to see evidence of his smarts. I see a crafty politician, an opportunist, who is smart about promoting himself, but I'm not yet impressed with what he's done for the people of the State of Louisiana. If Jindal goes on to do great things for Louisiana, I will admit my misjudgment of him, but I don't see it happening.

Blamest Thou Not Me, Blamest Paul (A)

Psalm 151

1. The Lord is King; thou shouldst not ever forget it.
* the Lord is King, and he can kick your ass.

2. With his right hook and his holy arm
* he can surely put out your lights!

3. The Lord is great in Zion,
* and most anywhere else you care to mention.

4. He is truly smart and knows lots of things;
* that's how he got to be God.

5. Mess not with the Lord, neither shall ye piss him off;
* screw not around with him, for his sense of humor has its
limits.

6. Those who fear the Lord are counted as smart persons;
* but those who do not are as dumb as a box of rocks.

7. Incline your ear to me, O Lord, and hearken to my prayer,
* for I am a devoted Anglican.

8. Heed not the prayers of those other Protestants;
* for their prayers are silly ones.

9. They ask for things such as brand new, thick red carpeting,
* and choir-robes made of unnaturally coloured polyester.

10. They cry for pew-cushions, praise-bands, audio-systems and mood
lighting;
* and some have prayed to thee to have organs without pipes!
(Canst thou even imagine that?)

11. But as for me, I am a tasteful Episcopalian.
* (Yea, Lord, thou knowest that was highly redundant.)

12. The services which we offer before thy throne are truly spectacular;
* one wonders that thy head does not get too big to wear thy
tiara!

13. Thou takest no delight in the strumming of guitars,
* nor in the singing of 'Kumbahyah.'

14. Yet the music of Stanford, Howells, Byrd and the like
* brings a grin of pleasure even unto thy countenance.

15. I shall offer such worthy treasures unto thee as long as I shall
live,
* and not any mindless, trivial, banal pieces of crap
that some would have us consider as valid music.

16. And if I should fail to keep this promise,
* thou mayest kick my ass, as referred to in verse one.

Yea, Lord, thou knowest not to attribute this wickedness to your servant Mimi. Blamest thou Paul (A). My readers, thou also knowest that the fault lieth not with me. If thou art offended, takest the matter up with Paul (A).

Guess Who Was In My Dream

Last night, I slept like a log, in a deep, mostly dreamless sleep, except for one vivid dream. Grandpère and I were walking along a street in New York City, when we came upon a priest standing on the sidewalk waiting for his dogs to come out of an animal carrier trailer that was parked in the street. I did not recognize the priest, but I did recognize the dogs that walked down the ramp from the trailer that was parked in the street. As soon as I saw the dogs, I knew who the priest was. I won't name him, but I'll tell you that he's from a land across the sea. I don't know what he looks like, but I know what his dogs look like, except that, in my dream, all the dogs looked like Clumber, but they were HUGE, the size of St. Bernards.

I started over to hug the priest, but then, I stopped and said, "Oh, I can't do that, can I? Well, then, hello." You see, I followed the no-hugging rule, even in my dream. The priest did not seem pleased that we had discovered him sneaking into the US without telling any of his virtual friends here that he was coming. He was here for a dog show.

I introduced him to Grandpère, but he was not overly friendly to either of us, and after exchanging a few words, we went on our way, because I could see that the brief encounter was all there was to be.

He did not look anything like what I expected. He was wearing rather large unstylish glasses, like these, and that surprised me. Of course, perhaps the style is now on the cutting edge of a resurgence of coolness for big glasses. If I could draw, I'd make a picture of what the man in my dream looked like, but unfortunately I cannot. There you have it.

"Ticket Please!"

Three women and three men are traveling by train to the football game. At the station, the three men each buy a ticket and watch as the three women buy just one ticket.

"How are the three of you going to travel on only one ticket?" asks one
of the men.

"Watch and learn," answers one of the women.

They all board the train. The three men take their respective seats but all three women cram into a toilet together and close the door.

Shortly after the train has departed, the conductor comes around collecting tickets. He knocks on the toilet door and says, "Ticket, please." The door opens just a crack, and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand. The conductor takes it and moves on.

The men see this happen and agree it was quite a clever idea; so, after the game, they decide to do the same thing on the return trip and save some money.

When they get to the station they buy a single ticket for the return trip but see, to their astonishment, that the three women don't buy any ticket at all!!

"How are you going to travel without a ticket?" asks one perplexed man.

"Watch and learn," answer the women.

When they board the train, the three men cram themselves into a toilet, and the three women cram into a toilet just down the way.

Shortly after the train is on its way, one of the women leaves her toilet and walks over to the toilet in which the men are hiding. She knocks on their door and says, "Ticket please."

I'm still trying to figure out why men think they are smarter than women.

Doug, thanks. It was time for something light, don't you think?

From Our Friend MadPriest

From Mad Priest at Of Course, I Could Be Wrong, :

Diary Entry - 29th. May 2008

I have just heard that the position I have been waiting on for the last 6 months has been scuppered by the deanery concerned as they feel it does not warrant a full time priest. In theory this can be overturned by higher authorities but goodness knows how long that would take. I have been sent a list of other jobs that are in the pipeline but all the relevant ones are, at least, 6 months away from interviews as my diocese likes a long inter regnum so they can rent the vicarage out for 6 months and save on salaries (it's the only way we can break even at the moment).

Although I haven't quite lost the will to live, I am losing the will to get out of bed in the morning and that old black dog is a-licking at my heals (sic).

Most of you who read my blog, probably read OCICBW, but I posted this in the event that you don't. After coming out of the worst of a bout of madness, Jonathan has been serving the people of his Anglican parish as a curate in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, UK, honorably and well for 7 years, but his time there seems to have run out, and thus far, he has not much hope for a new position. Since he lives in a rectory, he will not only lose his position, but also his home.

Jonathan's struggles every single day to serve his people and live a normal life are, in my humble opinion, nothing short of heroic. To be "rewarded" in this manner by the church he served faithfully for so many years, in the face of enormous difficulties, seems so lacking in justice and compassion as to boggle the mind.

I wrote to Jonathan to ask his permission to post his entry, but I haven't yet heard back. He may be out making calls on his parishioners, which he sees as a very important aspect of his job, or doing a funeral, which, by law, Church of England clergy are required to do for anyone who asks. Since his post is already public, and I am an impatient old lady, I'll JUST DO IT!

Pinocchio!!!

Have I told you about my afternoon at Pinocchio? I don't believe that I have. What an afternoon! Music, noise, games, kids, pizza, celebrities, all you could ever want from life. Well, that was all my grandson wanted from life for his eighth birthday party last Saturday. That and the chintzy prizes that break and lose tiny parts soon after the package is opened. Oh, but they loved it! And I did too. Really. I do believe that we had music coming from two different directions - and not even the same songs, but a cacophonous mixture.

Above is a close-up of celebrity SpongeBob Squarepants. He was adorable and full of personality, as you can see. Below is the other celebrity, Spiderman. Poor Spiderman seemed to be missing something. He did not have the bulk to fill out his suit. In fact, I do believe that Spiderman was a girl. I could see curves that looked more like breasts than muscles. Of course, I could be wrong.

I tried to get a better picture of Spiderman, er, Spidergirl, whatever, during her dance, but she had the moves, if she did not have the muscles, and I could catch her only from the rear.



The boys were so caught up in the games that they would not come to blow out the candles and sing "Happy Birthday", so we adults went ahead and cut the cake and served ourselves. It was a turtle cake, you see, and we just could not wait any longer. The boys never even ate any cake while we were there.

A good time was had by all, and it will very likely be another whole year before I enjoy the pleasures at Pinocchio again. Poor me.

Church Of Julian Of Norwich

Mother Julian's Shrine

"The Cell now a chapel the place where Mother Julian wrote down her Revelations of Divine Love"

We should desire to regard our Lord
with wondering reverence
rather than fear,
loving God gently and trusting
with all we are capable of.
For when we regard God with awe
and love God gently
our trust is never in vain.
The more we trust,
and the more powerful this trust,
the more we please and praise
our Lord whom we trust in.
Without this,
we cannot please God.

On the main page of the website is a video of a Benediction service. It's short and includes lovely singing by the choir. It brings back memories from my childhood in the Roman Catholic Church, when the Benediction service sometimes followed the celebration of the Mass.


St. Julian, Bishop of Le Mans

Mother Julian probably took her name from St. Julian of Le Mans.

The site is wonderful for exploring. It includes a biography of Mother Julian with the little information that is known about her life and also a brief history of the period in which she lived.

From the Church of Julian of Norwich.

Julian's words are from Meditations With Julian of Norwich by Brendan Doyle.

Thanks to Lapin for the link.

UPDATE: Kishnevi has found the original words of Julian in my quote. Doyle seems to have abridged the original somewhat.

And thus we shall in love be homley and nere to God, and we shall in drede
be gentil and curtes to God, and both alike evyn. Desir we of our Lord God to
dredin Him reverently and to love Him mekely and to trosten in Him mytyly.
For whan we drede Him reverently and loven Him mekely our troste is never in
vaine; for the more that we trosten, and the mytylier, the more we plesyn and
worshippe our Lord that we trosten in. And if us feile this reverent drede and
meke love (as God forbode we should), our trost shall sone be misrulid for the
tyme. And therefore us nedith mekil for to prayen our Lord of grace that we may
have this reverent drede and meke love, of his gift, in herte and in werke, for
withouten this no man may plesyn God.

Kishnevi has also published the original and his own translation into modern English at his website.

"Obama's Mama"

From a column by Ellen Goodman, published on May 9, 2008, in the Boston Globe:

From time to time during this primary, I've wondered about Obama's mama. In a race that was so much about biography, about beliefs rooted in her son's "DNA," she's made only cameo appearances.
more stories like this

She was the "mother from Kansas" balanced alliteratively with the "father from Kenya." Or she was the white parent whose genes combined with the black parent. Or she was the woman dying of cancer "more worried about paying her medical bills than getting well." And on Tuesday night when her son all but sewed up the nomination, she appeared again as the "single parent who had to go on food stamps at one point."
....

The rest of the story is known: a divorce, a marriage to an Indonesian, a second divorce. She was a mother who kept her children focused as well as fed. But what's less known is the woman in her own right, the one who became an anthropologist, the woman who spent years as the respected head of research for Women's World Banking, bringing micro-financing to poor people in Indonesia.

Nancy Barry, who was the head of Women's World Banking and knew Ann well, has been bewildered by the way she's been reduced to a stick figure. "She was stubborn, hard core, decisive, convincing, deep-thinking, rigorous in her analysis," says Barry. "When I hear Barack talking about how we are not red states, blue states, but the United States, I think he gets that from his mother. The other core capability he gets from her is the desire for healing."

I, too, wonder why Obama has not talked more about the mother who was a presence in his life, rather than the father who was mostly absent. He wrote a book called "Dreams From My Father", but as Goodman says, Obama's mother has made only "cameo appearances" in his campaign. Ann, pulled herself up from depending on food stamps, got an education, and worked as an anthropologist and a head researcher for the World Bank, therefore, she must have been a strong and determined woman. How did she influence and contribute to forming Obama's character? He was brought up by two strong women, his mother and his grandmother. Perhaps, there's a story there that just might be worth telling, not simply to further the purposes of his campaign, but because it's a compelling story on its own.

Danger! Gay Bride!

From Old American Century, via David at The Knowledge Box.

Those folks have terrific posters. I'm sure that I'll be borrowing again in the future.