Bless the Lord, My Soul
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGEjKV6eDxY&feature=related

Blessings, Vivian

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Amen

And

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; praise God, all creatures here below: Alleluia! Alleluia!
Praise God, the source of all our gifts! Praise Jesus Christ, whose power uplifts!
Praise the Spirit, Holy Spirit! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Your words touch me profoundly. How beautiful. Thank you. I can understand how you are overwhelmed with sadness and pain in your heart. That sometimes happens to me. In my case, my sorrow originates from the notion that I feel so bad that people don’t live by the teachings of Jesus in spite of his clear-cut and redeeming message of love and forgiveness. I feel like most of the world is betraying him – including me at times. The irony here is that his message is not primarily for his own benefit but for ours. How long will we all live as our own worst enemies hurting those we love?

I have never tried to pray “for” Jesus. I guess it doesn’t really make sense to me – at least at first glance. I do pray “to” Jesus and have tried to “comfort” him from what I perceived might have been his sorrow. I suppose you could pray “for” the separate, human Jesus. But how about the Jesus that is integrated into the Trinity? This is all too confusing for me – I know – they are one and the same … but then they are not? I suppose if you authentically convey to God what is in your heart, it will be understood and the communication appreciated. When it comes down to it, so much of it all is mystery.

dee

Yours is a very beautiful and moving message.

The poem I quoted comes from Thomas Merton’s book “Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander” and also “Thomas Merton, a Book of Hours”.

As for what it means to me to pray for Jesus, I suppose “praying with” conveys the idea better. Lately when I approach Jesus in prayer, I am overwhelmed with sadness and pain in my heart. It hurts and I weep. I think… I think that, since Jesus is Infinite Love and Love requires a willingness to suffer, I think that maybe Jesus still suffers… because he still loves. And that’s what it feels for me when I connect in prayer with him – that I’m somehow tapping into his Infinite Heart and he’s sharing his pain with me. Only after I have experienced this outpouring of sorrow do I then sense our Lord’s peace washing everything away and wrapping me in comforting stillness.

I don’t pretend to know why my prayer with Jesus is so intense. It’s downright agonizing, but… I can’t NOT go to him. I sit at his feet, with my head in his lap and just listen and talk to him, completely open to everything he wants to give me.

Loving greatly requires a willingness to suffer greatly. Maybe this is what Jesus is trying to make me understand. It’s not that he WANTS me to suffer, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’s drilling it home that True Love, Divine Love, is inextricably bound to True Suffering.

And one has to be willing to say “Fiat!” to both if one wants to be a faithful and loving disciple.

I read Nathalie’s post last night and thought about what she had written after my evening prayers; I was happy to see your response this morning. To me, this poem by Thomas Merton is a prayer to our Lord (but then to me, all of Thomas Merton’s writings resonate within my heart and bring me to prayerful and thoughtful moments):

“Today, Father, this blue sky lauds you.
The delicate green and orange flowers of the tulip poplar tree praise you.
The distant blue hills praise you, together with the sweet-smelling air that is full of brillant light.
The bickering flycatchers praise you with the lowing cattle and the quails that whistle over there.
I too, Father, praise you, with all these my brothers,
and they give voice to my own heart and my own silence.
We are all one silence, and a diversity of voices.

You have made us together;
you have made us one and many,
you have placed me here in the midst as witness, as awareness, and as joy.

Here I am.

In me the world is present, and you are present.
I am a link in the chain of light and of presence.

You have made me a kind of center, but a center that is nowhere.
And yet also I am “here.”

To be here with the silence of Sonship in my heart
is to be a center in which all things converge upon you.
That is surely enough for the time being.”