Prayer by Saint Pio of Pietrelcina

Here's another prayer by Padre Pio from his early correspondence:

"Dear God! What torment I endure in the depths of this
heart of mine! When will my heart find rest? I feel it is breaking and I don't
know where to turn. If I could at least have the satisfaction of giving vent to
this interior torment by tears, it would be some relief, but my sorrow is so
great that it has turned my heart to stone.

"I now understand, dear Jesus, why your Mother did not
cry as she gazed at you on the Cross. But tell me, dear Jesus, what on earth is
this inner voice which I hear continually saying: Where is your God? A
voice to which I can give no answer for fear of saying what is not
true.

"Ah, Lord, assist me in my sorrow. My heart is restless
and it will not be at peace until it reposes in you. But ought I to hope for
this, in view of my unfaithfulness? Yes, Lord, I still have the strength to say
to you: Even if you were to slay me, I would still hope in you. Yes,
dear God, I will repeat to you always: Cut and burn me, do not spare me in
this world, as long as you spare me in the next."

--from his letter of January 31, 1918, to Padre
Benedetto

I've been re-reading Saint Pio's correspondence this summer, putting together a devotional booklet for Lent and Easter. This is actually the third time I've read through all of his letters, and I've always felt that his words speak directly to the Lenten journey, that his life was itself a Lenten journey. But I'm struck this time by his utter human-ness: this was a man who suffered incredible doubts and needed repeated reassurance that he was on the right path and that God loved him. Isn't that what we all need to hear?

"The Water Bearer": An Inspirational Story

I just want to share with everyone a story that we heard during this morning's service at church. The author is Anonymous, but the message is something to ponder. The title is "The Water Bearer."

A water bearer had two large pots, one hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot always arrived only half full. For two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, fulfilled in the design for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was unable to accomplish what it had been made to do.

After two years of enduring this bitter shame, the pot spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself and I apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and was cheered somewhat. But at the end of the trail, it still felt the old shame because it had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you not notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, and not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we've walked back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Each of us has flaws. We're all cracked pots. ... In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste.

"Cedar of Lebanon"

Another name by which the Blessed Mother has come to be known is "Cedar of Lebanon." Here is a little more about this "title" of Mary.

Her Story:

Although the promised land to which God brought the tribes of Israel was “flowing with milk and honey,” it was nevertheless a semiarid Mediterranean place, and large trees were unusual, if not unknown, there. But in the mountains of Lebanon, the land just to the north, the cedars grew tall and straight and were so highly prized that they came to symbolize whatever was precious. Thus in the Song of Solomon, the perfect bride was called forth from Lebanon: “Come with me from Lebanon, my bride….the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon....Your channel is...a garden fountain, a well of living water, and flowing streams from Lebanon” (4:8–15 NRSV).

The Old Testament includes many references to Lebanon and its cedars, which became a symbol of those who are righteous in the sight of God. The Psalms, for example, declare, “The righteous…grow like a cedar in Lebanon” (92:12 NRSV) and “The trees of the Lord are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted” (104:16 NRSV).

But the cedars of Lebanon also represent those who have become proud: “For the Lord of hosts has a day against all that is proud and lofty, against all that is lifted up and high; against all the cedars of Lebanon, lofty and lifted up...” (Isaiah 2:12–13 NRSV)—as if, having been raised up by God, the haughty come to attribute all their righteousness to themselves. God will not permit the conceit to continue: “He will hack down the thickets of the forest with an ax, and Lebanon with its majestic trees will fall” (Isaiah 10:34 NRSV).

Lebanon also figures in the messianic prophecies, which tell how God will raise up the lowly: “Shall not Lebanon in a very little while become a fruitful field, and the fruitful field be regarded as a forest?” (Isaiah 29:17 NRSV). And the messiah will proceed from Lebanon: “The glory of Lebanon shall come to you...” (Isaiah 60:13 NRSV); “He shall strike root like the forests of Lebanon....and his fragrance like that of Lebanon” (Hosea 14:5–6 NRSV).

One group of early Christians, the Maronites, christianized this symbol. Descended from the Church of Antioch, Maronites were early monastics who fled to the Lebanese mountains in the fifth century during their persecution by the Monophysites (those who held that Christ did not take on human nature). Maronites were deeply devoted to Mary, honoring her as the Mother of the Light, and came to extol the strength of her purpose and her fidelity to God’s will by referring to her as the Cedar of Lebanon. Just as the book of Sirach exalts the cedar—“I grew tall like a cedar in Lebanon” (24:13 NRSV)—so the Maronites used the cedar to symbolize Mary’s spiritual stature and excellence. Known for its longevity and resistance to decay, the cedar also came to symbolize Mary’s sinlessness and eventual Assumption. Maronites also thought the fragrance and oil of the cedar could repel snakes, which symbolized evil, in the same way that Mary protected the church against heresy. In the Maronite tradition Mary was seen as the perfect bride of God, brought out from Lebanon to bear the Christ, the righteous one, who would be the redemption of God’s people.

Maronites have carried their devotion to Mary with them as they have migrated to Africa, Australia, and North and South America. Though their loyalty remains strong, they have adapted to current usages, and in many places now the Cedar of Lebanon is also called Our Lady of Lebanon. Even in Harissa, Lebanon, the Maronite shrine to Mary is known as the shrine to Our Lady of Lebanon. The faithful can find a replica of that shrine in North Jackson, Ohio, at the National Shrine of Our Lady of Lebanon. Despite modern adaptations of language, this title serves as a reminder of God’s faithfulness to the people of God, the Messiah’s inclusive love for all people and the Blessed Mother’s essential role in redemption history.

Traditional Prayer:
Hail, O blessed spring of infinite joy,
Hail, O divine treasure of endless joy,
Hail, O shady tree of life-giving joy,
Hail, O Mother of God, unwedded bride,
Hail, O Virgin, unblemished after giving birth,
Hail, wondrous vision, far above any other marvel.

Who could describe your splendour?
Who could tell of your mystery?
Who could know how to proclaim your grandeur?
You have embellished human nature,
you have surpassed the angelic legions...,
you have surpassed all creatures...,
we acclaim you: Hail, full of grace!
—Sophronius of Jerusalem

New Prayer:
O Cedar of Lebanon, we praise you as the Immaculate Conception, we honor you as the All-Holy, we cherish you as the Full of Grace, we recognize you as the Righteous One whom God has raised up, and we celebrate you as the Bride of God. Thanks be to you for your obedience to the will of God, for from your fiat came forth our Messiah. Amen.

Who Am I?

When I was younger, I performed in my high school musical my junior year. The show was Carnival, a musical best known for its theme song "Love Makes the World Go 'Round" and its star turn by Anna Maria Alberghetti (as well as being the basis for the 1953 film Lili starring Leslie Caron and Mel Ferrer). I played the leading male character, Paul Bertholet, a French veteran of the War whose crippling injuries destroyed any chance he had at a dancing career. Embittered, he finds a job as a puppeteer at a traveling, second-rate carnival. Although his puppets are stars of the show, he is not popular with the other performers and hides from the public behind the puppet curtain.





At one point in the action, having met and hired a young, naive woman to whom he is attracted, he reflects upon his "public face," despairing of any hope of ever "healing" from his trauma or finding a bit of happiness in his life, and sings this song to Carrottop, his gregarious, most popular puppet:

Who can I be, now that I can't be me anymore? Shall I be some sunny smiling fellow who won't rock the boat, 'cause he might splash the ocean, but sit there and cheerfully twitter? 'cause someone might say, "See that man over there? He's
bitter."

When will I learn to be like you?

Everybody likes you. You're a lucky fellow. The secret is your smile--I ought to have a smile--that smile takes quite a knack. I think I need a smile, and who cares if it's
real or painted with shellac? A smile full of theatrics, for easily agreeing; two eyes with acrobatics, to see the way they're seeing.

Let's turn about--you say the words for me, 'cause everybody likes you, and no one...no one likes me.
(Lyrics by Bob Merrill, from the musical Carnival)

It's quite a sad song, and the character of Paul is desperately angry at his lot. I don't think I was very convincing at conveying or portraying Paul's emotions--at one point in the rehearsal schedule, the director asked my friends if I ever stopped smiling! But I think the director, in choosing me for the role, though I had never acted before, was actually responding, perhaps unconsciously, to what was happening in my own emotional life. I never reflected upon it at the time, but I was hiding a lot of pain beneath a smiling exterior, because I was trying to "fit in," to be someone other than who I really was and who I really am.

One might say, "Well, all teenagers do that--hide parts of themselves so they can fit in with their peers," and that's true, because teenage-hood is that time of life when most of us question who we are and whether we want to be the person others expect us to be, and most teenagers at some point, for some period, dissemble their true identity just to be able to be part of the crowd. Yet many teenagers rebel against the conformity of their peers too.

But as a gay teen growing up in a rural, very conservative, heterosexist community, hiding my true identity was a survival mechanism. I did not even know of any other "queer" persons, either older or my own age. So I pretended, during high school and for many many years afterward, to be someone other than my true self, never daring even to admit in the privacy of my own mind the truth of my identity. And the words of the song I sang in Carnival continued to echo, a sad accompaniment to everything I did in life.

Until I could stand it no longer, that is. During my 37th year, I knew that I had to answer the question that I had been dodging for so long: Who Am I? I knew I had to embrace the truth, whether I liked it or not, or die. Because, yes, I did feel as if I were actually dying inside. So I asked the question; I faced the truth; I stopped pretending. It was excruciating, for me and for everyone around me. I wish I could say that I immediately felt better after "coming out," but it was a very gradual process--a very slow "rebirth," so to speak. Yet it was, eventually, a "resurrection" experience, as I left behind an existence that was killing me and embraced an existence that was and is truly life-giving.

That was almost 12 years ago now, and the words of the song no longer haunt me. Nevertheless, that essential question--Who Am I?--continues to pester me. Every day it confronts me, challenging me, goading me, perhaps even taunting me. Who am I if I do this instead of that? If I choose this? Say this? Believe this? It's on ongoing dialogue I'm having with myself--there is no "final answer" because I keep on becoming who I am. At the same time, when I embrace my identity, I can act/speak/think/be from my "truth center." I guess this is what my military instructors meant all those years ago when they tried to teach us "integrity"; perhaps I'm finally beginning to understand.

"Mystical Rose"

The "Mystical Rose," or Rosa Mystica, is one of the many titles by which the Blessed Mother has come to be known. Here is a little more about this "name" of Mary.

Her Story:

For all of recorded history, the rose has been called the queen of flowers, so it is no surprise that the rose has come to be identified with the Blessed Mother.

There are three references in Scripture that support this link. In the first, from the book of Sirach, Wisdom explains that the Creator told her to take root in Jacob and Israel, with the result that "I grew tall like a palm tree in Engedi, and like rosebushes in Jericho..." (24:14 NRSV). Commentators have interpreted this verse as a reference to the mysterious Incarnation of Christ in Mary's womb.

The second reference is from the book of Isaiah, who prophesies, "A shoot will spring from the stock of Jesse, a new shoot will grow from his roots. On him will rest the spirit of Yahweh..." (11:1-2 NJB). Commentators have explained these verses as predicting the Christ as the heavenly flower (rose) coming forth from the rosebush, his mother.

The third is from the Song of Solomon: "I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys" (2:1 NRSV). The reference is to the examplary bride and, symbolically, to Mary, the perfect bride of God who will bring forth from the Spirit the anointed one.

The early Christians embraced these metaphors. They saw the red rose as symbolic of Christ's blood, and thus it came to represent charity and martyrdom. And they saw the white rose as symbolic of purity, innocence, and chastity and thus associated it with the Blessed Mother.

As gardeners know, the beautiful rose also has many painful thorns. Here is a symbolic union of opposites: in the blossoms, beauty, life, hope, resurrection; in the thorns, pain, martyrdom, blood, death. Mary embodies this union, having suffered the martyrdom of seeing her own flesh and blood die on the cross, yet also having experienced the hope of the Resurrection.

Christians believe that God gave the Mystical Rose, alone among humankind, a special insight into these mysteries--of the Incarnation, the Resurrection, and her own role in the Redemption. The church thus appeals to Mary for the grace of her mystical wisdom.

Traditional Prayer:

O Mary, mystic rose, whose lovable heart, burning with the living fire of love, adopted us as thy children at the foot of the Cross, becoming thus our most tender Mother, make me experience the sweetness of thy motherly heart and the power of thine intercession with Jesus, in all the dangers that beset me during life, and especially at the dread hour of my death; in such wise may my heart be ever united to thine, and love Jesus both now and through endless ages. Amen.

--The Raccolta

New Prayer:

O Mystical Rose, my existence often seems a complete mystery to me. Where am I going? and Why am I here? are questions for which I have found no satisfactory answers. I pray you, grace me with your mystical wisdom, that I may begin to find the answers I seek. But more than that, keep me from questioning life to death. Inspire me to accept the answers that are right in front of me, in the poetry and symbols and metaphors that surround me, in the people I encounter, in the beauty of creation, in the God-events that surprise me daily. Teach me to enjoy life's mystery, to embrace its uncertainty, to caress its holy secrets, placing myself completely in God's hands and trusting the Holy Spirit to make of my most mysterious life something beautiful. Amen.

(From 100 Names of Mary: Stories and Prayers by Anthony F. Chiffolo. Published by St. Anthony Messenger Press, $12.95; if unavailable via the publisher or other internet resellers, please contact me directly.)

Prayer by Saint Pio of Pietrelcina

I've been doing research about Padre Pio and reading through his collected correspondence, and I came upon this prayer that he wrote:

O holy souls free from all anxiety, who are already made happy in heaven by that torrent of supreme sweetness, how I envy you your happiness! Ah, for pity's sake, since you are so close to the Fountain of life, since you see me dying of thirst in this despicable world, be propitious to me and give me a little of that delightfully fresh water.

(from his letter to Padre Agostino of October 17, 1915)

There are times when I can certainly identify with his sentiments, to a surprising degree--just not when I'm behind my camera!

Prayers to the Saints for Our Pets

Dearest Saint Francis, inspire us to see God's fingerprints in all of creation, especially in the animals with which we share our world. Teach us how to talk with the birds as you did, to coexist with wolves, to treat fish with kindness, to comfort rabbits--to be people of peace in relation to all of God's creatures. Instill in us your extravagant love of every living thing. Amen.

We call upon you, most blessed Saint Anthony, patron of domestic animals, to bless our pets this day. Protect them from injury, preserve them from illness, and help us provide all that they need. But more than that, inspire us to love them as they love us--unconditionally, unwaveringly, and always. Amen.

O Saint Hippolytus, we thank you for keeping our pets in your care. Please continue to bless them, we pray, that they might remain healthy and vigorous for all the years to come. Amen.

Mildest Saint Mildburga, like Saint Francis who communed with the birds, you had a special connection with our winged companions. So we ask you to watch over our feathered friends, especially all of this season's newly hatched chicks. Bless them with health of body and strength of spirit, that they may grow joyful in proclaiming God's love to all creation. Amen.

O sweet Saint Gall, patron of the birds of the air, bless these newborn creatures that have been entrusted to our care. Ask God to give them health and strength and length of days, and give us wisdom to provide for them in every way. Teach us to be patient with their youthful energy, and show us how to cherish them with love eternally. Amen.

O holy Saint Roch, in remembrance of the dog who helped you recover from your own illness, we implore your blessing upon our dear ____. Send your spirit of healing to this sick animal, and ask our Creator to cure ____ so that we may once again delight together in the joy that God has placed in our hearts. Amen.

We invoke your name, most blessed Saint Dwyn, for the healing of this sick creature. Your intercession has already brought about the cures of countless animals, so we ask for your prayers on behalf of our beloved ____, who is precious to us. Bless ____ and ask God to take away her/his malady and restore her/him to full health. O dear saint, please keep ____ under your watchful eye. Amen.

O God, my heart is sad because ____, my ____, is sick and nothing can be done to heal her/him. ____ has been with me for so long, and now she/he will be leaving me--and taking part of my heart with her/him. I ache already from the emptiness ____'s death will create in my life. But more than that, I cry because ____ is in pain. Please, God, don't let her/him suffer. Help me to show ____ that I love her/him, to comfort her/him when death comes, to be ____'s companion until the very end. And when the unfortunate inevitable comes to pass, to remember ____ with love and keep her/his memory with me forever. Amen.

O Saints Gall and Mildburga, pray for our feathered friends.

O Saint Roch, pray for our canine friends.

O Saints George, Martin, and Stephen, pray for our equine friends.

O Saint Anthony, pray for our feline and rodent friends.

O Saint Francis, pray for all our animal friends.

O holy saints of God, pray for us, that we may be loving companions to our animal friends. Amen.

(These prayers/poems are from We Thank You, God, for These: Blessings and Prayers for Family Pets by Anthony F. Chiffolo and Rayner W. Hesse, Jr. Available from Paulist Press.)