St. Maximus of Turin: On the Forty-Day Fast II (Homily 38)

 For an introduction to St. Maximus (or what little is known of him), see my translation of Homily 37, the first homily on the Forty-Day Fast.  Other translations of St. Maximus include Sermon on the Nativity II (Sermon 4) and Sermon on the Epiphany (Sermon 7).  As in my previous Lenten translation from St. Maximus, paragraph divisions below are my own.

Homily XXXVIII

On the Forty-Day Fast II

Yesterday, preaching the devotion of the Holy Forty Days, we offered the examples of the holy letters, by which we proved that this number of forty is not constituted by men, but divinely consecrated, not found by earthly thought, but a precept of heavenly majesty. And, therefore, he who breaks the constituted number by eating on one day is not accused as a violator of one day, but is charged as the transgressor of the whole Forty Days. Wherefore is it good for man to fast for the aforesaid number, without labor, and to pursue the sanctity of the whole Forty Days equally. But these are not the precepts of priests, but of God. And, therefore, he who spurns [them] spurns, not a priest, but Christ, Who speaks in His priest. Therefore, let us see at what time the Lord appointed us to this observance, since He willed all the elements to profit through this devotion.

For, behold, in the appointed Forty Days, the earth, bound up by wintry ice, is loosened, and the currents of the waters receive their paths, the ice being melted; so, too, in our bodies, at this time, the sins bound up in rigidities are unloosed, and our lives, in a purer course, the rigor of the devil being melted, recall their original path. The earth, I say, in the appointed Forty Days, sets aside the bitterness of winter; I, in the appointed Forty Days, relinquish the bitterness of transgressions. That earth is split by plows, so that it be fitting for worldly crops; my earth is plowed by fasts, so that it be apt for heavenly seeds. For just as he who more frequently, toiling, works the field, gains a richer return, so he who more often, fasting, works the field of his body, receives greater grace. For, behold, through a time of abstinence, the grass restrengthens in the harvested field, the shoot of the tree strives in the trunk, the sprigs of the vine ripen to gems, and everything lifts itself up from the lesser to the higher; so, at this same time, the deadened hope of men revives unto posterity, lost faith is repaired unto glory, temporal life advances unto eternity, and all the human race, lifting itself up to heavenly things, rises from the lower to the higher. Now the farmer, bearing iron, prunes the shoots of the vines. So, too, now the bishop, treating of the Gospel, cuts off the filth of the peoples, and, in that same forty-day course, all creatures do this, so that, having put aside superfluous things, they might advance to Pascha adorned or arranged.

Now, everything is in labor, and, then, it will be found in fruit. For, then, in contrast to nature’s kind, the thorn offers a rose, the reed smells of lily, the withered sticks give off sweetness; so, too, everything is adorned with flowers, so that that creature is believed to celebrate the festivity of the great day by its own striving. Therefore, let us, too, in this same time of fasts, produce roses from our thorns, that is, justice from sins, mercy from severity, largess from greed. For those are the thorns of our body, which choke off the soul, of which Scripture says, Thorns and thistles the earth will germinate unto you (Gen 3:18). For my earth germinates thorns unto me, if bodily lust pricks me with tribulation.¹ It generates thistles for me, when it tortures me through the desire for worldly riches. For the thorn, for the Christian, is the root of his greed; the thorn, for the good man, is the ambition for honor; for, in appearance, they seem to be pleasing in themselves, but they harm. Therefore, except by keeping vigil and fasting, we cannot be without these; however, through abstinence, these thorns turn into a rose. For, by fasting, lust produces chastity, pride, humility, sobriety, moderation. For these are the flowers of our life, which smell sweet to Christ, which breathe forth a good scent to God. Wherefore the Apostle says, Since we are the good scent of Christ to God (2 Cor 2:15).

Therefore, the Lord lavished this Forty Days upon us, so that, through the space of this time, in the custom of every creature, we might now conceive the sprouts of virtues, so that, on the day of Pascha, we might proffer the fruit of justice. But, for this number of forty days, the Lord Himself exercised Himself, not so that He might gain advancement, but so that He might show us the advancement of salvation. For there was no thorn of sin in Him, which would turn into a flower; for He Himself was the flower born, not of a thorn, but of a rod, as the prophet says: A rod will go out from the root of Jesse and a flower from his root will ascend (Is 11:1); for the rod was Mary, shining, slender, and virgin,² who germinated Christ like a flower through the integrity of her body.

Therefore, continuing through forty days, the Lord kept this fasting without hunger, but that Evangelist says that He was hungry afterwards (Mt 4:2). How, then, could this be, that He Who did not feel hunger and thirst for such a number of days, hungered afterwards? Clearly, He had hungered, nor can we deny that He hungered; for He hungered, not for the food of men, but for salvation; nor did He desire feasts of worldly dishes, but He desired the heavenly holiness for souls. For Christ’s food is the redemption of peoples; Christ’s food is the effecting of the Father’s will; for He Himself says, My food is that I might do the will of the Father, Who sent Me (Jn 4:34). Wherefore, let us also hunger for food, not that which is arranged in earthly feasts, but that which is gathered in the reading of the divine Scriptures. For that [food] nourishes the body for a time, this one refreshes the soul unto eternity. The end.

1There is a pun here with the Latin word for thistles (tribulos), used in the verse just quoted.

2The Latin word for rod is virga, while virgin is virgo. This wordplay is ubiquitous among Latin writers in discussing this verse of Isaiah.

 

 

Source: PL 57:308C-310C.

Translation ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.

 

St. Maximus of Turin: On the Forty-Day Fast I (Homily 37)

 Introduction

Little is known of St. Maximus, besides his writings and the fact that he was Bishop of Turin. It is thought he was a native of Rhaetia, in modern northern Italy, possibly born in the town of Vercelli. Some think he is the same Maximus who attended a few local synods and councils—the Synod of Milan in 451 and the Council of Rome in 465 (thus giving him a much longer life), but there is no certainty. What has truly cemented his legacy is a large collection of homilies and sermons, along with a few treatises.

This homily is the first in a series of 8 on "the Forty-Day Fast" (De jejunio Quadragesimæ), that is, Lent.  I have previously translated his Sermon on the Nativity II (Sermon 4), and his Sermon on Epiphany (Sermon 7).  It should be noted that Maximus' "sermons" and "homilies" are two complete separate sets of writings, with separate numberings.  Paragraph divisions below are my own; the Latin text I used prints the whole homily in one block.

Homily XXXVII

On the Forty-Day Fast I

You have heard, beloved, as the evangelical trumpet sounds it, that our Lord and Redeemer, against the temptations of the devil, indeed fought with words, but strove with the spirit; for He waged the struggle in speech, but He executed victory in majesty. Nor should we deem the conflict to be without a great mystery in this way, the conflict in which either the approaching devil overcomes in words, or the Lord of things, nevertheless, deigns to respond to His tempter with words. But in all this things, our salvation is the reason. For us the Savior went hungry; for us He spoke; we conquered in Him, since we were the cause of His fighting. For who would doubt that the Only-Begotten of the Father, Whom no creature could oppose, took up the struggle on behalf of those in whose flesh He dressed Himself? Therefore, the form of the human body persuaded the shrewdest enemy to approach, whom the true Son of God confused through a true man’s response. Because of which, wandering and uncertain, the tempter seeks out tender and terrible temptations, for, since he beheld the appearance of fleshly man in Christ, yet the presence of His divinity was hidden, he took up arms against He Who is more than man. Therefore, the feminine birth-giving animated him to presume sexual congress, but the virginity of the birth-giver terrified him, since Mary—certainly Eve’s daughter—gave birth to Christ, yet she did not conceive from Adam.

Therefore, when the enemy saw God’s Son procreated through such a miracle, he turned back on himself, so that he would deliberate, and, wondering, he said, “Who is this who, without my knowledge, entered this world? For I know that he is born of a woman, but I don’t know whence he was conceived. Behold, the mother is present, but I can’t figure out the father. I see the birth, but I don’t know the one who is born; and—what increases my stupor—the mother, though she has given forth a son, exults like a virgin, which is not customary to the law of birth-giving. The little one lies in swaddling clothes, he soaks the swaddle with his tears, and he seems to be like mortals in his cries, and, though nothing of infancy is lacking n him, yet no corruption is in him, as in an infant. Bound up, he soils the rags, but heaven smiles at him with the ray of a more joyful star, and angels run between the stars and the lands in his honor, ministering to him, and, exulting, they announce a newness I don’t understand. What is this miracle? I see what I can’t turn away from, I hear what I can’t bear: that a new-born man is honored as God. Never, from the ages, have I encountered this, that someone is born a man and has nothing of human vices. What is this so new and powerful generation? Born among sinners and impious men, and coming forth from a mortal mother, he appears, to me, more purified than all those who are born and purer than heaven itself. No root of avarice rises up in him, no envy beats upon his heart, his tongue does not know lies, his eyes accept no concupiscence, neither ear is softened by lust; certainly, luxury, through which I subjected the human race to me, cannot penetrated his breast; no boasting is in him, no malice. And what more? I find in him nothing which delights me; he casts out all of my urges. What will I do? To whom shall I turn? I feel something stronger; I think he wants to reign in my kingdom—perhaps this is God, Whom no offense can stain. But if it is God, how does he bear the indignities of a woman’s birth-giving? How is content in cradles and rags? Who could believe an infant’s cry in God? To what listener is it not ridiculous that God would be nourished by a woman’s milk? Behold, after everyt8ing, he is hungry, when, certainly, no reason would persuade God to go hungry.”

The devil was excessively ignorant, since the fact that Christ preferred an infant’s food, and that He was hungry like a man, was not due to the body’s weakness, but to the sacrament of heavenly grace. For God’s Son, Whom timeless eternity befits, alongside the sempiternal Father, Who, with His begetter, naturally impassible, reigns in the incorrupt empire, performs the saving mystery in our flesh; and, for this reason, He submits to the common passion of mortals, so that He would triumph over the enemy of the human race in a contest, wherefore that reckless one, blinded by his rage, said to the Lord, If you are the Son of God, speak, so that this stones would become bread (Mt 4:3). Most stupid and empty is this ambush of his: through bread he means to tempt Him Who is bread, thinking that He would work for food-money, He Who preferred voluntary hunger! To which the Lord responded: It is written: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word of God” (Mt 4:4; Dt 8:3). That is to say: “In vain, devil, do you again strive to supplant through food; it was sufficient for you to persuade Adam with illicit foods in paradise for him to be deceived by you. Hunger does not conquer me, nor do I yield to your persuasions, for the will of God is My food: the word of God is my perfect refection.” Beaten back by this sentence, again, so I think, the devil said: “What is this thing? I see him hungering, and I don’t find a need for eating; he suffers everything like a man, and he conquers everything like God. That Adam, certainly made by God’s hands, once yield to my snares; this one, born of a women, is not bowed by his needs nor does he acquiesce to my counsels; I overcame that one by the serpent’s mouth, this one condemns me even when I myself speak.” Again, setting the Lord upon the pinnacle of the temple, he said: If you are the Son of God, cast yourself down (Mt 4:6). Troubled, he spoke these things to Him Whom he thought he could persuade to a fall, Him Whom no bread could convince. To which Christ responded, It is written: “You shall not tempt the Lord your God” (Mt 4:7; Dt 6:16). That is, “what you are suggesting, devil, is the presumption of temptation, not the counsel of sanity, the vanity of leaping forth, not the example of virtue; for empty is every miracle which is not performed for the purpose of man’s salvation.” And, foiled by this response of the Lord, he showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their honors, saying: All these things I will give you, if, falling down, you adore me (Mt 4:9). To which, again, He responded: It is written: “You shall adore the Lord your God, and Him alone shall you serve” (Mt 4:10; Dt 6:13). That is, “he who adores you, devil, is not owed kingdoms, but hell. For to adore the true God and to serve Him is the prerogative of ruling; but you, who promise the honors of the world in exchange for the expected transgression, you do not know how to give yourself rule.” Behold, tempter, now a three-fold interrogation has profited nothing; uncertain he came, more uncertain he returned; he assaulted so to prove, reproved, he drew back.

Therefore, now, beloved brethren, since, having recalled the victories of the Lord’s fasting, we have come to know the triumph of our salvation, let us sanctify our fast with religious services. But what else is “sanctifying the fast” but wanting to fast for a holy cause, doing just deeds, avoiding iniquities? He sanctifies the fast whose heart the adulation of powerful friends and the graces of relatives, and the little and great gift-lefts of clients do not turn away from the right path. He sanctifies his fast whose heart does not revile justice. He sanctifies the fast who extinguishes the flames of ferocious wrath with the placability of a meek mind. He sanctifies the fast who turns lusting eyes away form the filthy sight through the reins of chastity. He sanctifies the fast who scatters the darts of revilers, beating them back with the shield of patience. He sanctifies the fast who calms the tumult of lawyers with speech of peaceful sanity and a tongue of more prudent art. He sanctifies the fast who cuts out the thorns of vain thoughts rising up within him, throwing them up with the plough of the Gospel, like some ploughman of his own breast. He sanctifies the fast who aids the poverty of the needy according to the amount of his goods, with a hand of pitying humanity. He most of all sanctifies the fast who, focused on the precepts of the divine law, spits the diabolical temptations out of his heart. And, therefore, beloved brethren, if we want to show God an appeasing fast, let us be strong in heart, just in judgments, faithful in friendship, patient in injuries, moderate in contentions, let us flee foul speech, standing against iniquities, sober in feasts, simple in charity, cautious among crafty, consoling the mournful, resisting arrogance, sparing in suspicions, hold-tongued among ill-speakers, coequal among the humble. If we want to sanctify our fast through such virtues, giving tribute to the Lord, we will come to the festival of Paschal grace and to the joys of the heavenly promises with undoubting trust and a more joyful conscience.

 

Source: PL 57:303D-308B.

Translation ©2024 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.

Hymn: Longest Night of Earthly Vigil

Here is another Lenten hymn, to pair with my recent setting of my old hymn text "When Time Had Come for Christ to Die."  Whereas that hymn is fitting for commemorating Christ's death on Good Friday, this hymn is a hymn of the myrrh-bearers, who came to anoint Christ's tomb.  It is a hymn of abandonment, a hymn of Holy Saturday.  I first wrote it almost a decade ago, with some adjustments throughout the years, and I'm happy to finally share it.

The tune is "Picardy," a French carol tune.  It is best-known through Ralph Vaughan Williams' arrangement of "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence."  That is certainly the inspiration for my use of it here, as the text of that hymn is used as the Cherubikon for Holy Saturday.

Have a blessed Fast.

Longest Night of Earthly Vigil by Brandon P. Otto on Scribd

Scribd link:https://www.scribd.com/document/706723610/Longest-Night-of-Earthly-Vigil

Internet Archive mirror: https://archive.org/details/longest-night-of-earthly-vigil

Text:

1. Longest night of earthly vigil,
'fore the rock now keeps the Bride.
Taken from the bloody sigil
In the Tomb He'll e'er abide.

R: Christ the Lord to earth descended,
O black earth, release Him now!

2.  Rank on rank the hosts of heaven
Took their leave so silently.
Hast Thou lost that holy leaven
Which would raise Thee gloriously?

3. Moon and stars of night are fading
And the sun no more will rise.
Yet, departing, some faint shading
In the darkness piques our eyes.

4. All the night we've kept in sorrow,
Yet the dark has just begun.
Return shall we on the morrow
And each night till time has run.

5. On the morrow we anoint Thee
If the rock will bend away.
For myrrh makes the dead smell sweetly
But can God redeem death's prey?

6. Farewell, O our Friend and Master!
Now we take our bitter leave!
Farewell, O our wolf-maimed Pastor!
At the blood of dawn, we grieve!

Lyrics ©2023 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the lyricist.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux: On the Pilgrim, Dead and Crucified

 Introduction

St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) needs little introduction.  Famous for his zeal for the Cistercian reform and his mystical writings, particularly those on Mary, as well as his long series of homilies on the Song of Songs, and perhaps a little more infamous for his fervent preaching of the Crusades, he has often been given the title "Last of the Fathers."  He is also known by the more extravagant title of Doctor Mellifluus, "Honey-Flowing Doctor."  The sermon translated below is the last in a series of Lenten sermons.

Lenten Sermons VII

On the Pilgrim, Dead and Crucified

 

1. Happy are those who show themselves as worthless strangers and pilgrims to the present world, keeping themselves unspotted by it! For we do not have an enduring city here, but we look to a future one (Heb 13:14). Therefore, let us abstain from carnal desires, which fight against the soul, as strangers and pilgrims. A pilgrim, indeed, walks along the royal way; he does not turn to the right nor to the left. If, perhaps, he sees men quarreling, he does not attend to them; if getting married, or leading dances, or doing anything else whatsoever, he nevertheless passes by, since he is a pilgrim, and such things do not pertain to him. He sighs after the fatherland, he tends towards the fatherland; having clothing and food, he doesn’t want to be burdened with anything else. Clearly blessed is he who thus knows his own, thus deplores a dwelling, saying to the Lord: For I have come before You as a pilgrim, like all my fathers (Ps 39:12). Great is this indeed, but perhaps another grade is higher. For the pilgrim, even if he doesn’t mingle with the townspeople, yet sometimes delights to see what is there, or to listen to others, or to himself tell what he has seen; and, by these things and in this way, even if he is not wholly held back, yet he is detained and slowed, as long as the desire for lesser things, and less the memory of the fatherland, drives him on. For he can also delight in these things so strongly that he is now not only detained, and comes less quickly, but he even stays completely still, not even arriving late.

2. Therefore, who is a greater stranger to the deeds of the world than the pilgrim? Certainly the Apostle said to them: For you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:3). A pilgrim can, through an excessively easy time on the way, more than behooves, be both detained by wanting and burdened by carrying; the dead, even if he leaves his own tomb, does not feel it. He hears insults like praises, adulations like detractions—or, rather, he does not hear them, since he is dead. In every way, death is happy, since it thus preserves him immaculate; rather, it makes him wholly a stranger to this world. But it is necessary that, for him who does not live in himself, Christ lives in him. For this is what the Apostle says: But I live, not now I, but Christ lives in me (Gal 2:20). As if he said: “To everything else I am indeed dead, I do not feel, I do not attend, I do not care; but, if they are Christ’s things, they find me alive and ready. For, if I can do nothing else, I feel a leap; it pleases me to see what is done in His honor: things done otherwise displease me.” Truly, this is a great grade.

3. Yet perhaps something higher than this can be found. In whom, then, do we find it? In whom do you think, except in him of whom we are now speaking, who was rapt up to the third heaven? For who would stop by saying “third heaven,” if you could find some grade higher than these? Therefore, I heard him, not boasting in himself in regards to such a height, but saying: Yet far it be from me to boast except in the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world is crucified to me, and I to the world (Gal 6:14). He not only says “dead to the world,” but even crucified, which is the most ignominious kind of death. I to it, and likewise it to me. Everything that the world loves is a cross to me: delight of the flesh, honors, riches, the vain praises of men. Those things, then, which the world considers a cross, I am affixed to them, I adhere to them, I embrace them with full feeling. Isn’t this greater than the second and first grades? The pilgrim, if he is prudent, also does not forget his pilgrimage, although he pass through it with labor, and he is not in any way implicated in worldly things. The dead man equally spurns the sweetness of this world and its bitterness. He who is truly rapt up to the third heaven, everything that sticks the world to him is a cross to him, and he sticks to those things which the world sees to be a cross. Furthermore, in these words of the Apostle, it can also be understood, not incongruously, that the world is crucified to him through reputation, and he is crucified to the world through compassion. For he saw the world crucified by the obligations of vices, and he was crucified to it through the affection of compassion.

4. Now let us each think of which grade we are in, and let us be eager to advance from day to day, since “from strength to strength the God of gods will be seen in Sion” (Ps 84:7). And especially in this holy time, I beseech you, let us be eager to live in all purity, where, too, a certain and brief number of days is set down, lest human fragility despair. For if it is said to us, “Be solicitous at every time, in every way, to protect the purity of your way of life,” who would not despair? But now we are admonished to, for a brief number of days, amend the negligences of all other times, so that we might thus taste the sweetness of perfect purity and, at every time henceforth, let the clear footsteps of this holy Lent shine forth in our way of life. Therefore, let us strive, brothers, to receive this holy time with all devotion, and now better recover the spiritual arms. For now the Savior, with His general army from all the world, heads to battle against the devil; the blessed who are under such a leader will strenuously fight. Indeed, all year long, the king’s household family wages war and is assiduous in the girding for battles; but, all at once, and at a certain time, the general army of the whole empire gathers together. Happy are you who have merited to be householders, to whom the Apostle says: Now you are not guests and visitors, but you are citizens of the saints and householders of God (Eph 2:19). Therefore, what will they who take up the task of fighting all year long do, when even those who are rude and formerly idle take up spiritual arms? Certainly, it is even more customary to take up the task of the customary fight, so that a certain great victory for our king would lead us to glory, to salvation.

Source: PL 183:183C-186A.

Translation ©2023 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the translator.

The Lure of Beauty

 "And saw the woman, that beautiful was the tree for eating..."--Gen 3:6

Just a few days ago we heard of the beautiful goodness of creation (for καλον means both "beautiful" and "good"), and now we hear of evil coming from something good.  How can this be, that what was made good can to evil?  When we are allured by that good beauty into turning away from the Lord and His designs.

The Exceeding Beauty of Creation

"And God saw everything, which He made, and behold! it was beautiful exceedingly."--Gen 1:31

Tradition lends a new dimension to the Faith which can easily be missed.  Think, for example, of the account of creation in Genesis, in which each day it is repeated: "And God saw, that it was good."  A quick comparison of English Bible translations shows how ubiquitous the use of the word "good" is in these passages, with only one rebel saying "He was pleased" instead.  Even the Vulgate speaks of how God's creation is "bona."  These all translate well the Hebrew טוב, "pleasing, good, agreeable."  Yet Tradition gives us a rich nuance which should not be avoided.

Spiritual Work in the Desert: Suggestions for Lent

Lent is a time of the desert.  In the desert, we lack what we previously thought we needed but truly did not: in the desert, we are stripped of excess.  Yet the desert is not just a place of aridity and ascesis: it is also a place of God. 

"Spiritual work is essential, it is for this that we have come to the desert."

Countless holy men and women went to the desert to be united with the Triune God: St. Anthony the Great, St. Mary of Egypt, Sts. Barsanuphius and John, the great Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers, St. Pachomius, St. Hilarion, and innumerable others.  The desert is a place where we can find Tabor and encounter Christ: in the desert we can become "partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pt 1:4).

During this holy season of Lent, let us not just strip ourselves of distractions and worldly goods, but let us enter deeper into our relationship with Jesus Christ, and let us fight harder in our spiritual battle.

Below is a list of suggestions for making this time in the desert a time of union with Christ, not just a time of ascesis.  They are not suggestions of what to give up: these are suggestions of what to add to our lives.

• Daily Mass (or in the Byzantine Rite, the Liturgy of Pre-Sanctified Gifts on Wednesdays and Fridays)
• Daily Rosary
• Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer of the Divine Office (and extra Hours are always encouraged)
• Daily additional Scripture reading (I highly recommend the Psalter reading group at Adventures of an Orthodox Mom, which you can still sign up for, even though it has already begun)
• Daily spiritual reading (there are countless amazing works, though in this desert time of Lent, maybe the Sayings of the Desert Fathers, St. Athanasius' Life of St. Anthony, or the Letters of Sts. Barsanuphius and John would be apt suggestions; to focus more on spiritual warfare, Dom Lorenzo Scupoli's The Spiritual Combat or St. Catherine of Bologna's The Seven Spiritual Weapons may be useful)
• Daily Examination of Conscience
• Daily time for silent, contemplative prayer
• Frequent listening to sacred chant (Gregorian, Ambrosian, Mozarabic, Greek, Russian, Slavic, Byzantine, Armenian, etc.)
• Daily Holy Hour
• Daily Akathist Hymn (to Christ, to the Theotokos, to any saint)
• Weekly of any of these instead of daily

This list is just a skimming of some of the most prominent spiritual practices from both the Western and Eastern Church (mostly Western, since that is what I have the most experience with).  There are unimaginable depths to the Church's spiritual riches, and all of them may bring us closer to God (and if these riches are unimaginable, how much more unimaginable must the Lord of Hosts be!).  

May these suggestions help you as this holy season continues, and may you exit this sacred desert with truer faith, more certain hope, and more perfect charity.  God Bless.

St. Anthony of the Desert, pray for us!

Nota Bene: The quote is from Saying #108 of the Anonymous Series of the Apophthegmata Patrum, found in The Wisdom of the Desert Fathers, translated by Sr. Benedict Ward, SLG.

 

Text ©2012 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

 

"Accept My Bitter Tears": A Lenten Prayer by John Saba

John Saba (690-780), also known as John of Dalyatha or John the Venerable, was a Syrian monk from the region of Dalyatha, where modern-day Turkey, Iran, and Iraq meet.  His writings were well-read throughout the Christian East, and they are still popular today, at least in the Oriental Orthodox churches (where he is a saint), despite his being condemned as a Nestorian, a Messalian, and a Sabellian at different times.  Among his writings is the following prayer which fits perfectly for this holy season of Lent:

You who wept and shed tears of sorrow over Lazarus, accept my bitter tears. 

May my passions be allayed by Your Passion; may my wounds be healed by Your wounds, my blood be blended with Your blood, and the lifegiving fragrance of Your holy body be mingled with my body. 

May the bitter drink that was given to You by Your enemies soothe my soul, which has been made to drink wormwood by the evil one. 

May Your body, which was stretched out on the tree, stretch my mind out to you, for it has been shrunken by demons. 

May Your head which was bowed down upon the cross lift up my head, which has been buffeted by impure men. 

May Your pure hands, which were transfixed with nails by unbelievers, draw me up to you from the abyss of evil, as Your mouth has promised. 

May Your face, which has received spit of derision from accursed men, cleanse my face, which has become odious through its sins. 

May Your soul, which on the cross you committed to Your Father bring me up to You by Your grace.

As this first full week of Lent draws to a close, let us recommit ourselves to repentance and asceticism, and let us continue to especially remember the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ.  

Since I am not certain of John Sabas' veneration in the Eastern Catholic churches, let us ask for the prayers of another famous spiritual writer from Syria:

St. Ephrem the Syrian, pray for us!

Nota Bene: This prayer is from John's "Discourse on Flight From the World," and it is Excerpt LXVI in Brian E. Colless' The Wisdom of the Pearlers: An Anthology of Syriac Christian Mysticism.  Information on John was taken from Lucas Cleophas and OrthodoxChristianity.net.

 

Text ©2012 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

 

"Is it possible, my life, that I caused you such evil?": A Spanish Lenten Hymn

Félix Lope de Vega was a famous poet and playwright of the Spanish Golden Age, most well-renowned for his sonnets.  Among his prolific works (Cervantes called him "Monster of Nature" for the sheer volume of them) are many religious poems.  Below is one such poem, which Spanish-speakers sometimes use as a Lenten hymn.

"Soliloquio - III -"

Manso Cordero ofendido, 

puesto en una cruz por mí, 

 que mil veces os vendí 

después que fuiste vendido. 

Dadme licencia, Señor, 

para que, deshecho en llanto, 

pueda en vuestro rostro santo 

llorar lágrimas de amor. 

¿Es posible, vida mía, 

que tanto mal os causé, 

que os dejé, que os olvidé, 

ya que vuestro amor sabía? 

 Tengo por dolor más fuerte 

que el veros muerto por mí 

el saber que os ofendí, 

cuando supe vuestra muerte. 

Yo os amo, Dios soberano, 

no como Vos merecéis, 

pero cuanto Vos sabéis 

que cabe en sentido humano. 

Toda el alma de Vos llena 

me saca de mí, Señor. 

¡Dejadme llorar de amor 

como otras veces de pena! 

Amén. 

"Soliloquy - III -" 

Meek Lamb offended,

placed on a cross for me,

Whom I sold a thousand times,

after You were sold.

Give me leave, Lord,

so that, undone in cries,

I can in Your holy countenance

cry tears of love.

Is it possible, my life,

that I caused You such evil,

that I left You, that I forgot You,

though I knew Your love?

I have as the greatest pain

the sight of You dead for me

knowing that I offended You,

when I knew Your death.

I love You, Sovereign God,

not as You deserve,

but as much as You know

human sense is capable of.

All of my soul that fills with You

takes as much of myself from me, Lord.

Let me cry for love

like so many times I have for pain!

Amen.

St. Ιακωβος Ζεβεδαιου (James, son of Zebedee / James the Greater), patron saint of Spain, pray for us!

Nota Bene: This hymn was taken from Cantad a Dios con salmos, himnos, y cánticos inspirados, published Magnificat Libros in 2010, pp. 823-824.  The translation is mine: if anyone has any corrections (especially for the first two lines of the last stanza), feel free to let me know.

 

Translation ©2012 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.