Our Lady of the Rosary: Freedom and Joy

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:

The almost imperceptible lapping of the tide against the hull of the flagship, the stillness of the night, the breathing of the slaves slumped over their oars, and the spirited but hushed murmurs of the small assembly betrayed the fury of the battle that was just hours away. Tension and quiet. The young captain general, Don John of Austria, had mustered his admirals to his stateroom to review once more the order of battle. To the man each one had greater seafaring and war-fighting experience than he.

Among them was Spain’s greatest sea captain, Don Alvaro de Bazan, the Marquis of Santa Cruz. Also Venice’s greatest—Sebastian Veniero. At 74, Veniero had three times the years on his back as Don John of Austria.

Also among Don John’s admirals was a Genovese naval commander with an impeccable pedigree. Gianandrea Doria was the nephew of none other than Andrea Doria, who a generation before had served Emperor Charles V as imperial admiral. The elder Doria’s prowess under fire, to say nothing of his guile in politics, had made him one of the most powerful men in Italy. His nephew, heir to the Doria legacy, was, alas, more ship owner than sailor.

Gianandrea opened his palm, raised his eyebrow, and offered, “There is still time, your Grace, to avoid a pitched battle.” In the breast of the natural son of Charles V, however, beat the heart of a lion. He caught and held Doria’s gaze for a moment before looking each of his other admirals in the eye.

“Gentlemen,” said Don John in a low voice. “The time for counsel has passed. Now is the time for war.”

The outcome of the following day’s battle in the Bay of Lepanto we celebrate to this day: October 7, Feast of the Holy Rosary. The fleet of the Holy League sank or captured all but 13 of some 300 Turkish vessels, and Western Europe was saved from Islamic conquest. The sides were evenly matched and well led, but to each of his warriors Don John had issued a weapon more powerful than anything in the Turkish arsenal: a Rosary.

The men of the Holy League prepared for war by falling to their knees on the decks of their galleys and praying the Rosary. Back in Rome, and up and down the Italian peninsula, at the behest of Pius V, the churches were filled with the faithful praying their beads. In Heaven, the Blessed Mother inclined her ear toward her children and then, with her Immaculate Heart aflame brought down the full might of Heaven on the forces of darkness threatening to overshadow Christendom: “They fling great shadows foe-ward making Cross and Castle dark,” as Chesterton put it in his magnificent ballad celebrating the day.

Well known is this story, and many inspirations can we draw from it, among them is the intersection of freedom and joy.

Read the rest here.

The Poor Man of Assisi

The following comes from Fr. Steve Grunow at Word on Fire:

Evangelical poverty. St. Francis of Assisi embodied this way of being "poor" in order to radically live out the Gospel. Father Steve Grunow explains what it means on this, St. Francis' Feast Day.

St. Francis of Assisi was born in the year 1182 and his early life was spent in an atmosphere of privilege and wealth. Francis was the son of a well-to-do family of merchants.

Yet a life of material comfort did not satisfy Francis, and through his acceptance of an extraordinary offer of grace he set about a mission of personal transformation that he believed would lead to the reform and renewal of the Church. The means by which this transformation would happen would be a commitment to a radical witness of evangelical poverty.

Francis would eschew material resources and make himself a poor man. However, the poverty he would embrace would not be the crushing burden of poverty that is imposed by human callousness and social inequities. Francis accepted as his way of life evangelical poverty.

Evangelical poverty is about more than just having a lack of material possessions. It is a way of life, freely chosen, in which one intentionally seeks to represent Christ, who emptied himself of glory and power and, as the scriptures testify, “took the form of a slave.” Further, evangelical poverty is an invitation to an experience of freedom that happens as a result of detachment from material things. The purpose of this freedom is that without the constraining desires of material possessions one can more readily give oneself over to the demands of the Gospel without distraction.

Evangelical poverty also manifests a deepened faith in God’s Providence. It is an act of trust that God will provide us with what is necessary for our mission, and it witnesses to the idea that it is unseemly for a Christian to live in a constant state of anxiety and fear about the status of one’s material resources. 

St. Francis embodied the truth of evangelical poverty in a way that was not simply inspiring, but off-putting. He owned nothing that the world considered to be of value and understood that he was always entitled to less that what he needed. This disposition should have made him miserable, but he apparently exuded uncanny qualities of joy and peace which were contagious. A small band of brothers soon accompanied him in his mission and the Lord soon worked through St. Francis to gather into communion large numbers of men and women who still witness to the mission of St. Francis to this very day.

St. Francis demonstrated that a heightened sense of compassion can emerge from personal sacrifice, and sufferings accepted as having within them redemptive possibilities have the power to make us ever more like Christ. For St. Francis, likeness to Christ in his poverty and suffering became so complete that he literally bore in his body the wounds of Christ. Mystical union with Christ’s Passion was displayed physically in the strange gift of the stigmata.

Few of us are called to live the holy poverty of St. Francis, but we can learn from him that the purpose and meaning of our existence will never be disclosed simply in relation to what we can own or accumulate. We may not be called to give up all of our material possessions, but if we are to follow Christ, we must accept that detachment and sacrifice are not options- they are essential to our salvation.

On this feast of holy Francis, the rich young man who made himself a poor man, the saint who rejected worldly treasures so that he might have treasure in heaven, may we choose to have less so that someone else might have more. May we find in God’s providence the remedy for our anxiety and fear. May we reverence Christ poor, finding in them the presence of the Lord and may we pray to become ourselves more like the poor man, St. Francis.
Father Steve Grunow is the Assistant Director of Word on Fire Catholic Ministries. 

Discovering our Saints: St Francis of Assisi

Beauty, chant bring life to monastery

Morning Prayer of Saint Therese of Lisieux

“Oh my God!  I offer You all my actions of this day for the intentions and for the glory of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  I desire to sanctify every beat of my heart, my every thought, my simplest works, by uniting them to His infinite merits; and I wish to make reparation for my sins by casting them in the furnace of His merciful love.

Oh my God!  I ask of You for myself and for those dear to me the grace to fulfill perfectly Your holy will, to accept for love of You the joys and sorrows of this passing life, so that we may one day be united together in Heaven for all eternity.  Amen.”   

                                                 St. Therese of Lisieux 

Novena Rose Prayer to St. Therese

O Little Therese of the Child Jesus

Please pick for me a rose

from the heavenly garden

and send it to me

as a message of love.

O Little Flower of Jesus,

ask God to grant the favors

I now place with confidence

in you hands

( mention your special prayer request here )

St. Therese, help me to always believe

as you did, in God's great love for me,

so that I may imitate your "Little Way" each day. 

Amen

Chant of the Mystics: Divine Gregorian Chant