Tag Archives: Christianity

Friday Thoughts: Young Mother Sewing

1 Reply
Mary Cassatt Young Mother Sewing 1900 Met

Mary Cassatt, “Young Mother Sewing”, 1900 (The Met)

.

A living faith works. It is always active, especially when we are docile to the Spirit.

When we walk by faith we see, we hear, we speak what God intends, especially when we are blind to the cares and anxieties of the world.

Small children are wonderfully active, superbly passive, and at times they seem completely blind, fantastically blind. They are alive. They see. They hear. They speak. They watch. They feel.

Mother Church calls all of us home, even when she is silent. She is always at work. She watches us even when her eyes are busy with the business of the day.

She sews. We just need to obey. To trust. To allow ourselves the freedom to lay across her lap.

In the short description upon the little museum card hanging beneath the painting shown above, God has planted great instruction. The work is by American impressionist Mary Cassatt.

According to the card, about the year 1890 “Cassatt redirected her art toward women caring for children and children alone—themes that reflected her affection for her nieces and nephews and the prevailing cultural interest in child rearing.” And then, after informing us that for this particular painting Cassatt “enlisted two unrelated models to enact the roles of mother and child”, the card completes its little catechesis by blessing us with a precious little anecdote and quote:

Louisine Havemeyer, who purchased it in 1901, remarked on its truthfulness: “Look at that little child that has just thrown herself against her mother’s knee, regardless of the result and oblivious to the fact that she could disturb ‘her mamma.’ And she is quite right, she does not disturb her mother. Mamma simply draws back a bit and continues to sew.”

God are we blessed. So blessed to have such a mother. All of us. Maybe give her a call today. Better yet, perhaps even stop by. She’d love that. She’d love to see your face. You’re always on her mind and in her heart. She lives in the closest church you can find, any building that truly houses her Son.

If she seems a little occupied with the “cooking and cleaning”, with all “the business of life”, don’t let that stop you or cut your visit short. No, throw yourself against your “mother’s knee regardless of the result and oblivious to the fact” that you could disturb your “mamma.”

 It most certainly does not.

“Mamma simply draws back a bit and continues to sew.”

.

.

—Howard Hain

.

http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/10425

.

Morning Thoughts: Discernment, Day by Day

2 Replies
Newburyport Meadows Martin Johnson Heade ca. 1876-81

Martin Johnson Heade, “Newburyport Meadows”, (ca. 1876-81) (The Met)

.

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town, spend a year there doing business, and make a profit”—you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow. You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.

—James 4:13-14

.

Our cross is daily

And so are our decisions

Step by step we carry

Step by step we decide

Our cross may change…its shape, its size

Our decisions, like shadows, mirror the cross

Lengthening, stretching, thinning out—seemingly to even disappear—only to return—heavier, shorter, more compact—practically on top of us

It all depends on the angle and the path of the sun

———

The Sun of Justice

The Son of God

He walked day-by-day

He was conscious of the hour

He knew when His hour was near

He knew when it was time to slip away

He knew

To heal a stranger

To correct a disciple

To teach the crowds

To challenge a scribe

When to stand still

When to be silent

When to turn the other cheek

When to forgive those who hunted Him down

Christ knew the hour of His sorrowful Passion

Christ Jesus knew how to embrace the Word of the Cross

———

The Son of God knew His Father was trustworthy

He knew how to die

He knew how to live

He knew how to love

Day-by-day

Hour-by-hour

Minute-by-minute

Moment-by-moment

Jesus carried His Cross

He made decisions

Only concerned with fulfilling His Father’s will

Walk like Him

Walk with Him

Carry the cross you discover each new day

Give thanks for the blessings that come in the shape of a couple of crisscrossed beams

Make decisions accordingly

Planning to do more is to presume

—to presume to know what cross you’ll need to carry a few moments from now—

Doing any less is to put the cross gently laid upon your shoulder down

.

But for you who fear my name, the sun of justice

will arise with healing in its wings;

And you will go out leaping like calves from the stall…

—Malachi 3:20

.

—Howard Hain

.

Friday Thoughts: Flight Into Egypt

4 Replies
Flight Into Egypt Henry Ossawa Tanner American 1923 Met

Henry Ossawa Tanner, “Flight into Egypt”, (1923) (Metropolitan Museum of Art)

.

A young lady and a good man. A tiny precious child. A tired donkey. An angel of God leading them by the lantern in his right hand.

You are one of them. You travel by night. Your party is small. But you are not alone.

The streets are empty. At least as far as you can see. Strange lands this side of the Red Sea.

Jesus is with you. He sleeps in your arms. He takes your family name. He rides upon your back. You walk a few feet ahead of Him to ensure the right and safe path.

You too are Jesus. Born a few days before. Completely wrapped up. Yet totally exposed.

Beyond the frame an onlooker more than watches. He paints the picture. He steadies the easel. He knows exactly where the finished work will hang.

.

.

—Howard Hain

 .

http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/16947

..

Morning Thoughts: Stench of the Cross

2 Replies
Rembrandt Begger Seated on a Bank (1630)

Rembrandt, “Beggar Seated on a Bank”, (1630)

 

For we are to God the sweet aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing...

—2 Corinthians 2:15

.

We see so many images of Christ Crucified. Museums and churches are full of them. And they should be. It is the greatest paradox ever told.

And to go along with the abundance of visual representations, there are of course also many artworks in written form depicting the Passion of Jesus Christ. Shelf after shelf can be filled with books containing the seemingly endless repertoire of poems, plays, and musical compositions based on the subject.

But none can capture the stench of death.

Smell moves us like no other sense.

It is so powerful. So quick. So nauseating.

Think of that the next time you’re riding the subway on your way to a museum. Think of that when a homeless man enters your subway car. Think of that when you’re tempted to switch trains at the next stop due to the stench.

Breathe deep instead.

Think of the stench. Think of that poor man—that poor sorrowful man dying right in front of you. The stench of rotting flesh. The stench of death.

No artwork that you’re on your way to see will bring Jesus and His Cross more to life.

Take a deep breath, and pray. You’re on holy ground.

Pray for yourself. Pray for the man. Pray for all those on board. Pray for the entire world.

Pray that that particular stench, that stench of death, right then and there, brings life.

That it brings life to hardened hearts.

That it brings life to senses numbed to the utter poverty of human suffering—suffering that manifests itself in oh so many ways.

That it brings life to what the world says can’t and shouldn’t be redeemed.

And give that gentleman a few bucks.

———

The Metropolitan Museum of Art recommends an entrance fee of twenty-five dollars. Do you know how much consolation that poor suffering Christ riding right next to you would receive if you gave him that much?

Do you know how cheap a price that is to pay to be able to get so close to a living breathing masterpiece of sacrificial life?

Dig in deep. Dig into your pockets. Dig deep into the reserves of your heart.

You will be amazed how such a prayer, such an act of compassion, such a “living faith”, will transform the stench of death into the aroma of life.

Breathe deep. Pick up your cross. Die daily.

Get over yourself.

What a breath of fresh air!

Now that’s truly an entrance fee.

And it’s worth every drop.

.

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

—John 12:3

.

—Howard Hain

.

Friday Thoughts: Exhaustion

1 Reply
Jerzy Duda-Gracz

Jerzy Duda-Gracz, “Golgotha of Jasna Gora”, (ca. 2001)

 

“Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life…”

—John 6:27

.

On a day such as this, our Lord, our God, our Savior Jesus the Christ was crucified.

It is hard to imagine just what He went through that long, hard day.

It is certainly a good exercise to meditate on Christ’s Passion. It bears great spiritual fruit.

This particular morning, exhaustion is on my mind.

I think of all those who are staggering out of bed. All those faces I shall soon see on the crowded bus, the claustrophobic subway car, the bitterly hot city street.

Of course those faces can also be seen in the suburbs and the country. Those faces are all over the place.

All those Josephs. All those Marys. All those Peters and Pauls. All those just like you and me, like yours and mine—all on their way to work—each carrying a cross made of wood, no matter what the job may entail or what the work may look like, no matter if the “work” performed results in “pay” or not.

Exhaustion. Being spent. Having been completely poured out. Nothing left but fumes.

And many whom I shall see this morning will return this evening to ungrateful companions: spouses, children, in-laws, neighbors…all those in their lives who they provide for, but who rarely think about the effort it takes to generate that provision—let alone, to say, “Thank you”.

Jesus kept walking.

Patience. Strength. Perseverance.

———

Lord, teach us. Show us. Show us Your blessed face.

Can we see You today in the tired, the taken for granted, the exhausted? Can we pour ourselves out on Your behalf? Can we serve those who serve others?

Can we be instruments of encouragement? Can we help the anonymous Jesus right next to us carry His Cross? And can we do all this in complete and perfect union with Jesus and all for the love of You, Lord God?

Father, can we continue to ask You questions such as these? Questions that bring us closer to You, and closer to the Passion of Your Dearly Beloved Son.

I love You, Jesus. Let me never take for granted Your crucifixion. Let me never take for granted Your exhaustive gift—a gift that took every bit of You and yet never runs out—a gift exclusively for me and at the very same time exclusively for each and every other member of mankind.

You, Lord God—Father, Son, Holy Spirit: Most Holy Trinity—are everywhere: on crowded buses, on claustrophobic subway cars, on bitterly hot city streets. You are all over the place. You are in so many who don’t even know that You are in them. Let me see You in them. And may that blessed encounter also be the moment in which he and she comes to recognize Your Divine Presence residing deep within.

You are God.

You died for each of us.

Your Passion continues.

On the Third Day, You rose again.

The Third Day is also today—this very day—this new and blessed day.

You are risen. You are risen, indeed!

.

So they said to him, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God?”

Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”

—John 6:28-29

.

—Howard Hain

.

Morning Thoughts: Looking Up

1 Reply
El_Greco,_The_Vision_of_Saint_John_(ca 1609-1614).jpg

El Greco, “The Vision of Saint John”, (ca. 1609-14)

.

The LORD bless you and keep you!

The LORD let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!

The LORD look upon you kindly and give you peace!

—Numbers 6:24-26

.

Look up from your keyboard. Look up from your desk. Look up from your kitchen table. Lift your chin. Raise your eyes toward Heaven. Literally, look up.

Align your face to the beam of light that descends upon you. An individual beam of light comes your way. It is just like the beams in heavenly paintings. White. Bright. Clearly separate from the other beams beaming downward. The beam that shines on you is as real as the beams that shone upon all the great saints. For what made them great was a real individual beam of light shinning upon each and every one of them.

God loves you. He watches you. He listens to you. He willed you into existence, and He continues to do so, right up to this very moment. If you are reading this, if you are hearing this, if you are thinking about this, if you are alive at this very moment in any form whatsoever, it is because God is willing it to be so. And it is not an indifferent willing. It is not a willing that comes and goes. It is caring and constant, it is love and more love.

———

Those of you who are old enough—who were around well before the digital age firmly took over—I’m sure you remember what it was like to go to a small movie house to see a true motion-picture film. The kind that was projected overhead and landed upon a big white screen. We heard that distinct clicking sound that accompanied us the entire time the movie played, and we saw above us—especially if we took our eyes off the attraction on the screen and looked slightly backward and upward—a beam of light that pierced the darkness all around us. And in that beam of light we saw small particles, small white specks dancing within the illuminated beam.

We knew that they were just bits of dust. Bits of dust not brought to life by the light, but instead brought out of hiding by virtue of the light. But to a child beneath that projected image, whether that child was six or seventy-six, they were much more than bits of dust. They were evidence. Evidence that something was going on, that something special was happening. Something magical. Something we didn’t have to understand. Something that no matter how much we understood the science of motion pictures still compelled us to go along for the ride. We simply, with childlike faith, chose to believe in the result landing upon the big white screen on the not-too-distant horizon—so “not-too-distant” that it all seemed within arm’s reach.

Those bits of dust, those imperfections—that under a different light would have gone completely unnoticed, been ignored, been wiped away, or sucked up into a vacuum—under these charmingly cinematic circumstances became an integral part of a wonderful life.

They might as well have been pixie dust.

———

Look up then. Look up and align your face to the great beam of light shinning down upon you. God’s love is constantly, unrelentingly being projected toward you. In fact, God’s love is what is projecting you into existence. If He stopped thinking about you, if He stopped loving you, for even a moment, the light that is your blessed existence would go out—the motion picture of your life would come to an abrupt end.

But He doesn’t stop. God never stops. And even when our earthly existence does fade to black, God’s light continues to shine upon us, upon our souls, if we accepted His invitation while here on earth. We just need to decide, to decide now, while here in body and soul, whether or not we want to take part in the greatest motion picture that could ever be: The feature film that never ends and is always—each and every scene, “beginning” to “end”—a happy ending without worldly comparison.

———

There are other options of course:

We could end up being stuck inside a very dark theater with no hope of another show ever being shown again. With absolutely no way out. We might be tempted to call such a place “hell”.

Or:

We could end up being stuck inside a very dark theater with no show currently being shown, and no idea when one will be shown—but still with the hope that eventually one will come—but then again, we’d also be painfully aware that it could be a really long time, a really long agonizing wait. We might say that that sounds a lot like “purgatory”.

Heaven, on the other hand, who knows? No one can say for sure how wonderful it is, unless he or she has already been there. All we know is that it is infinitely better than our wildest dreams. And all we can do while we wait is imagine.

———

I don’t know about you, but the thought of one of those old silent films—where at the end, a couple madly in love heads off hand-in-hand toward a bright horizon—makes me smile.

It may seem silly, but perhaps going to Heaven is something like that. Perhaps the light that passed overhead our entire time here on earth—turning bits of dust into miraculous signs—becomes the film itself, pulling us into the screen, projecting us into the joyous end of what is now a wonderfully silent movie—transforming what was once only make-believe into something abundantly and eternally real.

———

Look up. Choosing such an ending begins with becoming holy.

Yes, it is possible. No matter how bad we are it truly is possible, by God’s grace.

For holiness is not reserved for the chosen, privileged few. No, holiness is what makes common folks reserved and privileged.

And holiness begins by staring into what is already there: The light of God’s love projected upon us.

Look up.               Look inward.               Pray.

.

“Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love him.”

—1 Corinthians 2:9

.

—Howard Hain

.

Friday Thoughts: A Silent Film

2 Replies
rembrandt the-three-trees-1643

Rembrandt, “The Three Trees”, 1643 

.

“But when he saw the crowds, he was moved with compassion…“

—Matthew 9:36

.

What we can never do

What we can never say

What we can never express:

Love

Pure Love

Melted into a single drop of His blood…

.

“And Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed His last.”

—Mark 15:37

Rembrandt_The_Three_Crosses_1653

Rembrandt, “The Three Crosses”, 1653

….

—Howard Hain

.

Morning Thoughts: God Waiting On Us

1 Reply
God the Father Cima da Conegliano c 1515

Cima da Conegliano, “God the Father”, c.1515

 

How sweet to my taste is your promise!

—Psalm 119:103a

.

We all know well that we often need to be patient. In fact, we always need to practice patience.

We pray, we ask, and most times we need to wait. Waiting in faith on God.

We continually need to be reminded that God always hears us and always answers, always—just not always according to what we think best.

God answers in a perfect manner: He answers with what will best nourish our growth into salvation at that current moment in our particular journey toward Eternity.

Sometimes though the waiting is on the other side. Sometimes God is waiting on us. For God showers us with so many blessings, with so much grace—and at the same time He gifts our nature with free will—the freedom to accept or reject: to say “yes”, “no”, or “maybe so”.

These “circumstances” quite often result in a “backlog” of grace. Not that God ever runs dry or is stingy in dishing it out. No, of course not, the “backlog” is caused by us, when we do not properly use our free will to accept what God offers. And God, being pure kindness, in His perfect love honors our choice. He is patient with us. He waits.

We need to receive what He has already offered, previously sent, and is still pouring out upon us, before additional grace and blessings could possibly do us good.

God of course could make us instantly receive and utilize all the gifts that He offers. God can do anything. But He loves us so much that He wants us to participate and cooperate with Him, to co-labor, and doesn’t that make sense?

For when you love someone you want him or her to receive the maximum blessing, the maximum peace, the maximum joy that he or she can possibly receive. And God by not forcing Himself or His gifts upon us, is giving us just that opportunity—the opportunity to be part of His victory.

Put is this way, is it more fun to go to a victory celebration for someone you watched win from afar, or is more joyous to be part of the victory itself, to have actually contributed to the very victory that is being celebrated?

Participation always enhances.

God allows us to participate. It is one of the greatest signs of His love. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. (John 3:16) And God allows us to share in that very sacrifice, that very victory over death itself.

But of course with participation comes some sweat, some effort, some trials, some moments of stepping into uncomfortable spaces—sometimes some extremely uncomfortable and painful circumstances. But be not afraid:

For those who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.

For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!”

The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God,

and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8:14-17)

———

So the next time we are about to ask something of God, perhaps each one of us should consider this: Maybe we should first ask for the grace to fully receive the blessings, the love, the mercy, the grace that He has already sent our way but that we have not yet fully accepted or received.

For when we fully receive, we always end up surprised—supernaturally surprised at just how much God has already done!

He is not only a step ahead of us, He is eternally with us.

God is great.

He pours down blessings.

The Blood of Christ is powerful beyond our capacity to understand.

His promises are so real that they are currently being fulfilled—for they are always being spoken—and what God speaks He does.

Ask. Ask God, then. Ask the Holy Spirit to teach us how to receive—how to graciously receive—and we’ll find that we also learn how to generously give.

———

Lord, may I receive the grace to receive your blessings: The grace to receive your grace.

May I be in a pure state of receptivity.

May I be purely passive within Your perfect presence—knowing that only then can I be effectively active—knowing that You are in complete control and have everything, every detail, perfectly worked out.

Help my unbelief!

Increase my love!

Deepen my trust in You, Triune God.

Thank You, Lord, for what You have already sent my way: The promise of eternal life, of permanent peace and joy, of love. Pure Love. Pure Perpetual Love.

Thank You for the gift of faith. The gift of prayer. The gift of Hope—Hope not only in eternal life but in the promise that You will always provide the help and assistance I need to reach eternal life and to do Your will while I travel through this world—a world in which I am a stranger—a pilgrim stretching forward, ever heading home.

May I practice profound gratitude by simply saying, “Yes”,

by simply saying, “Amen”,

by simply saying, “So be it.”

I do receive. I do accept.

And I do say, “Thank You, God.”

You are great.

I love You too.

.

—Howard Hain

.

.

Friday Thoughts: A Major Mary

Leave a reply
William-Adolphe Bouguereau Song of the Angels 1881

William-Adolphe Bouguereau, “Song of the Angels”, 1881 (detail)

 

…like newborn infants, long for pure spiritual milk

so that through it you may grow into salvation…

—1 Peter 2:2

.

A woman’s worth is measured by the love she bears for the Child Jesus residing within the person nearest to her.

She is priceless who beholds Jesus in each and every child—who sees all humanity as a child.

For the Mother of God holds each and every human being as if each and every one of us is the Son of God.

May we all see that woman in our life.

And may we all encourage every woman we encounter to nurture this divine gift—a gift held within the immaculate core of each and every instance of Mary’s Immaculate Heart:

The dignity of being God’s beloved daughter.

———

Just yesterday morning, I saw such a woman in the bakery. She told me of her own mother’s recent death. She spoke so lovingly, so faithfully. Her face was aglow. I felt such joy, such happiness, such hope in the promise of eternal life.

She handed me a prayer card from the funeral parlor. And there atop the rear side of the card—on the corresponding back chamber of the image of Jesus’ Most Sacred Heart gracing the front—I saw the face of a small delicate woman. A ninety-two-year-old beautiful little girl.

A recent photograph, I was told. And yet, it was ageless:

Holy Simplicity.

The Wisdom of God.

The “uneducated” schooled in the school of the divine.

———

She told me how blessed she was to be able to see her mother before she passed away. She traveled from New Jersey out to California to be with her. She said there was so much love, the presence of family, so much peace. The grace of a peaceful death. But then my friend showed a moment of remorse. She was not there at the exact moment of her mother’s death. She was already on a plane heading back to New Jersey when her dear mother departed for our one shared eternal home.

I thought of the Cross. The shape written in the sky. The plane speeding across a blue sea of crisp unpolluted air, leaving in its wake a white horizontal beam—while her mother’s soul ascends up toward heaven, slicing through her daughter’s path and adding to the celestial landscape—the vertical post of Christ’s Sacred Sign.

Life and death. Birth and rebirth. Time and eternity. The crisscrossing of two worlds, one temporary and fleeting, the other permanent and eternal.

The Kingdom is at hand, it begins right here, it resides within you and me—and if we have any doubt, all we need to do is stare a little more at Jesus stretched out upon the Cross—where we also find His beautiful, faithful mother standing by His blessed feet.

Faith and hope. Love and more love.

My friend’s remorse was short and fleeting. Together we raised our eyes back up toward Christ.

We let the Christ in each of us seek once more the face of the Father.

More peace and joy than even before. It seemed as if we’d both begin to sing. We hugged instead. A full chorus in heaven accompanied us.

.

…I have stilled my soul…

Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap, so is my soul within me.

—Psalm 131:2

.

—Howard Hain

.

Peaceful Thoughts: A Quiet Nap

3 Replies

.

A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

—Mark 4:37-40
.

.

Lord,

Teach me to be kind

Show me how to be gentle

May I always bring peace to each and every situation

May I never do harm

Let me always be merciful

Let me never judge and never condemn

I need you to teach me, to show me, to encourage me to be more like You

With Your help it is possible.

———

I believe in You, Father

I trust in You, Jesus

You, Holy Spirit, I know are always loving me

Please let there be peace

Please let all the world be still

Please let all children hope and dream and know that You are God

The God of Kindness, of Gentleness, of Peace, of Mercy, of Forgiveness…

The God of Absolute and Perfect Love

The God who will never forsake us, whose promises are certain and real…

God, You are Love.

———

Let Your presence calm the waters

For the waves rock and the boat fills

And Noah has already come ashore

You, Lord Jesus, pray upon the mountain, You walk on water, You rest within the storm…

You still all

You question our faith

You tell us to simply ask

You promise that we shall receive more.

.

And the apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”

—Luke 17:5

.

—Howard Hain

.