Catholic Meditations

Lord, when I least expect it,
you breathe hope into my heart,
like sight restored
to a man lost in blindness' night,
like the mystery of an empty tomb
and a gentle word to a grieving woman.
How often, in my grief,
and in my sorrow,
and in my feeling lost,
I turn around and see you there smiling.
O Master of all my tomorrows,
O Keeper of my today,
O Light Eternal,
You are my hope,
and I can only, amazingly, thank you.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving

See the torches burning bright as they gather in the garden,
see the shadows gather as they come to take him away
see his followers run and hide as they scatter from the soldiers,
see them drag him off with him by night instead of day.
Torches still are burning bright to mask the dark of heart now,
Shadows wrapping around their lives as they call the evil right,
So many choose the counterfeit and think they have the answer
As others try to hide the truth and smother His bright Light.

See the court who tries the One who came to bring them new life,
See them mock and slander Him, and beat Him as he stands.
He did not try to defend himself, he listened as they slandered,
He knew that what was happening was in the Father's hands.
And still today they judge him in the papers and in books,
And learned seminars try to shrink him down to size,
And yet they cannot shrink the one who brought life to the world
He stands before them still and calm as they pile on their lies.

See the one who takes the cross that he was born to carry,
Beaten, crowned with thorns, in pain before the crowd,
Burdened with the weight of sin that he carried for all others
He follows in procession and the cries grow ever loud.
And still the crowd howls for his blood in angry shrieking tones,
Mocking him to prove that they are stronger folk than he,
Setting up alternatives to the light that he would give
Trying to hide the truth he taught for what they want to be.

And though they crucified him long ago beside two thieves,
And he, forgiving to the end went down to death so dark
The empty tomb still haunts the ones who long to see him dead,
But to those who accept His words, it gives them life's new spark.
And He, the Light that came to man will never go away,
The Bread of Life who stands before us still to feed our soul
For he is Living Water to the parched who come to drink
And from his cross comes the hope that makes our torn lives whole.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

O Lord,
as I witness the darkness,
and see it wrap itself around more lives,
as man becomes less a creature of worth,
but merely a cog in the machine,
to be send into the night
when inconvenient, frail,
awkward, sick,
where purpose is sidetracked
into dehumanizing gratifications,
where truth is determined
by the shifting sands of what is popular
instead of true,
where hate and anger become the emotion of choice,
and intolerance hides under masks of fairness,
I think back to the garden of olives,
And the hard aching prayer as you steeled yourself,
confronting the truth of humankind's folly,
and I take hope in the fact you thought us worth the cost.

When the darkness is heavy, Lord,
let me see your cross burning in the night,
the only beacon I can trust to show me the way.
And at its foot, in the rough bloodstained sands,
kneeling, let my heart find the refuge it needs.

When the darkness is heavy, Lord,
let me be a lantern
to carry that light into a dark world,
to pass on the flame of your mercy and hope,
that out of the death you bore for us
in long, bitter pain,
you give us the hope of a God who loved us enough
to walk with us,
suffer with us,
die for us,
to bring us his light.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God, Passion of Christ

How red the blood,
red,
dark,
offered up drop by drop
to the soldier's whip,
to the thorn's bite,
to the executioner's nail,
to the long wait on the cross.

Trickling down his arms,
across his feet,
down his forehead,
red blood,
sticky,
mark of death,
fluid of life,
blood of sacrifice,
redemption.

O Sacrifice of Love,
O Victim Conqueror,
O Lamb of God
who takes away the sins of the world,
have mercy on us,
heal us by the blood you so willingly shed,
give us hearts of love.

Amen.

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

It was no clean thing, this --
no easy walk into that dark night,
no staged and calm event
filled with memorable sound bites
and photo op moments,
soldiers in their dress uniforms
and dignitaries in their solemn regalia.

No clean thing, this --
filled instead with the sweat of pain
and the taste of blood,
the dust of the road,
the tears of grief,
the reality of betrayal,
the weight of sin.

No calm thing, this,
filled instead with noise:
the noise of mockery, bitter and undeserved,
punctuated with spittle and blows.
the noise of pain:
the slap of the flagellum against bare skin,
the sound of hammers driving spikes into wood
through human flesh,
cries ripped unbidden from the depths of the gut,
as flesh protested the hot sudden agony
that would not go away.
The noise of expediency: "Crucify him yourselves."

No easy walk this,
rushed through the crowded streets
beneath a crushing weight,
stripped of everything that matters most to man,
standing naked in the light of day
bruised and bloody and battered,
with nothing left to give
except the acceptance of pain,
except the final acts of love,
surrender
death.

Help me see, O Jesus,
beyond the pretty pictures
and sound bites
and images
to the reality of how God descended to death,
the dirty, miserable realness of it,
of man's willingness to be inhuman,
and you did this knowing how dark we can be,
and how unloving we can be,
and how we cling to the dark in spite of your light,
and you still chose to go.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Dear Jesus, bring to mind often that sad, holy, day
When You changed the world for sinners like me
As You carried that horrendous burden of sin all the way
On Your sinless, torn and battered back to set us free.
The unrighteousness of others rested upon Your head
On You, the Son of righteousness, the Father's gift from above,
The dark sin of mankind wanted You dead
To put out your light,You who are all love.
And yet, by carrying all that darkness to the grave
You opened that path that would reach out and save.

O Lord, my light and my hope, let me think of the crowd,
And know it was my sins joining the cry
Of angry men in the courtyard screaming so loud
Demanding the cross, that You had to die.
Let me think of the whip slapping hard as it flails --
How my sin was there in the stripes that it left,
Let me know that my hand hammered the nails,
My sins caused pain for your Mother, bereft.
Through all the times I have chosen sin over right,
I was there with the crowd there to darken your light.

O Lord my salvation, all the days of my life
Let me never take for granted the gift that you give,
the pain and the sorrow, the mocking, the strife
that you bore for me so that my soul might live.
Instead let me offer you at the foot of your cross
the tears of my remorse, bitter as gall,
Repentance of heart for the hard cruel loss
You gave to save me, to redeem one and all.
I offer the sighs of my heart, O Bridegroom divine,
For the love that you have for this poor heart of mine.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ, Penitence

When you prayed in the garden, Lord,
and the heaviness pressed all around you
from the weight of all we had had done and would do
echoing in the quiet night,
and you knelt there while the full moon's light
peaked through the olive trees,
Silent witness alone that sees
how you were sweating blood in the depths of your grief.

How heavy did today weigh on your shoulders, Lord,
How this war-torn world of anger and tears
mad with lust, demands and fears
Despising you for what you said about right --
Choosing the darkness and calling it light,
Twisting your words, despising your peace,
hot with hatred and selfishness that never does cease -
Sometimes done for God, sometimes done for gain
Intense the cry, but an ancient refrain--
How careless we are of what you taught.

When they tied you to the pillar, Lord,
and scourged you in the Roman way, cutting like a knife,
a beating so severe that it alone could take a life,
as the weights at the ends of the whips gouged your skin
and the heavy slap of the leather tore you within,
did you see babies ripped from their mother's womb as inconvenient,
the innocents blown up to make a political statement,
the slaughtered millions killed by machete, bomb and gas
because they belonged to the wrong class,
just happened to be the wrong culture or faith or bloodline,
put down for gain or as a warning sign.
Which gave you the most pain the cruel leather across your back
or the way we would hate and strike and attack,
the knowlege how we would reject you?

When you walked that long walk to your death, Lord
with the heavy crossbeam tied across your shoulders
as the proud and hard Romans paraded you and the others
the soldiers hating the noise and the crowd and the foreignness of it all,
and took out their spite by tugging your bonds and watching you fall,
And as they lifeted you back to your feet you saw your Mother there,
and the aching pain passed between you, her grief and motherly care
did you see all the other mothers aching in their pain for their children, too -
The evil to their sons and daughters that others would do,
mothers who watch their children die for others' gain,
mothers weeping in the night in inconsolable pain,
mothers who would cry to you for help.


When they nailed you to the cross, Lord,
and hung you up to die the slow hard death reserved for theives and slaves
in pain and shame and suffocation, until exhaustion takes them to their graves
did our evil make the pain that much sharper to feel?
Did our lack of mercy and love, our evil zeal
echo down the centuries like a pressing weight of lead,
sin upon sin laying on your head
making your sacrifice all the more painful?

And yet, still you managed to love us, and gave us all you had left,
Hanging on the cross, beneath a darkened sky, naked and bereft -
your mother, your forgiveness, your heart's blood.

Dear Lord,
Have mercy on us.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

See them walking to the hill,
Soldiers, priests and prisoners all,
A time to weep, a time to kill --
God With Us answers mercy's call.

Wood and hammer,
nail and rope,
tools of hard death,
tools of hope,
washed in blood,
crowned by thorn,
as He dies,
new life is born.

See them nail him to the cross,
Beaten, bloody, forgiving all,
They glory at His mother's loss --
God With Us answers mercy's call.

Wood and hammer,
nail and rope,
tools of hard death,
tools of hope,
washed in blood,
crowned by thorn,
as He dies,
new life is born.

The sky grows dark as death grows near,
This day more different than them all,
The Son gives all while the wicked cheer --
God With Us answers mercy's call.

Wood and hammer,
nail and rope,
tools of hard death,
tools of hope,
washed in blood,
crowned by thorn,
as He dies,
new life is born.

O Pascal Lamb, O Bridegroom bright,
Who dies for love of one and all!
The earth itself quaked at the sight --
How God With us answered mercy's call.

Wood and hammer,
nail and rope,
tools of hard death,
tools of hope,
washed in blood,
crowned by thorn,
as He dies,
new life is born.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Divine Mercy, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ, Song

I
Here lies the dust, dry soil, longing for rain,
Blowing dust that makes the mouth grow dry
Now touches the barren heart with that longing pain
For green vistas, so soft, to rest the eye.
This, the dust of our days misspent, and lost
Trickles like sand through fingers, caught by the wind --
How little we realized at first what the cost
Of making that dust would be, the coin we'd spend
In this turning our lives into deserts of sand,
Longing for hope's water in this barren land.

II
Once upon a time, it is whispered that man
Knew a time of walking along with God,
In the blessed cool of the evening, but then he ran
Into that desert, there heavy-hearted to trod
The wasteland of dust he created by hand --
A drought of separation, that loss of grace,
Parching his spirit like an unwatered land,
A unwanted gift left to all of his race.
From parent to child hear it echoing still,
The keening hot thirst only God's love can fill.

III

God took on the dust of his creation one day
To bring down the waters to break the long drought,
He came born as a child, in the dust and the hay,
Few saw his coming, few sought him out.
One cool of the evening he knelt down to pray,
His sweat fell like blood drops, the start of the rain,
His blood then was given the very next day,
Flood waters from Heaven released in his pain.
In his dying, forgiveness for what once was wrought,
The drought can be ended when his presence is sought.

IV

Here lies the dust, God gives the rain,
Ending the dust that makes the mouth grow dry
He touches the contrite heart to ease the pain
Gives green vistas, so soft, to rest the eye.
This, the dust of our days misspent, and lost
Are healed by his love, given back by the wind --
For those who will listen, he has paid the cost
Through love alone, the coin he chose to spend
In this turning our lives into gardens, not sand,
Bringing hope's water to a once barren land.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness

I

When all the darkness of a world gone mad with "me" and "mine"
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.

Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heroes fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.

Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?

Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?

The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.

Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.


II

Lord,
You offer so many graces to us,
your poor benighted children here on Earth,
graces that fall to the ground too often unwanted, ignored, unseen.

How often we turn to run to the dark when you offer us
that purifying light that will heal the aching in our hearts
as if it were some bitter tonic
instead of the Living Water,
perfect tonic for all that ails us.

Forgive us, Lord,
for the ingratitude of our wayward hearts,
for the cold determination to do what we want,
no matter what the cost.

Soften our hearts, O Lord, and open our eyes,
scaled over by sin and and willfullness and lack of trust,
until we see you standing there,
waiting patiently with outstretched hands,
ready to transform us step by step,
grace by grace
until you have made us into the child of light
you would have us be.

III

You gave me a dream one day, O Lord,
of midnight on a storming sea,
Hurricane winds blowing free,
washing up on an unprepared shore.

I watched as the waters swirled and rose,
huge swells washing all away
there in the darkness far from day,
The works of hands shattered in the water flows.

I watched how puny are the works we prize
The works of hands and sweat and dreams
Falling there beneath the streams
Nothing of man stopped the water's rise.

And yet, there on the water's face
Bobbing lightly as the waves moved on,
Survivors surfacing towards the dawn
Rafts and boats and planks and boards in place.

Even though wind tossed, and frightened there
even though battered in the night
they escaped into the light,
By the hand of loving care.

"My mercy," said the Lord to me
"I gave them refuge in my heart,
As the darkness took their world apart
Because they put their trust in me.
.
"Take care to understand and know
When darkness seems too dark to see
That I will hold you close to me
In darkest night, when storm winds blow

"If you will give your heart to me
To keep within my heart of love
You will always float above
The darkness of that midnight sea.

"Cling to my mercy now, this day,
The storm clouds gather, the darkness grows,
The seas are rising, the dark wind blows,
Come into my heart or wash away."

Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness

See the Bridegroom coming,
Coming with shouts and noise,
Soldiers marching in fine array,
Heading to His betrothal.

See the Bridegroom standing,
Standing there before the crowd,
Dressed in the finery of love
Heading to His betrothal.

His garland is a bloody crown
of twisted thorn thrust on his head,
Finery than the lillies of spring,
Arrayed for His betrothal,

His robe a bloodstained rag of red,
Mockery of royal garb,
Richer than any silk woven,
Fine clothes for His betrothal.

His body anointed with his own blood,
A perfume from Heaven for his bride
And spittle from the mocking men
Rich unguent for His betrothal.

His betrothal gift boxed all in wood,
A cross of heavy weight and pain,
Embossed with nails for feet and hands,
Precious treasure for His betrothal.

All for love he gives these things,
All for love to win his bride,
All for love to woo her heart,
Giving all for His betrothal.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

So I will allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart....and she will respond there as in the days of her youth. - Hosea 2:16,17

O Lord, again and again I hear you calling,
Serenading us in the night,
A lover who never gives up his playing,
Calling us until morning light.

It doesn't matter that we are enamoured
of things that turn our heads away,
How vain we flutter, chasing others,
You wait there patiently til light of day.

How easy we are to be distracted
by things that flash in candlelight,
Toys and glitter, that shine and dazzle,
Tinsel promises in the night.

We do not deserve a love like yours
That stands so true while we chase on
Who picks us up when tinsel breaks
And other loves have left and gone.

When lost in the desert of our dreams,
O let us here your love's sweet song,
And surrounded by our shattered dreams,
Help us know where we went wrong.

O allure us, we who need your love,
Until we rest our hearts with you,
Beloved Lord, open our hearts,
Let us hear your song anew.

You are the source of light and love,
My cold life shatters when we're apart.
Hold me forever in your arms,
All my joy springs from your heart.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Loving God, scripture

Each step that day, as the crowd pressed in,
How hard it was for You, burdened with a dark world's sin,
that last, painful walk through Jerusalem's dust,
beneath a burden incredibly hard to bear, but bear it You must -
step by aching step, one foot following another
a countdown You were born for, while others thought to smother
Your light, Heaven's light, beneath a rebel's death
Each step that day a struggle of muscle and breath
each step one less to the time when you would walk no more
before tasting the depths of darkness that would open hope's door.

Watching you in mind's eye, O my Jesus, what you did so long ago,
the reality of that moment doubted by so many who think they know,
in my heart, seeing your blood streaked face marred beneath your thorny crown,
Your mother's tears, the bored soldiers, the impatient centurion's frown,
I contemplate your words, "Come to me, you who are heavy burdened," and know
that as I watch you walk that short but hard march, each shove and blow
from the place of condemnation to the place of execution,
That your death was a gift, the choice was God's solution.


O my Jesus, may I, in my remembering that day, that gift,
learn to follow in your footsteps in gratitude, and let you heal sin's rift,
walking beside you on the road from death to life beneath the cross you give me;
teach me to bear its burden well, as a treasure, graciously
with as much love and willingness as my wavering heart can muster,
And forgive me this day, if I forget and stand and whine and bluster
Because I love you for the loving walk you took -
Bring it to my mind daily - help me stand and look!

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

O Lord, on the days when the darkness seems so deep
When I feel the splinters from the wood of my own cross,
Sometimes I get a flash of insight, a sudden leap
Of that suffering, of that pain, of that loss --

Separated from the pretty pictures of my books,
The smell of death hanging in the air, the jeers, the flies,
The weeping women, the soldiers' learing looks,
The eyes of your Mother as she cries --

Real moments fraught with blood and grief and pain --
From this you wrought the answer to Adam's sin,
How we want to pretty it up, build walls, contain
The reality of God touching us, lock it in.

Clever as we are at building the boxes to hide that fire,
The burning love of creator for creation stained,
You find ways to bring home that truth, inspire -
Yours is a love that will not stay contained.

Open my heart, O Lord, and let me see today
The reality of a God who burns away the night
Holding nothing back to open up the way
To lead his bride at last into the light.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

You call me Lord, to come to you,
You tell me in your arms to cast
All my weariness in a life that's hard,
To find the true peace that will last.

Here I hand you all the burden
All the fears that burn within,
Here I give you all my sadness,
A life that's marked with my own sin

In your eyes I see your welcome,
in your touch, I find my rest
healing in the sound of your voice,
In your presence I am blessed.

In your rest, I find my hope.
In your peace, tomorrow's way
and in the joy you whisper in my heart
You are the dawning of my day.

You are the one good thing I need,
And when all other pleasant things fall
Friends turn away, and things wear out,
You will still be there, my all in all.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving

Lost and afraid, I turn to You,
O Lord, King of my heart,
You who walk each step with us,
Near as breath You stand, never apart,
Emmanuel, O God-With-Us,
who knows our grief and pain,
Who gave so much in woe and blood
To free us from our stain.

Today they tell us black is white
And evil things are right,
And sing the praise of midnight sins
and tell me it is light,
But You are there beside me,
I need You more each day,
To guide my steps through all the dirt
They kick across Your way.

How clear it is in this dark clime
that the world is not our home,
We are only pilgrims here,
Our purpose is to roam
Across this dark and painful land
To be lanterns of your light,
O keep us near along our way,
Protect us in this night.

O bring to mind how you were born
To walk this dusty place,
Creator entering into the world,
A caring, loving face,
Your words like fire burned the air
You walked the way to go,
And then You let them take Your life,
Your depths of love to show.

Upon that heavy cross of wood
You proved how deep the care
That Heaven bore for this poor world,
To hang in sorrow there,
To taste our fear down to the dregs,
To know the depths of grief,
Carrying the weight of all our sin,
Killed like some common thief.

And this you did for love alone,
To open wide the way,
O teach me Lord, to love You more,
Each moment of the day.
No matter how the darkness grows,
Help me to stand there true,
And when at last, my eyes I close,
I wake to be with you.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Discipleship, Jesus' Love

"Love is not easy," You once told me,
"Watch me in the garden, and you will see
How Love is a struggle, hard and heavy,
When Love and our wants do not agree,
And the prayer on our lips is, 'Father, hear me!'
And we, hearing Him in Love, do not flee.
This is a sacrifice most pleasing."

Love is not easy - I understand, but know
When I am touched by the hand of loss and sorrow,
The road of hard choices where Love has me go,
You have walked that hard road, too and the shadows only show
There is light up ahead, where you vanquished the foe.
Help me to love, Lord.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Discipleship, Emmanuel, Jesus' Love

Sing how the Son emptied himself entering into creation,
Creator of all, choosing this lowly station,
Carried nine months near his mother's heart.
He became poor and humble, not rich and grand,
But as one of the lowly, working by hand,
Knowing how to earn his bread by muscle and art.

In love, He preached the way to live for light,
Healing and leading us out of the night,
Misunderstood by many who would turn away.
He suffered agony in the garden, burdened with our sin,
Obeying the Father, grief stricken within,
Knowing full well the evil of man to this day.

For love, He let himself be betrayed and denied,
Alone he stood before the judges, deserted, decried
Like a sheep to the slaughter, silent and mild.
He allowed himself to be mocked and abused,
Slapped, punched, lied about, unfairly accused
Of nothing but truth, a truth they defiled.

He stood there and took the stripes we deserve,
To heal wounded souls without any reserve,
Each mark, each wound, a sign of his love.
He accepted the crown of thorns, woven in spite,
A mockery of who he was, king of all light,
Perversion of his crown in heaven above.

For love, He bore his cross willingly,
Condemned with the wicked, a gift offered free,
To the Father above who would heal us this way.
He was nailed to the cross to bleed and to die
The new passover, as his mother did cry,
Entering death's night, he brought a shining new day.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Black as the night, and blacker than dark
Are the ways of sin that burn through the world,
Hatred and Greed and Pride's banner unfurled,
Coursing so redly like Cain's throbbing mark.

O Lord you have shown me, shown all who would see
What the wages of sin are across the land,
Wages that hunger and ever command
Payment in blood and death and grief and misery.

Each harsh word, each blow, each theft in the night,
Bombs blowing up in unwary market places,
Each lording over another, injustice that races
To breed new darkness and hate to smother the light --

These are creatures of the pit, the dragon's delight,
Brought forth in abundance since Mother Eve's choosing,
Binding us in chains of dark bitter accusing --
Satan wanting to show God we are not worth his sight.

And yet God still loves us, the work of his hands,
And showed us the way to break those dark chains
Long ago it seems now, but his touch still remains
To deliver the hearts of those caught in dark lands.

"Love those who hate you, " his soft words proclaim,
A message that seems overwhelming to do,
Breaking the hate chains of darkness anew
By refusing to pass on by action the same.

By action and prayer and love do not stain
Your soul with the evil passed down from the fall,
This is his answer, this is his call
To those of us who would break dark night's chain.

So hard to do, this call now to love,
So hard for us sin-sick, made out of mud
So hard that he gave his own bright heart's blood
To give us the strength from heaven above

To change the world and let in the light,
Showing there's hope in the sorrow of life,
Showing a way out of sin and of strife,
Showing a way out of the endless night

If we answer the call.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Jesus' Love, man's inhumanity, Need for God

Meditation on Malachi 6:8

Nations now rage across the world,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Sword in hand, flags unfurled,
Et cum spiritu tuo.

They stand for good, they stand for greed,
pax, pax vobiscum,
They rage over words, they kill over creed
Et cum spiritu tuo.

Voices weeping in the night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
breed new hates by morning's light.
Et cum spiritu tuo.

Daughters slain for father's pride
pax, pax vobiscum,
Mothers kill their child inside,
Et cum spiritu tuo.

Orphans are removed from sight,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Disappearing in the night.
Et cum spiritu tuo.

Dogs fed better than homeless man,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Ragpickers living where they can,
Et cum spiritu tuo.

God turned into sign of war,
pax, pax vobiscum,
A bloody mark upon the door,
Et cum spiritu tuo.

O who will break these chains of night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And lead the weeping into light?
et cum spiritu tuo.

God has told you what to do
pax, pax vobiscum,
To live with Him and brothers, too,
et cum spiritu tuo.

Walk humbly with Him, hand in hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
To find that peace across the land,
et cum spiritu tuo.

Know all you see are God's children,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Treat all like they belong to him,
et cum spiritu tuo.

Walk in the paths of justice right,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Love mercy like it's Heaven's light
et cum spiritu tuo.

Act lovingly to rich and poor,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And God will open wide his door.
et cum spiritu tuo.

The peace that comes from Heaven's touch
pax, pax vobiscum,
requires your all, returns so much,
et cum spiritu tuo.

This peace is passed from hand to hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
across a dark and savage land
et cum spiritu tuo.

Nations may rage, but there within
pax, pax vobiscum,
You'll find God's peace where he's let in
et cum spiritu tuo.

Man may maim and man may kill,
pax, pax vobiscum,
The light of God will reach out still.
et cum spiritu tuo.

(pax, pax vobiscum = peace, peace be with you
et cum spiritu tuo = and with your spirit)

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, man's inhumanity, Need for God, scripture

The white wool sits there in my hand,
the wheel goes round and round and round,
As the thread is formed, a thin white strand,
And the wheel goes round and round.

Once it sat on back of ewe,
The wheel goes round and round and round,
And knew the sun, the feel of dew,
And the wheel goes round and round.

Once it knew the shearer's hand,
The wheel goes round and round and round
all gathered up in a dirty white band,
And the wheel goes round and round.

Once it met the water clear,
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
That made its grime all disappear,
And the wheel goes round and round.

Once it met the woolen card,
And the wheel goes round and round and round
To make it smooth and not so hard,
And the wheel goes round and round.

And soon it will be cloth of wool,
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
To keep me from the winter's cool,
and the wheel goes round and round.

The hand of God works like that too,
and the wheel goes round and round and round
Takes me through each step I rue,
and the wheel goes round and round,

Finds me wild then cuts the dross,
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
The tool he uses is his own cross,
And the wheel goes round and round.

Baptismal waters to wash my soul
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
And his own love to make me whole,
And the wheel goes round and round,

His cleansing comb sweeps through my life,
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
to straighten out the noise and strife,
and the wheel goes round and round and round.

Spun into thread for God's tapestry
and the wheel goes round and round and round,
I'm part of that bright cloth, you see,
and the wheel goes round and round.

Each life is precious in his hand,
And the wheel goes round and round and round,
Each life has place, a shining strand
And the wheel goes round and round.

The cloth he makes a shining white,
And the wheel goes round and round and round,
To clothe his Bride in linen bright,
And the wheel goes round and round.

And when the last strand's woven in
And the wheel goes round and round and round,
The wedding feast will then begin.
And the wheel goes round and round.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: Discipleship, Jesus' Love

Between the midnight of those who reach out in hate
Shedding blood on the streets in God's holy name,
And those who see religion as the source of pain and disgrace
And see life on this Earth as just a meaningless game,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And know that Your ways and theirs just are not the same.

Between the easy answer of it's all about me,
And the anger that lets frightened souls die
As offerings to hate that say "I'm stronger than you,"
As others choose nothingness as an end to the cry,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And see in Your light the blackness of Satan's dark lie.

Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
that place touched in such an unusual way,
God walking as man beneath the Sun He made,
Where You stand to welcome us, to heal our hearts of clay,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
When all else is darkness, You are my day.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

Labels: current evils, Discipleship, Jesus' Love

Between the midnight of those who scoff
and the darkness of those who strike out in anger,
and the laughter of Satan as he watches the struggles
pile the pyre of hate and angst and grief
higher and higher and higher,
Teach me O Lord,
each day,
each moment
to see your path through the darkness,
to be willing to walk your steps through the rubble,
to cling to your light, no matter if it's brightness pains me
as I see the shrouds they would wrap your truth in.

O You who died for love of me,
teach me to live for love of You,
one breath at a time,
one step at a time,
one encounter at a time,
and may the light of the fire of Your love
keep the darkness of this age
from overwhelming my heart,
so that I may be your witness,
no matter the cost,
This day, and always, Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Discipleship, Jesus' Love, Need for God

Shelter from the winter,
and the long day's journey,
Just a rock outcropping,
The only place to stay,
A place used as a stable,
Shelter from the storm
There Mary made her resting place
When her little child was born.

Sheltered from the hands of man,
And a king who chose to kill,
The baby rested quietly
As babies sometimes will
At the bosom of his mother
who rocked him on her way,
On the dusty road to Egypt
For a sheltered place to stay.

Unsheltered from the hands of man
the woman trembled there,
Expecting to go down to death
by men who didn't care.
Looking up she saw his face,
No mob to kill her left
Shelter came from heaven's love
A healing, swift and deft.

He built a shelter from the storm
with his own precious blood
As the mob cried out for death
To drag him in the mud,
The pain, the grief, the shameful death
God's haven for the lost,
Shelter for all time and space
he made there at the cross.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love

Joy unlooked for is a gift you bring, O Beloved Master,
a touch of hope within the night
like a promise of light
that tells us darkness has an end.

A drop of everlasting water, this gift you bring,
a touch of balm to soothe the grieving heart
breaking, hopeless, torn apart
lost in remorse for its sin.

A gift that will bloom like the fairest rose, this joy,
a gift held in the hand of our unseen lover,
a kiss from Heaven, there to hover
and soothe the aching of one's soul.

Offered freely by the most generous of hearts, Your gift,
a pearl filled with the promise of heaven,
in purity, perfection,
this is the joy you plant within our hearts.

Be enthroned in my heart, O Master,
You who bought that pearl so bright,
giving your all to give us your light,
the joy that comes from walking with you.

From darkness into the light, hand in hand,
Let me walk with you at my side,
And in the perfect joy that only you can provide,
may I find my true home forever.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love

The drum is sounding in the night,
O listen to it beating,
a dark foreboding heart it throbs
Without a moment's ceasing.

When Eve chose dark instead of light
The first stroke hit the skin,
When Adam joined his choice with her,
The rhythm then began.

The choice was made, the beat began
To echo to the ending
The world was torn with sin of man
The dark beat never ceasing.

Abel's blood cries in the night,
Listen to it moaning,
Violence at another's hands
Without a word of warning.

Lust and pride and greed march on,
like some perverted treasure,
And anger hurls them all along
Its army without measure.

But a whispered hope came with the fall
Of someone who would come
And heal the breach and make things whole
And still the beating drum.

He came to us as babe in arms
crying in the night,
The answer to our spirit's woe
the one to make things right.

His own heart's blood he made the cure,
The salve to make men whole,
To bind up all the wounds of sin
That terrify the soul.

The time of healing nears each day
that passes through our hand,
The drumbeat grows more frenzied now -
The glass runs out of sand.

And when the last grain passes through,
with throbbing cacophony,
Abel's blood will moan no more,
And the drumbeat cease to be.

And when the last beat of that drum
echos in the night,
He will bring the morning sun
Renewed, and clear and bright.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness, Need for God

From You, O Lord, comes the melody
that gives each life a meaning,
a song sung soft, sometimes fleeting,
part of the larger chorus.

Each voice a precious music part
In Your vast melodic creation,
Our lives a training for our station
To learn to hold the truer note.

We may take that tune to heart,
And let our life be joyful counterpoint,
or sadly, make dissonance out of joint
with the movement You are playing.

O Music Master beyond compare,
I long to join my song to Thine,
O teach me well to sing my line
in the melody of my heart.

And when untrue notes fall in my song
help me learn the truer course,
not croak or sing my part weak or hoarse,
but just the way You would have it.

And when my practice time is done,
And when the curtain falls at last,
may I join that song group vast
Who swell the celestial chorus.

Glory to the Lamb on high,
may I sing in cheerful tone,
my part then perfect before your throne
to echo through all time and space.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love

A vision spoken long ago by prophets who did not live to see
The fruition of their message was fulfilled in love unbounded,
A gift of hope to lost Mankind to ease their hearts and set them free
As Creator entered creation and the angels' song resounded.

God-with-us, the prophets announced, would come
God-with-us, who would walk the very paths we take,
Who would feel our pains, aching, sharp and numb,
Who would know our griefs, the struggles that we make.

And look, their voices called out, an amazing thing to see:
The Master comes, born not as king, but lowly and ignored,
To reach the least among his flock, arms open lovingly,
One with the shepherdless people most dependent on their Lord.

And in this vision the prophets were shown the price he chose to pay
To lead his children from the dark to to the morning that will come
A price bought hard in sweat and blood, a gift often thrown away,
Yet freely made by loving heart to lead his lost ones home.

The vision is not ended, no, it burns within the breast
Of each soul answering the call to sit there at his feet,
The vision is our hope, our joy, our shelter and our rest,
The road to everlasting peace at our Lord's mercy seat.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Emmanuel, Jesus' Love

Our Lord is the Lord of abundance.
The harvest is plentiful, you see,
like golden heads of ripened wheat
waving as if in a plea,
lives hungry for that which will bring them
the answers to set their hearts free.

Our Lord is the Lord of abundance,
with harvest ready to be brought in,
like fruit hanging heavy on tree boughs,
lives touched with the darkness of sin,
needing only for workers to reach them,
Carrying His love to lead them in.

Our Lord is the Lord of abundant
compassion for you and me,
harried and troubled and weary
being tossed on an angry sea,
He calls for his workers to answer
as He beckons, "Come follow me."

Our Lord is the Lord of abundance.
He beckons us out to the field
To answer the need of the lost ones
He longs to protect and to shield,
The shepherd who gathers the lost sheep,
Our lives are the rod that He wields.

Our Lord is the Lord of Abundance,
Let us give Him our hearts and our hands
and He will direct the harvest
as His love, ever eager, commands.
Filled with His love, He sends us to gather
In joy, may we be tools in His hands.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Good Shepherd, Jesus' Love

It comes flowing like a stream of living water, clear and bright,
from Your loving hand into my heart,
there,to quench my burning thirst,
a gift unearned but cherished,
Your peace, O Lord.
Peace - that foretaste of heaven,
that touch of the Spirit that can only come from you.
Peace, as special as the touch of mother and child,
peace, like the beauty of a summer's day beneath an indescribably blue sky,
peace, knowing that the God sized hole within my spirit is filled perfectly by your presence.

Amazing, this peace, for even as the world goes mad around me,
and evil is called good, and good is named bad,
I do not panic about what tomorrow brings,
Because You give the me the refuge I need at the foot of your cross,
a home built on the solid rock of Your call, Your touch, Your love,
And even when the darkness comes, and I can see no other way, you are my light.

Once You led me to look deep into the darkness from which no man returns,
and even there, I found You waiting, wrapping Your loving arms around me,
and when I did not know if I would awake, I rested easy in your hands
as my body shivered on that line between life and death.
No fear, for even there, I was covered by the shelter of Your wings.

It is hard to explain how You lead me to these still waters,
even when I feel attacked with doubt and worries and wonders and pain,
But there You are, Lord and Friend,
And in Your peace, may I rest forever.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Good Shepherd, Jesus' Love, Peace of God

When all the darkness of a world gone mad with "me" and "mine"
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.

Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heros fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.

Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?

Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?

The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.

Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, man's inhumanity

Lord,
You offer so many graces to us,
your poor benighted children here on Earth,
graces that fall to the ground too often unwanted, ignored, unseen.

How often we turn to run to the dark when you offer us
that purifying light that will heal the aching in our hearts
as if it were some bitter tonic
instead of the Living Water,
perfect tonic for all that ails us.

Forgive us, Lord,
for the ingratitude of our wayward hearts,
for the cold determination to do what we want,
no matter what the cost.

Soften our hearts, O Lord, and open our eyes,
scaled over by sin and and willfullness and lack of trust,
until we see you standing there,
waiting patiently with outstretched hands,
ready to transform us step by step,
grace by grace
until you have made us into the child of light
you would have us be.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness, Mercy on Mankind, Prayer for Mercy

O Sacred Heart,
so burning with the fire of love.
O Heart of my Savior,
Sanctuary of all grace,
all love,
all truth,
I adore you, I praise you, I bless you,
and I love you with all the strength and love
my poor heart has to give.

O Heart above all hearts,
forgive this poor, scarred heart of mine,
so often choosing not to love,
not to listen to your call,
cold when you would fill it with fire,
rebellious when you would lead me beside the still waters,
unfaithful wihen you wiould fill it full with your grace.

Forgive me, O Fount of endless mercy,
I who deserve to be cast out of your presence and into the endless darkness,
but who through your mercy find myself here,
at the fount of the Living Water.

O Bridegroom beyond all others,
by your cross,
by the very act of your choosing to be the Victim of love,
by your loving self-sacrifice in the Eucharistic Presence
that feeds my very soul with your own loving self,
I beg you, O Heart of Divine Mercy,
to forgive me for all those times,
all those sins
of ingratitude,
forgetfulness,
lack of faithfulness,
and all the other wrongs I have done to you,
whom I should love with an undivided heart.

With tears of contrition and grief for what I have wrought,
I come before you
longing to make whatever reparation I can,
token of my love for you,
knowing that truly they could never make up for what you are willing to give,
but yet, Lord, here I am.

Let me bear whatever griefs,
whatever suffering you should send my way
willingly as a reparation to thee,
for the wrongs I have done,
for the wrongs others do,
and for the conversion of hearts who do not love you.

Let each beat of my heart
be a prayer of love you you,
each breath I take,
a rememberance of Him who gives me breath,
each day granted
another chance to speak to you of my love,
each hour a celebration of the hope you give me,
each minute passing,
a thanksgiving of my joy at having been touched
by your love.

O Ocean of mercy,
whose love is big enough to embrace the whole world,
hide me in the depths of your heart forever.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Loving God, Sacred Heart

You gave me a dream one day, O Lord,
of midnight on a storming sea,
Hurricane winds blowing free,
washing up on an unprepared shore.

I watched as the waters swirled and rose,
huge swells washing all away
there in the darkness far from day,
The works of hands shattered in the water flows.

I watched how puny are the works we prize
The works of hands and sweat and dreams
Falling there beneath the streams
Nothing of man stopped the water's rise.

And yet, there on the water's face
Bobbing lightly as the waves moved on,
Survivors surfacing towards the dawn
Rafts and boats and planks and boards in place.

Even though wind tossed, and frightened there
even though battered in the night
they escaped into the light,
By the hand of loving care.

"My mercy," said the Lord to me
"I gave them refuge in my heart,
As the darkness took their world apart
Because they put their trust in me.
.
"Take care to understand and know
When darkness seems too dark to see
That I will hold you close to me
In darkest night, when storm winds blow

"If you will give your heart to me
To keep within my heart of love
You will always float above
The darkness of that midnight sea.

"Cling to my mercy now, this day,
The storm clouds gather, the darkness grows,
The seas are rising, the dark wind blows,
Come into my heart or wash away."


Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Divine Mercy, God Our Shelter, Jesus' Love

Joy unlooked for is a gift you bring,
O Beloved Master,
like a promise of light
whispered in the depths of a grieving heart
lost in remorse for its sin,
a gift that will bloom like the fairest rose
held in the hand a lover,
this joy you give us,
undying even in the midst of our pain and sorrow
Love’s gift,
unearned,
offered freely by the most generous of hearts.

Thus is the joy you plant within our hearts, Beloved Master,
a gift like a glowing gem,
a pearl filled with the promise of heaven,
in purity, perfection,
a taste of that perfect joy we shall know
when walking those streets
where you are the king enthroned.

Be enthroned in my heart,
O Master, O King, O most perfect Beloved,
You who bought that pearl so dearly,
giving your all so that you might offer all
the joy that comes from walking with you
hand in hand,
from darkness into the light.

O Beloved Lord,
O Master,
O Jesus,
here at your feet,
in the perfect joy that only you can provide,
may I find my true home forever.

Susan E Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving

Who looking would have expected hope to be born
that night of agonizing prayer under the olives,
sweat like blood falling in the spring moon light,
and a will that said not mine but yours.

Hope seemed to flee
when asking for the the price of a cheap slave
one of his own offered to make fellowship's kiss
turn into a betrayal,
backed by guards and swords and hate.

Did His followers hope against hope
that morning during an unjust trial,
where He stood, whipped and bloody,
a sacrifice of one for the many,
while a cynical judge gave Him up to prevent a riot
and a bad report back home.

Did any know that hope, while He in the grip of torture,
gave His back to the scourge,
His hands to the nails,
His body to the scorn,
hung high for all who came into the city to see,
He who gave up all, a perfect sacrifice,
as the temple veil was torn.

Hope glimmered in fear and amazement, though
as women crept out at dawn
to find a rolled-away stone
an empty tomb,
a discarded shroud,
a rolled-up napkin,
a missing body.

Hope spilled into concrete reality
as a weeping woman looked up
at the person who spoke her name.

Hope
coming down from Heaven,
the unexpected gift
to an undeserving world.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Hope, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Once they mocked Him with a crown of twisted thorns,
the soldiers there,
a game to amuse themselves
while they passed the time,
to prove how secure they were in this foreign land
how much stronger,
how much in control.
No threat, He,
beaten, bloody, bound,
an interesting toy
to play with in the morning.

Now they mock Him
with a crown of twisted words,
those who choose to despise Him,
soliders in a different war,
yet still in need of games to amuse themselves with,
to prove how much wiser, stronger, smarter they are,
how they can turn their back on his open hand,
They look for ways to push the crown in deeper,
to add their spittle to His face,
other rags for Him to wear
so they can rip them off in mockery,
using Him as an interesting toy
to prove their independence.

And yet, despite of all their lies,
the tomb is still empty,
and the witness of God's mercy still lives,
passing from heart to heart,
life to life,
believer to believer.

Maranatha!

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

O Lord of my life,
Your gift still amazes me,
How you walked the earth
To teach us the way to be,
Then suffered and died
So you might then set us free,
Peace of my heart,
let me come to thee now.

Those women who watched you
In sorrow and agony,
Amazed are their hearts
When they come in search of thee,
An empty tomb echoes
Instead of a cold body,
You have shattered death's chains,
All praise to you now!

O Peter, whose heart
Was a stone since the loss of thee
Ran with John like the wind
When Mary could not find thee,
Hope for the hopeless
The shroud and the towel they see,
But you are not there,
For you've shattered death's chains.

O Lord of my life,
O Master and King of me,
Your love is a call
That beckons me home to thee,
Your truth is a fire
That tranforms the dark of me
Peace of my heart,
Let me come to thee now.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ, Song

And Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; pray therefore the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."

Matthew 9: 35-38 RSV

Compassion -- to suffer with.

O Lord,
Emmanuel,
God with Us,
Who suffers with us,
Who feels our griefs,
Who knows our pains,
Who gifts us with his heart's own blood,
That we might know
That he knows,
That he understands,
That he cares,
That he loves.

O God with Us,
who knows the taste of frustration,
who knows how it feels to be misunderstood,
who knows the pangs of hunger,
who understands fear,
and sickness,
and sorrow
and pain.

O Lord, our Shepherd,
Open our hearts that we too might hunger
to share that compassion,
that suffering with our fellow man,
knowing as we do we suffer with you,
knowing as we do your work, we work with you,
knowing that as we give, we give to you.

O Lord,
make us the tools in your hand,
turn us into the workmen in your field,
the laborers for your harvest,
as you will,
in the way you will,
this day, and always.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Emmanuel, Jesus' Love, scripture

Your love, O Lord, is an ocean,
An ocean of mercy waiting to quench our burning thirst,
Living water,
Water ready to purify the darkness of sin,
Water to quench the fires of hate,
Water to fill the parched aching within,
Water to wash us clean,
Living water streaming from the heart of a loving God,
Endless fount of mercy,
Gift beyond our imagining.

Open our hearts, O Lord,
and remind us how we need that living water,
how we will perish without the touch of that healing flow,
how life becomes a meaningless desert
when we wander separated from the living water of your presence.
Help us to realize
that when the burning thirst touches us,
it is only you who can quench that fire within,
and when touched by your living waters,
may we remember the giver,
and pass the gift on to those whose lives we touch,
this day, and always,
Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Mercy on Mankind, Prayer for Mercy

O my Jesus,
I contemplate your poor battered face this evening,
Your hair sticky and wet from the blood beneath your crown,
your cheeks bruised and bloodstreaked,
your nose swollen.

I behold the King on his way to his betrothal,
in just those garments that show
the depth of your love,
how far you are willing to go
in pursuit of you bride,
what a bride price you are willing to pay
to dress her in the dazzling white you promised.

Let me contemplate this gift,
and not forget the pain throbbing through your body
because of me, and all like me,
brother and sister in our lack of holiness,
pain you bear willingly,
pain rooted in our lack of perfection,
and our turning away from your light,
pain rooted in our hunger for good twisted into things we should not want,
all braided together like the thorns you wear around your head.

How heavy this burden you carry
on that abused but precious head, O Lord,
and I, with all of mankind, heaped that burden on you,
hammered the thorns into your flesh,
mocked you for who you are,
King and Bridegroom for an unfaithful world.

What reparations could I make
that would make this reality go away?
Nothing.
But, pricked to the heart,
I offer you my tears,
and grief at the necessity,
and bowing before you,
offer you the little love I have,
my heart,
my abject sorrow,
and eternal gratefulness at your willingness to love.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ, Penitence

John 8:9-11

The fright had not yet drained from her eyes as they made their retreat.
Her dark kohl smudged eyes, looking worn and tired and resigned,
had not noticed their leaving,.
Instead, she huddled there, her heartbeat pounding in her ears
like a doe at the end of a hunt, wounded,
waiting for the last sharp blow that would carry her away into the darkness.

Yet, and yet.
How the chaos of her day faded, breath by breath.
A moment too many had passed, something had changed.

Finally, she shifted, daring to move, clutching her torn dress tightly.
Unbelieving at first, she noticed the rocks,
the rocks meant for her, the tools of her death scattered upon the sand.
Hope unsought, unexpected caught at her throat.
.
Glancing up, she saw him,
looking at her with a kindness that held no glimmer of lust
or lewdness or distaste or abuse,
a hand that helped her to her feet,
and the soft voice that offered new life.

O Lord, all of us are as guilty as she, deserving to be caught in the act,
pulled by rough, unforgiving hands to the place of our execution,
for we are all sinners, deserving to be displayed for what we are,
deserving to feel the stone's bite.

Yet and yet, O Lord,
you are our help when the darkness threatens,
our sure protector who lifts us out of the sands of death
O Lord, no matter how deep our stained souls,
if we are willing to look up into your loving eyes,
and like she did, find newness of life in your loving hands.

---

Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God, scripture

I

You stand there Lord,
before the haughty Roman judge,
bloody,
beaten,
abandoned.

Behold, says Pilate.

So frail you seem,
as you lift your bloodied head
and look upon this gathered crowd,
hungry as jackals.

Bruised and battered, the face
that looks out over the assembly
gazes not with hot hatred
or numb resignation of the broken,
nor self-pity,
but with love
and grief
and an unfathomable caring
that yearns to heal each of us.

Lord, I am not worthy to meet your gaze.
Have I not, like Peter,
denied you?
Or like Judas, betrayed you;
Time after time, have I not
added to your stripes,
pierced your head
with the hard thorns of an unloving heart?

And yet here you stand,
pouring yourself out like a drink offering,
letting the cup be drained
until nothing is left.

Lord, you said the word to heal me -
let me never forget the price you paid.


II

Behold the Man! say Pilate,
wishing to make you look small,
frail,
worthless,
nothing for the authorities to worry about.

Behold the Man, say the nonbeliever,
wishing to strip you of the power of God,
to make you safe,
ignorable,
worthless,
nothing to worry about.

Behold the Man, say some,
wishing you were the person they want you to be,
ascended master,
apostle of hate,
elder brother,
letting your message be nothing to worry about.

Behold the Man, say I,
Wishing to follow you with all my heart,
True God and true man,
who lovingly laid down his life
to bring us all home.

III

Such a king as this:
look at him,
bloodstained,
crowned with thorns,
mocked.
See how he ascends to his throne,
outstretched arms,
pierced hands,
bleeding side.
Yet just by this act
he saved us all
who choose to follow,
and at his name
every knee shall bend.

Hosanna!

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

O Living Flame of Love,
O Heart of Mercy beating,
O Bridegroom,
O Lover beyond my understanding,
holding me now in the palm of your hand,
the light of your love overwhelming.

No words to speak
in the embrace of the Beloved,
but such desire to be his,
as he would have me,
in the dazzling white
he would dress me in,
in the purity of heart
he would bring me to,
in the excellence he sees,
with his eyes,
a form I cannot yet fathom.

O Beloved Master,
walk always with me.
Teach me your ways,
that I might delight you
with my hunger to please you.
Feed me with your love
that I might feed others,
Robe me with your light
that I might learn to see
as you would have me see,
transform me
breath by breath
step by step,
for without you,
there is nothing else that really matters.

O Living Flame of Love,
O Heart of Mercy beating,
O Bridegroom,
O Lover beyond my understanding,
O God,
Be thou my vision,
this day, and always,
Amen.


Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Loving God, Praise and Thanksgiving

Each step, each breath, each beat of your heart - pain.
The weight of the cross so heavy,
each step a small miracle of your perseverance,
the determination to pay that price,
no matter how shaky the legs,
how short the breath,
how much it cost to make each step.

Glorified.
This is how the Father does it,
the way he did not ask Abraham to take,
no sacrifice of the firstborn for his chosen people,
a gifting consumed by blood and fire.
No.
But through you, his only-begotten,
laboring there beneath the crossbeam,
Your hair and face streaked with blood beneath the thorny crown,
face beneath the smears ashen with pain,
and the gathering doom in your chest,
already making you hungry for breath,
scapegoat,
bearing the sins of the world,
each bruise, each welt merely a token of what they deserve.
Glorified
as you walk,
the smell of blood and fear and sweat and death and pain
swirling around you,
our deaths, our pains, our griefs
on your one set of shoulders,
each movement crying out its pain,
only a foretaste of the pains ahead,
until, fulfilled,
you slip away,
glorified indeed by the hands of your loving Father,
and in that new dawning,
hope born in the birthpangs we can only imagine,
you will stand glorified,
our Lord
world without end,
amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ, Rosary Meditation

O Lord,
In a world that rushes by us, so changeable,
filled with some moments of happiness
that we would cling to forever,
but which slip past our fingers,
filled with horror, sadness
grief,
dark moments,
These too pass in that ever-flowing stream of time.
Our mighty works crumble.
The words we've spoken echo away.
Nothing permanent,
nothing certain
except that we were born,
we will live,
we will die.

And yet, when we look back
and see all is darkness,
a light comes shining like a beacon
to pierce the darkness
and meaninglessness of all our griefs, and tears, and pain,
a fire sparked by a love we do not deserve,
a light kindled with hope we do not merit,
a beacon fueled by a perfect sacrifice.

O Light,
who emptied yourself out to dwell among us,
O Word
who came to teach us the things that matter,
O Son
who came giving the message of hope to a sin-weary world,
O Christ
lifted high between Heaven and earth,
You are the beacon that pierces the meaninglessness of the night,
the shelter against the winds of change,
the entryway to that permanence
that can only come from one
not bound by time or space or the limits of this universe,
and in your hands only
can I find the rest that really matters.


O God the Father
who loves us,
O God the Son
who gave all for us,
O God the Spirit
breathing life into us,
in gratitude I say
Alleluia!

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Holy Trinity, Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving

For God so loved the world,
the Son emptied himself and became man.
For God so loved the world.
he became poor and humble.
For God so loved the world,
he preached and healed and loved and prayed
even as people misunderstood him and often turned away.
For God so loved the world,
he let himself suffer agony in the garden,
knowing full well the sinfulness of man.
For God so loved the world,
he let himself be betrayed and denied and deserted
by those closest to him.
For God so loved the world,
he allowed himself to be abused and mocked
by those who should have given justice.
For God so loved the world,
he allowed himself to be scourged dreadfully,
for our sakes.
For God so loved the world,
he accepted the crown of thorns.
For God so loved the world,
he bore his cross willingly.
For God so loved the world,
he was nailed to the cross as a sacrifice for our sins.
For God so loved the world
he suffered and died in agony that we might live.
For God so loved the world
He arose on the third day, breaking the chains of death,
for our salvation.

Alleluia!

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Tune

Come listen to the Lord
Feed on His holy word,
Jesus, love's light that burns hot like a flame.
He breaks the bonds of sin
For those who enter in,
And gives His peace to those who call His name.

His is the hand that frees,
Heart that loves, eye that sees,
He is the Life and the Truth and the Way.
Look where He's leading you,
Guiding you, saving you,
Look to his cross that burns brighter than day.

He is the entry way
To new life, hope of day.
His is the gateway to Heaven's hope bright.
His is the open hand,
Solid rock, never sand,
Jesus the beacon that shatters the night.

His is the hand that frees,
Heart that loves, eye that sees,
He is the Life and the Truth and the Way.
Look where he's leading you,
Guiding you, saving you,
Look to His cross that burns brighter than day.

Come listen to His voice,
Taste His truth and rejoice.
Feed on His word and let Him heal your soul.
Jesus is calling you
To a life clean and new.
His loving hand will make your spirit whole.

His is the hand that frees,
Heart that loves, eye that sees,
He is the Life and the Truth and the Way.
Look where He's leading you,
Guiding you, saving you,
Look to his cross that burns brighter than day.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving, Song

It was no clean thing, this,
no easy walk into that dark night
filled with memorable soundbites
and photo op moments,
soldiers in their dress uniforms
and dignitaries in their solemn regalia.

No clean thing, this,
filled with the sweat of pain
and the taste of blood,
the dust of the road,
the tears of grief,
the reality of betrayal,
the weight of sin.

No calm thing, this,
filled instead with noise:
the noise of mockery, bitter and undeserved,
punctuated with spittle and blows.
the noise of pain:
the slap of the flagellum against bare skin,
the sound of hammers driving spikes into wood
through human flesh,
cries ripped unbidden from the depths of the gut,
as flesh protested the hot sudden agony
that would not go away.
The noise of expediency: "Crucify him yourselves."

No easy walk this,
rushed through the crowded streets
beneath a crushing weight,
stripped of everything that matters most to man,
standing naked in the light of day
bruised and bloody and battered,
with nothing left to give
except the acceptance of pain,
except the final acts of love,
surrender
death.

Help me see, O Jesus,
beyond the pretty pictures
and soundbites
and images
of how God descended to death
in the dirty, miserable realness of it,
of man's willingness to be inhuman,
and you did this knowing how dark we can be,
and how unloving we can be,
and how we cling to the dark in spite of your light,
and you still chose to go.

Alleluia!


Susan E. Stone 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

To the tune of Mist Covered Mountains:
http://ingeb.org/songs/chiminam.mid

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

How can I sing of what you mean to me,
Shepherd of love, who went out in search of me,
when I was lost, you picked up and cradled me,
And carried me off in your arms.

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

How can I sing of what you have done for me,
Born poor and ignored in Bethlehem's streets for me,
Walked over the land, teaching always to rescue me,
Suffered and died for us all.

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

There in the garden, you sweat drops of blood for me,
There at the post, you took many stripes for me,
You let them mock you, and bore all things patiently,
To bring us all safely home.

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

You accepted the cross that you knew would set me free,
You bled your bright blood in sacrifice red for me,
You who were God went down unto death for me
Out of love for your own.

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

There in your tomb you severed death's chains for me,
The stone rolled away with the brightness of hope for me,
The tomb was deserted for us as you set us free,
Proof there of Heaven's great love.

O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God, Song

(Tune)
http://www.contemplator.com/midimusic/maidwho.mid

Remember man, that thou are dust,
to dust you shall return
When God shall call your spirit home
to soar with him or burn.
He has told you what is good O man,
what matters most of all --
So choose you wisely while you may
To walk with him or fall.

Some do think when they are young
That what they want is right.
Power, love, or frenzied games,
While they are young and bright.
But like the flowers of the field
That bloom so bright in May
The time will come as days run by
That brightness fades away.

When darkness comes crashing down
and lovers lose their charms,
And power leaves a bitter taste,
Hope crumble in your arms,
O what will fill the aching gap
That burns within your soul?
What can fill your emptiness
And make your spirit whole?

Remember Man, that thou art dust,
But Jesus wore that dust too,
To open wide the doors of grace,
Healing, cleansing and true.
If you listen to his voice,
and follow where he leads you,
Living waters there will quench your thirst
And the Bread of life will feed you.

Listen, Man, he calls you now
To make your wounded life whole.
To heal the pain in your aching heart,
To fill that gap in your soul.
He calls to you with gentle voice
Gives light to show you the way,
Love divine from Heaven's door
To fill your heart today.

(Tune)
http://www.contemplator.com/midimusic/maidwho.mid

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Last things, Man's Sinfulness, Need for God, Song

O Lord, Breaker of Bonds,
Emmanuel, God with Us,
O Jesus, you who call my name,
I hear your voice on the wind this night,
when daybreak seems so far away
and the shadows seem so heavy and close.

O Lord, Breaker of Bonds,
At times like these,
when the tempter comes to whisper
how little I am worth,
how flawed my life is,
thank you for your sweet voice that comes to remind me
how you chose to walk the long hard road
from Bethlehem to Golgotha to tell me that you care,
you who come to me as the Bridegroom
dressed in the thorns and welts and bruises and piercings
that are your wedding robe,
bearing the cross that set me free.

O Lord, Breaker of Bonds,
You who are the Bread of life,
You who feed me with your always living self,
how much you have given to show me
that although my strong right hand is not so strong,
your hand, scarred for love,
has broken apart the bonds of death,
that my will cannot save me from the blows of sin,
but that your grace is sufficient for all my needs,
that my friends, well meaning or not, all stumble,
but you are the one who will be with me at the very end,.
the ever living Word, there before the creation began
who comes to show me the truth that will not fail.

O Lord, Breaker of Bonds,
teach me to trust in your love and mercy,
this day and always,
Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Emmanuel, Jesus' Love, Trust

O Lord, Bread of life,
broken for the sins of others,
broken to feed the souls of all the sin-sick people of the world,
broken like a piece of bread
snapping in the hands of your servant,
Bread of life,
like that bread broken to feed the crowd,
unending supply until all were filled,
man, woman and child.
Fill me, O Bread of Life,
as I hunger and thirst for that righteousnes
only you can provide,
Bread of life,
Bread broken in your own hands
as you instituted that meal
which still feeds our souls long years after,
"Take" you say, "Eat."
Let me receive your goodness, O Lord,
Fill me with yourself -
I look and see the broken bread,
see the broken man,
as at that moment I am taken back to the place of the skull,
standing in the dust,
touched with the smell of blood,
and fear,
and grief,
and pain,
and looking up,
both to you in the white host,
broken in the priest's hands,
to you on the cross of calvary,
to you, at that last supper,
holding the bread that was you,
that is you,
that would feed your followers
and all the followers who followed them
until you come again in glory,
and watching, I know,
that here,
in this sacrifice,
this sacrament,
I find the peace that comes only from you,
and find the sure footing to my way home.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Bread of Life, Eucharist, Jesus' Love

Space enough in your hands, O Lord,
to hold all the broken hearted humans on this sad world,
the lover left to grieve,
the parent deserted and alone,
the victim of tragedy,
the forgotten.-
So many are they, with all their griefs, sorrows, wounds and wearinesses
yet always room for another,
no matter how many come crying.

Space enough in your glance, O Lord,
to share in the pain of all those in sickbed,
to see those hopelessly manning the deathwatch,
to see those in joy receive their healed child,
to ease the passing of a soul eager to come home,
O Lord our healer, always so many in need of your sight,
yet always space to look at one more

Space enough in your arms, O Lord,
to hug all the children the world has ever known,
all the unborn who will be discarded each day,
all those ruined by neglect, sometimes in the midst of plenty,
all those broken and beaten,
overworked, unloved,
crying in the middle of the night,
there in your arms.

Space enough in your heart, O Lord,
for every person who has walked this sad world,
every man, woman, child -
Lord, you know us all by name
even if we try to pretend you away.
How patiently you call,
the shepherd always at watch for his lost ones,
how joyfully you celebrate
each one found, brought into the fold.
How patiently you guide,
working to bring us home,
polishing , pruning, cleaning, purifying,
until that bright moment you call us home
to that place
of many mansions,
limitless space for all who respond.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Sacred Heart

(a meditation on the Salutaris Hostia)

Saving victim,
victim by choice,
victim of will,
victim,
hanging there,
adorned in the red blossoms of your own blood,
sacrifice
that opens wide the gates of heaven,
the gates of mercy,
salvation's way,
calling to we poor humans
calling us to the banquet
calling us to the wedding feast
even as our enemies gather forces,
in spite of the war the darkness wages.

Your own heart lights up the way,
your own feet have tread out the path,
your own love made clear the way.

O King,
O Lord,
O Bridegroom!
May we joyfully walk each step of the way
that you have shown us,
this day and always,
Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Beneath a wall of water
Images of self-determination,
Control,
Being master of one’s fate
Become razed rubble,
Washed out to sea,
Leaving only the stubble
Of what hands had built,
Pulverized by something
Bigger and stronger than us.

How we love to build towers,
Monuments to self,
And pretend that we are the makers,
Ours the strong hand,
The clever thought,
The mastery.

But the one who controls the wind and the water,
Who breathed life into the world
Knows who we are,
Small and frail and weak
Posed against the largeness of his power.
Yet, in spite of all our posturings
And attempts to usurp his role,
In love, he offers us his hand
To heal our souls
Battered by the world and its darkness
So that he may take us into the light.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God

Did it start
like the faintest whisper,
a breath of air,
gathering speed,
growing to a gale,
like a storm of God's light
ready to sweep across the globe?

Did it start
like a spark,
a brightness,
a pinprick of light,
a smolder
that roared into a flame
ready to set a sorrowful world on fire?

The hand of God at work -
taking this tiny group
like fine kindling
and blowing it into the flame
that would burn through the centuries -
a fire fueled with his own love,
bought by his own blood,
empowered with his own fire.

Come, Holy Spirit
And renew the face of the Earth,
spreading your flame
heart to heart,
soul by soul
rekindling, renewing, recharging
the light of your love
in the hearts of all who call Jesus Lord.

Let we who are warmed by your fire
spread these flames
hand to hand,
touch by touch,
life to life
until the whole world is emblazoned
with your touch,
the unquenchable fire
of the love of God
for this sad and undeserving world.

Amen.

Susan E Stone, 2006

Labels: Holy Spirit, Jesus' Love, Pentecost

How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of him who brings good news,
publishing the glad tidings of peace,
announcing the word of salvation,
who says to Zion,
Your God reigns!

Gospel,
Godspell,
God's story,
Love's story,
how the rejected Lover
reclaimed his bride,
how the willful child
found a loving Father
in spite of his actions
how the contrite found hope,
how the sinful, redemption,
the brokenhearted, healing.

See how the guardians
in their watchtowers
call out the news -
joy unbounded
in the songs that angels sang
to the outcasts with their flocks,
to the poorest of the poor,
how God himself
came to rescue them,
be one with them,
sleeping in a stable,
refusing the palace.

The Lord,
the Lover,
the King,
baring his arms in the glory of his might,
the amazement of his birth,
the wonder of his death,
the splendor of his ressurection,
and to all the ends of the earth,
he proclaims his salvation

O sing forth,
this story of Love,
how the Lover stretched out his arms,
embracing the world,
crucifex,
down to the darkness of death,
shattering its gates
to bring forth
unutterable joy.



Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Jesus' Love, Praise and Thanksgiving

Perfect little baby,
Mary's little son,
lying in her loving arms
While Joseph looks on,
The joy of his mother,
God's only son,
and the heavens sing out their song
while shepherds look on.

Wondrous young man,
Mary's little son,
sitting in the temple
while the teachers looked on.
Frightened was his mother
for God's only son,
Feeling how the sword would feel
As she searched on.

Battered was his body,
Mary's precious son
as they pulled him off the cross
as soldiers looked on.
The sorrow of his mother
for God's only son
when they laid him in her lap
so hard to look on.

Empty was the tomb
Gone was Mary's son
when the stone was rolled away
as soldiers ran on.
The joy of his mother
for God's only son
Still echos in that empty tomb
As Heaven sings on.


Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Gospel, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Jesus said to the crowds:
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”
Matthew 11: 28-30

In your arms O Lord
let me cast all my weariness,
fear,
sadness,
loss.
In your eyes I see love,
in your touch,
healing,
in your voice,
caring,
and in your presence,
peace.

O Lord,
how could I know
that there was just a Jesus shaped hole
in my heart,
that only you can fill,
although so many times
I have tried to fill it
with friends
and work
and money
and things
and hobbies
and pleasure
and yet,
only you can take that emptiness
and turn it into joy.

In your rest,
I find my hope.
In your peace
I find my tomorrow
and in your joy
I know
that you are the one good thing
I need,
and when all other pleasures fail,
and friends turn away,
and things wear out,
you will still be there,
the same today as yesterday,
waiting to take me to tomorrow.

Deo gratias.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: God Our Shelter, Jesus' Love

Domine, non sum dignus, ut intres sub tectum meum: sed tantum dic verbo et sanabitur anima mea.

Lord, I am not worthy,
how could I be worthy with all my darknesses and wounds,
worthy to greet you, Lord of the universe,
worthy to look upon you,
worthy to be here.

Only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

And now you call me Lord,
call me to step out in faith,
here,
at this minute,
as bravely as the Centurion,
to step out in trust,
to step out in love,
in awe.
And now, my faith is on the line, Lord.
Let me say, Jesus I trust in you,
and mean it from the bottom of my heart.
Let me say, yes, Lord,
that even after 2000 years,
after all the travail and anger,
doubt and hurt
revolving around your name,
your followers,
your way,
I believe you are here,
here at this moment,
Emmanuel, God with us,
with us in the Eucharist.

Yes Lord, I know you are Lord,
O You who has pity for our soul-sickness,
our emptiness,
our hunger,
that Jesus sized hole in our hearts, aching,
waiting for you to say the word.

Only say the word, Lord,
only say the word,
that healing touch,
and I believe that you will come into my heart.

O Lamb of God,
O Bread of life,
You whose flesh is.real food,
You whose blood is real drink.
You who have called me, lost and underserving,
to your banquet,
You who sat me down,
dressed me in the white linen of a redeemed soul,
and now,
not because I could ever deserve it,
not because I could ever earn it,
not because of me,
but because of you,
But because of Love
but because you love,
you feed me with that, yourself,
which is the only thing that can heal me,
reconcile me,
make me whole.

I behold you, Lamb of God,
broken in the priest's hand.
I behold you at Calvary,
where you hang on the cross broken for love of me.
I behold you in the cenacle,
where you break the bread and say the words, "This is my body."
O Jesus!
My hope,
My King,
My God,
I am here, kneeling in adoration.
Be thou my life, my hope, my Lord.

Adore te devote, latens deitas!

Lord I am not worthy,
I can never be worthy,
but because you say the word,
but because you call me to you,
my soul will be healed.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Eucharist, Jesus' Love, Loving God

On that day
the Root of Jesse
shall stand as a sign, a banner, a signal
to the nations,
and the Gentiles shall seek him, inquiring,
for his place of rest shall be glorious.

What sign did he give us?
A babe so poor
that he sleeps in a stable,
laid to rest in a feeding trough
for lack of a bed,
A babe so special
that the heavens could not contain their joy,
for Love had wrought what only Love can do,
Giving all in the name of Love,
no matter what the cost.

What sign did he give us?
A beacon on a hill,
Arms outstretched
in bloody sacrifice,
he the lintel,
he the blood offered
He the lamb consumed
in this new Passover,
for Love had wrought what only Love can do,
Giving all in the name of Love,
no matter what the cost.

What sign did he give us?
An empty tomb
A discarded shroud,
A promise fulfilled,
Hope in the darkness,
Joy in his touch,
Peace,
for Love had wrought what only Love can do,
Giving all in the name of Love,
no matter what the cost.

O Jesus!
Where you are is the glory of God,
Be with me
O Love incarnate,
O Light,
O Peace,
O Hope,
This day, and always.

Amen.


Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Advent Nativity Epiphany, Jesus' Love, scripture

The road was dusty, that day, as usual.
He could taste the dust in the air,
the sun on his back,
smell the touch of spring in the air,
and his his darkness,
anticipation.

He could hear the crowd gather near his usual place.
ignoring him, wrapped in darkness,
abuzz with talk about the teacher,
waiting for something different to do,
waiting, perhaps,
to fan the flame of hope,
to warm themselves by his fire,
this holy man,
this wonder,
this healer,
teacher.

As the teacher drew near,
who had the kindness
to describe what was happening,
to feed that hope,
to help him to the right spot?

"Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!"
he cried as that hope burst into a roaring flame.
Others were not so kind,
pushing this useless beggar out of the way.
But the wildfire of his hope would not be silenced.
"Jesus, son of David, mercy!"
his voice rang out
as thrusts and pushes taunted his darkness.

A hush,
and the unkind hands fell away.
A kindly hand took his.
"Come, the master wants you," a kind voice said,
and led him through the darkness,
his heart beating like a drum,
the rocks crunching under his feet.

He could feel those eyes upon him,
he with no sight,
could taste the kindness of that smile.
"What do you want, friend? What can I do?"

"Lord, let me see!"

And in that moment, sunrise.

Lord, heal us
from our own blindnesses,
the darkness of our own willfulness,
and may we, too be brave enough to cry,
Lord, let me see!
and find in you our light.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Jesus' Love, scripture

Lord,
the pain wraps around us,
throbbing,
throbbing,
like the rhythm
of the hammer fall
piercing,
deeper,
lodging in the wood.

The pain,
oh the pain,
a woman crying out
as her loved one is slain,
a child shocked
at the blood
falling from a beheaded parent,
the armwrenching agony
as they hauled you,
nailed to the crossbeam
up up to the drop,
white pain electric
through your arms
as the beam found the mortise,
like the pain of the tortured
screaming beneath their captor's hands,
screaming as the electricity
screams through their bodies,
throbbing,
screaming,
the pain of being stripped
of everything but the paim
and the stares
as they gambled,
waiting for the blood to fall
for the breath to end
like guards at a starvation ward
waiting for thirst to end his praying,
like nurses piling blankets high
in the name of mercy killing,
the pain,
throbbing,
with each beat of your heart,
each hard sought breath,
like the pain of the deserted,
lost in the wilderness,
aching,
bereft,
afraid of the hand of man,
victim of terror,
victim of rape,
victim of starvation,
scurrying by night
seeing her child die,
like your mother,
watching each last breath,
dying inside
watching your death.

O Lord,
the pain,
you wrapped yourself around it,
accepted it,
tasted it,
drank it
down to the bitter dregs,
and bore all the burden
of man's evil,
of man's inhumanity
down to the pit of death,
walking each step with us,
walking each step along with us,
and accepting that last, lone breath,
shattered the chain.

Lord, in our grief,
hold us,
and tell us
as we unite with you,
as we live for you
you live for us,
and when the pain,
the last ache,
the last throb
is over and done,
you will take us
to where
pain is banished.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone
2005

Labels: Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness, Passion of Christ

O Light of Heaven
come down to earth,
come down in the guise
of translucent white bread
held in the hands of your priest,
lovingly
for all your children to see,
those who believe,
those who deny,
but reality is what it is.

If they could but see,
My Jesus,
the light cascading out,
like a supernova
pulsating
with tidings of peace and hope
and healing,
see the angel host
bowing down to the ground,
flashing their wings
in homage
and love
and overwhelming joy.

O Lord,
like a true lover
you come to us
vunerable,
fragile,
open,
waiting to be loved in return.

Fill our hearts with that radiant fire,
that joy that only comes from heaven,
until we, too,
blissfully,
happily,
fall to our knees,
and in response to our Lover's call,
our souls whisper,
adoro te,
amo te,
latens Deitas!

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Eucharist, Jesus' Love

I thought this collection of meditations I wrote about Jesus in the Eucharist might be appropriate now that the Plenary indulgence for Eucharistic meditation was announced. I don't normally re-run meditations, and I have sent all these out before, but I thought you might like them:


On Jesus in the Eucharist


O Bread of life,
You who offer yourself
to feed this sad, sin-sick world,
who joins us anew,
day after day
the living God
who comes to us in so fragile a form
that even a child may partake,
waiting patiently for those who love him,
waiting patiently to cure our sin-sick souls
with the light of heaven,
O blessed Lord,
I come to you,
unworthy but summoned,
undeserving, but loved.
I long to say,
Feed me, cure me, heal me,
I who have failed you time and again,
Yet when I see you there,
broken, poured out,
waiting for me,
all I can do is fall on my knees
in grief at my imperfection,
in awe of the depths of your love,
and only say
I adore thee,
I love thee,
help me to love thee more.



To Jesus in the Eucharist

Each time you come to us,
O Lord,
Body and blood,
Soul and Divinity,
in that simple guise of bread,
it is like a heartbeat of love,
coursing through our soul,
healing our wounds.
O Bread of Heaven,
Adoro te devote, latens Deitas!



Meditation on Jesus in the Eucharist

Oh my Lord,
I see you there, o Jesus,
in the form of bread,
so fragile,
so vunerable,
You, at whose name every knee will bow,
You, who sit at the right hand of the Father,
and yet are willing to come here,
feed us,
share with us,
wait with us.
You let yourself be broken
every day
for love of us.
Lord God,
Lamb of God
You take away the sins of the world,
yet to save our souls,
you feed us
with yourself.
O my hidden Jesus,
such a limitless love!
I weep with joy and sorrow,
I cringe with shame
but arise with wonder
that someone
would care so much,
would do so much
for someone
nowhere near worthy!



May We Remember

Lord,
May we remember forever
the depth of your sacrifice,
the heart's blood you gave,
the pain you chose to bear.
all for love.

Lord,
when we see you
in the guise of bread and wine,
so vunerable,
you who are king,
let us always feel amazed
at what you are willing to do,
all for love



Bread of Life

O Bread of Life,
whose very word can still
the storm raging in my soul,
who holds my life in the palm of his hand,
who washes me free from my sins,
who gives me his love without reserve,
who died in pain, the miserable death of a slave for love of me
who arose in marvelous glory, the firstfruits of his victory over death,
who forgives me,
who calls me home,
who feeds me with his own self that I might be made part of him forever

I fall down at your feet,
in gratitude and wonder and love.

Thank you Lord.



On the Eucharistic Lord at the Elevation

Lord, in your servant's hands,
you are lifted up,
high for all to see,
like so long ago, you were lifted up
upon the cross.
a spectacle meant to shame and kill,
but instead, brought life.

And in your priest's hands,
Glowing like a soft white beacon in the night,
you become our life,
the food for our famished souls,
the drink for our parched spirit
lost for too long in the desert.

O life-giving Master,
who feeds us again and again with his own self,
who waits day in and out
vunerable,accessible,
yet Lord of the universe,
to join us in joy
out of pure love.

Deo Gratis!


Susan E. Stone, 2003-2004

Labels: Eucharist, Jesus' Love

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Lamb of God,
you who chose the path,
step by painful step
from Gethsemani's dark shadows
up to Golgotha's stark hilltop,
the passover offering,
you who gave your blood
to mark the lintels of our lives,
and save us from the darkness,
have mercy on us.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Lamb of God,
you who bore upon your shoulders
the blood guilt of all of our sins,
the guilt, blacker than night,
each wrong word,
each blow,
each deceit,
from the fall to the end,
You, pure in your innocence,
freely bearing the darkness,
redeeming us
blood drop by blood drop
stripe by stripe,
nail by nail,
gasping breath by breath,
until carrying your burden
to the halls of death,
you gave birth to hope.
Thank you for having mercy on us.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
Lamb of God,
You who gave up all,
friends, mother,
dignity, honor,
anger,
hate,
and left us life, hope,
truth, love,
and salvation in return,
May we,
who cling to your cross,
grow to have a heart like yours,
a love like yours,
filled always with your truth,
light,
and peace,
this day and always,
Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

Your mouth tasted
of dust,
and blood,
and fear,
and pain.

Fear-
the knowledge of what was to come by sunset,
when you entered that darkness,
the pit that was awaiting you,
reward for your deeds.

Through the veil
of self-pity
and pain
and loathing,
you noticed the interplay
between the man in the middle
and those around him.

Jesus --
had you heard that name before,
heard of the healings,
the teachings,
the holiness?

How battered he was now,
scourged
and stripped
and wounded
and dying.

Jesus
healer of the blind,
promiser of hope,
now the victim.

Did you notice the women
who came to watch,
daring the mockery of the soldiers,
focused only on him?
No loved ones for you
to witness your last moments -
those who might have cared
long realizing
that you would only bring them grief.

Had you been moved
when the procession stopped
as he hit the ground,
and his mother found him,
gave him one last caress
before you were dragged off again?

Did you notice those who cared,
she who wiped his face,
those who wept?

When your gazes meet,
Jesus and yours,
Were you surprised to see the depths of love
that could love even in the wells of death,
the depths of pain,
even someone like you?
And in that moment did you see
the truth in the Roman's sign?


Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

In Praise of the Bridegroom

Who would have imagined
the bride price you were willing to pay,
drop by drop,
your own heart's blood,
spilled out,
a libation
spilled in pain,
sorrow,
triumph.

O Sacred Heart,
A lover's heart,
big enough to love the whole world,
with all its griefs,
and evils,
and sorrows,
and not turn away
in despair or disgust!

O Sacred Heart,
Source of all consolations,
you who would heal our every wound
through having been wounded for love of us,
and giving what we have no right to demand,
Bridegroom of a most unworthy bride
whom you clothe in dazzling white linen
woven from your own true love,
glory to you!

Susan E Stone 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

I know not why you chose
this way
to show us your love,
to embrace a slave's death,
a death of public humilation,
torture and pain.
I know not why you chose
to carry the rough wood
that your hands knew so well
how to shape and form
into so many better things
than a tool of torture,
or why you let them
pierce you,
but this was your choice.

O Lord,
let me never forget
that you really walked those steps,
felt the blows,
the roughness of the wood,
the pain,
tasted the blood.
You were there,
and you did it for love,
abandoning all,
until you felt even abandoned by the Father,
nothing left
but our sins,
the pain,
and the darkness of death.

What greater love story ever
was composed upon this sad earth?

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ

In the Shadow of Your Wings

Like a mighty rock
in a weary, sunburnt land
you offer me shelter
where there is no other.

You are the living water
to quench the burning thirst
of my aching soul.

You feed me with yourself,
sweet manna of heaven
the very bread of life.

Where else will I find my true home,
But in the shadow of your wings,
Today,
tomorrow and always.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love

Jesus the Healer

Yours is the healing touch
that helps us rise from our bed,
sick with the fever
that sin always brings.

Yours is the soft word
that brings us back to our senses,
frees us from the bonds
that sin always brings.

Yours is the word of command
that calls us back from the tomb,
wrapped in the shroud of death
that sin always brings.

Lord, on this, and every day,
may I rise up
like she who was healed of her fever,
to do your bidding,
in your way,
now and forever.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Emmanuel, Jesus' Love, Suffering

From the waters you rose
and Heaven bent down
to note the moment.

Your being there blessed the waters
with your perfect presence,
O you who had no need to wash away life's stains,
As you gave the waters their life-giving task
of giving men new birth
into your kingdom.

Thank you Lord,
for the channels of grace
you open to us here on Earth.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love

In the Beginning

In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.


In the beginning,
outside of time as we know it
before the clock of the universe started ticking
there you were,
The lover, the beloved, the love,
O my God.
And loving,
you began the clock
that led to this moment.

You brought us your light
to shine in our darkness,
to reveal the meaninglessness
we thought our lives to be,
who showed us the darkness
to be but shadows,
revealed to us the depths of your love,
your longing to bring us to you,
the price you were willing to pay.

You who created,
who breathed life into the lifeless world,
who, beyond all need to step into time,
came for love,
came to show us love,
came to be love for us.

Glory to you!

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Labels: Jesus' Love, scripture

Jesus the Light

In Him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. John 1, 4-5 NRSV


Lord, you are indeed
the fount of all holiness,
a fountain of light
tried by the hand of darkness
and found unconquerable.

The midnight could not quench the light
even when locked into the earth,
but with the indescribable fire of love,
you burst forth,
to set your light as a beacon to all men.

O unrepressible Light,
O annealing power of God
that heals our imperfections,
make me a mirror,
grinding away all my imperfections
until I reflect your light to all those around me.

Susan E. Stone © 2003

Labels: Jesus' Love, scripture

Meditation on the Love of Christ

He is the image of the invisible God.
(Colossian 1:15 )

O my Jesus,
seeing you
in all your joys and trials,
successes, and struggles,
it is comforting and amazing to know
that we see the love of our God in action.

You are no stranger who looks down on us
from heights we can never climb.

You know how it feels to be hungry
you know the taste of dust in your mouth
on a hot summer's day
and the need for that plain cup of water.

You understand how it feels to be tired,
or frightened,
or sad,
to be misunderstood
not only by strangers,
but by friends and family,
and those you care for most.

You are the god who understands why we tell jokes,
and can tell his own,
who knows the effects of a cup of wine,
and how to dance at a wedding.

You understand our tears,
the evil in men's hearts, even when they mean good,
and the good hidden in the hearts of evil men,
waiting to be brought to life.

And knowing all these things,
you still chose to die
that we might truly live.

Thinking of this,
I can only fall on my knees and say,
Praise the Lord and
Thank you!

Susan E. Stone © 2003

Labels: Jesus' Love, scripture