Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 149, the beautiful praise song which is part of the rousing conclusion of this Book:
Let them praise God’s name in the festive dance, let them sing praise to God with timbrel and harp. For the LORD loves this people, and adorns the lowly with victory.
Psalm 149: 3-4
Let them praise God’s Name in festive dance, for the Lord takes delight in them. Psalm 149: 3-4
Walter Brueggemann describes these final psalms here:
One of the richest deposits of such hymns of praise is at the conclusion of the Psalter in Psalms 146–150, in which the particulars of psalmic praise wanes, and the exuberance of praise becomes more vigorous and bold. In Psalm 148, the singers can imagine all creation, all creatures, including sea monsters and creeping things, united in praise of YHWH. By the culmination of the sequence in Psalm 150, there is a total lack of any specificity, and users of the psalm are invited to dissolve in a glad self-surrender that is to be enacted in the most lyrical way imaginable. Such praise is a recognition that the wonder and splendor of this God—known in the history of Israel and in the beauty of creation—pushes beyond our explanatory categories so that there can be only a liturgical, emotive rendering of all creatures before the creator.
Walter Brueggemann: From Whom No Secrets Are Hid
For me, these final psalms are like a resounding cymbal crash at the masterpiece’s end. It is a prayer simply to let these glorious lines sing and dance in our hearts:
Hallelujah! Sing to the Lord a new song; sing the praises of God in the beloved community. Let us rejoice in our maker; let us be joyful in our sovereign God. Let us praise the name of the Lord in the dance; let us sing praise to God with timbrel and harp. For the Lord takes pleasure in this people and adorns the poor with victory. Let the faithful rejoice in triumph; let them be joyful even as they rest.
Psalm 149
No poem today. Instead two pieces of music to delight in Psalm 149
Total Praise: One of my favorite hymns beautifully performed here in sign language.
2. Psalm 149 by Antonín Leopold Dvořák, original Czech. English version and sample of music below.
Many things live, not just the plants, animals and humans that grace our world. Memories and promises live. Vows live. Unlike our physical life, these less tangible realities become stronger with time. Tales of valor and achievement live, often becoming epic with the passing of the years.
Mercy lives too, blessing not only the current receiver, but the unseen generations to whom it is passed.
Every morning, old fears and new hopes wake up within us all. They vie with each other to become the engines of our lives. The happy ones among us have learned to let hope win.
Mother Patricia Waldron outside Merion’s chapel building, holding a flower.
On this date August 22, 1861, a small group of just such happy, hopeful people came to Philadelphia. On that hot August afternoon, the first Philadelphia Sisters of Mercy, led by 26-year old Patricia Waldron, arrived at Broad Street Station in North Philadelphia. They carried no worldly possessions. They came with only a dream for Mercy. It was a dream so alive in them that it still inspires us today, 160 years later.
Can’t you see them standing on the busy platform, the hissing steam trains encircling them in mist? They must have felt “be-misted” themselves, these mostly Irish country girls engulfed in a big city.
Union troops heading south crowded the platform. Busy Broad Street crackled with news of the burgeoning national strife. Lincoln himself would visit the city in the coming weeks.
And hidden within the seams of this bustling city’s garment lay the poor – the ones for whom they had come. How to reach them? How to help them change their lives?
Ranging from sixteen to twenty-seven years old, these brave young women had been charged with establishing a kind of “new nation” themselves – not of politics, but of mercy. No doubt they, like the young stout-hearted soldiers surrounding them, were also a little weak-kneed. They too had their battles to face. They too would see starvation, illness, attack and death – but their spirits would endure for the sake of the Mercy dream, God’s dream for the poor.
Mercy Cemetery – Merion, PA
Enduring dreams begin with small first steps. So, hailing a horse-drawn carriage, Mother Patricia Waldron led her young band to their new lives. At first, they lived in a small house in Assumption Parish, Philadelphia.
Not too much later, the growing band moved to the venerable Broad Street Convent, now of happy memory.
Convent of Mercy – Broad Street and Columbia Avenue, Philadelphia
Thus, on this date, Mother Patricia and her companions began the grace-filled saga many of us know so well and of which we are a part today. Their dream lives in us who love Mercy:
in our continued effort to find those who are poor and sick in a world that ignores them
in our choice to be compassionate in a world that often chooses violence
in our commitment to care in a world of treacherous indifference
On that sultry August day 1861, and on this one 2021, people have choices to make. They have vows and promises to keep. Some choices live forever. In the name of Mercy, what will you choose today?
Sister Jeanette Goglia conducts “Circle of Mercy” at the Sesquicentennial celebration at Philadelphia’s Kimmel Center.
Click white arrowhead above to hear Circle of Mercy
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, as we pray with Psalm 34, our Sunday readings present us with spiritual ultimatums.
In our first reading, sensing his impending death, Joshua gathers the tribes on the Great Plains of Shechem – the land of their father Abraham. Joshua requires a commitment from the people:
“If it does not please you to serve the LORD, decide today whom you will serve … As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.”
Joshua 24:15
In other words, “fish or cut bait” – you’re either with God, or you’re not. And your lives should reflect the choice.
In our Gospel, Jesus too feels death’s approach. His teachings have become more intense and direct, particularly regarding the Eucharist. This intensity has caused some of his listeners to waver. They’re not sure they can accept his words. Some drift away.
Jesus challenges the Twelve, those on whom he depends to carry his message after his death.
“Do you also want to leave?
These readings talk about the big choices, the soul’s orientation, either:
to seek and respond to God in our daily interactions
to be indifferent toward God’s Presence in our lives
Jesus’s question is before us all the time? Do we hear it?
(As for the unfortunate and contested second reading from Ephesians, this long but superb article from Elizabeth Johnson is worth your time.)
You see, I want a lot.
Perhaps I want everything:
The darkness that comes with every infinite fall
And the shivering blaze of every step up.
So many live on and want nothing
And are raised to the rank of prince
By the slippery ease of their light judgments
But what you love to see are faces
That do work and feel thirst…
You have not grown old,
And it is not too late to dive
Into your increasing depths where life
Calmly gives out its own secret.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 128. It describes the blessed scene that might ensue from the kind of hopeful and just community described in yesterday’s reflection. Because of its final verse, I like to think of it as a “Grandparents’ Blessing”.
Happy are they all who fear the Lord, and who follow in the ways of God! You shall eat the fruit of your labor; happiness and prosperity shall be yours. Your beloved shall be like a fruitful vine within your house, your children like olive shoots round about your table. The one who fears the Lord shall thus indeed be blessed. The Lord bless you from Zion, and may you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life.
May you live to see your children’s children; may peace be upon your household.
In our Gospel, Jesus tells us that we achieve such blessedness by actions, not simply by words.
Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach but they do not practice.
Matthew 23: 1-3
I took that admonition to heart today. I do a lot of “preaching” on these pages. Following the example of Jesus, I need to see if those words come to life in my actions.
Are you with me?
Poetry: The Words We Speak – Hafiz
The words We speak Become the house we live in. Who will want to sleep in your bed If the roof leaks Right above It? Look what happens when the tongue Cannot say to kindness, “I will be your slave.” The moon Covers her face with both hands And can’t bear To look.
Music: Without Words – Bethel Music
Just a pretty cool instrumental to reflect with today.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 146, chosen today to complement our first reading which is a rare lectionary passage from the Book of Ruth. In it, we meet Naomi who is, at one point, widowed and alone.
The fatherless and the widow the Lord sustains, but the way of the wicked is thwarted.
Psalm 146:9
Ruth Carries Her Gleanings – James Tissot
The Book of Ruth is familiar to many of us because some of its charming story and verses seem a lovely fit for weddings and anniversaries. But in some ways, that isolated use tends to trivialize the powerful messages embedded in this short volume.
If we have a limited view of the Book of Ruth, Psalm 146 can help us widen it. The psalm points to elements central to a hopeful and just community, to a community in right relationship with God. This too is a core message of Ruth.
It is a community strengthened by compassion, loyalty, inclusivity, trust, hope and grateful praise. Each character, at some point in the story’s unfolding, exhibits some aspect of God’s merciful nature and steadfast attachment to us. They put flesh on the psalm’s Antiphons:
Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help! For their hope is in the Lord their God, who made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them; who keeps promises for ever; who gives justice to those who are oppressed, food to those who hunger and sets the prisoners free. The Lord opens the eyes of the blind! The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down and loves the righteous. The Lord cares for the stranger and sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked. The Lord shall reign for ever, your God, O Zion, throughout all generations. Hallelujah!
Ruth was the great-grandmother of David and blood ancestor of Jesus. Her story, and the tender mercy it declares, foretells the character of the Beloved Community Christ will establish.
The heart of that community – our community – is aptly described in today’s Gospel. When the Pharisees ask Jesus what is most important, he replies:
You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.
Ruth already knew what was most important. May we learn it deeply from her story.
Poem: Ruth and Naomi by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825-1911), an African American abolitionist and poet. Born free in Baltimore, Maryland, she had a long and prolific career, publishing her first book of poetry at twenty and her first novel, the widely praised Iola Leroy, at age 67.
"Turn my daughters, full of woe,
Is my heart so sad and lone?
Leave me children — I would go
To my loved and distant home.
From my bosom death has torn
Husband, children, all my stay,
Left me not a single one,
For my life's declining day
Want and woe surround my way,
Grief and famine where I tread;
In my native land they say
"God is giving Jacob bread.”
Naomi ceased, her daughters wept,
Their yearning hearts were filled;
Falling upon her withered neck,
Their grief in tears distill'd.
Like rain upon a blighted tree,
The tears of Orpah fell
Kissing the pale and quivering lip,
She breathed her sad farewell.
But Ruth stood up, on her brow
There lay a heavenly calm;
And from her lips came, soft and low
Words like a holy charm.
"I will not leave thee, on thy brow
Are lines of sorrow, age and care;
Thy form is bent, thy step is slow,
Thy bosom stricken, lone and sear.
Oh! when thy heart and home were glad,
I freely shared thy joyous lot;
And now that heart is lone and sad,
Cease to entreat — I'll leave thee not.
Oh! if a lofty palace proud
Thy future home shall be;
Where sycophants around thee crowd,
I'll share that home with thee.
And if on earth the humblest spot,
Thy future home shall prove;
I'll bring into thy lonely lot
The wealth of woman's love.
Go where thou wilt, my steps are there,
Our path in life is one;
Thou hast no lot I will not share,
'Till life itself be done.
My country and my home for thee,
I freely, willingly resign,
Thy people shall my people be,
Thy God he shall be mine.
Then, mother dear, entreat me not
To turn from following thee;
My heart is nerved to share thy lot,
Whatever that may be.”
Music: Ruth’s Song – Marty and Misha Goetz
(Verse 1) All my life, I have wondered Wondered where I might belong Feeling lost, like a stranger Wandering far all on my own (Verse 2) Without a home. Without a people Without a hope, without a prayer Without a way, that I could follow Then I turned, and you were there (Chorus) Where you go, I will go Where you stay, I will stay forever Where you lead, I will follow So I can know the one you know (Verse 3) Under his wings, you found a shelter You have no fear, you have no shame And when you call, he seems to answer He even seems to know your name (Chorus) (Bridge) Then somehow should I find his favor I won’t look back on all I’ve known Your people then will be my people And Your God my God alone (Chorus) Where you go, I will go And you know I will never leave you Not even death, will ever part us Now that I know the one you know I will go now, where you go
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 40, and wow, do we need it after an astounding heartless first reading!
The Return of Jephthah by Giovanni Antonio Pellegrini The Yorck Project ( Public Domain)
The story of Jephthah and his daughter is one of the most disturbing in the Bible! It contains so many flaws in faith and reason that it becomes almost unusable for prayer. Then again, maybe that’s the very reason we should pray with it.
Jephthah:
was so full of his own lust for victory that he made a promise to God which God would never want.
was so focused on himself that he ignored the maxim against human sacrifice
had such a distorted concept of God that he made an excuse to kill on God’s supposed behalf
The lesson for me? Don’t be like Jephthah.
We can use God, distort God, and manufacture what we believe to be God’s Will. Countless people have done so down through the centuries and are still doing it. Just shake a history book, and a thousand Jephthahs fall out wrapped in other inglorious names.
We constantly see religion manipulated into a tool for political and personal aggression. The world is full of people who purport to know God’s Will for the rest of us.
Psalm 40 blessedly contradicts this kind of idolatry. We must never attempt to create God in our own image, to satisfy our own agendas.
Psalm 40 lists those practices that will help us to sincere relationship with God and God’s power in our lives:
steadfast trust
unvarnished honesty
humble praise
prayerful obedience
responsiveness to grace
Happy are they who trust in the Lord! they do not resort to evil spirits or turn to false gods. Great things are they that you have done, O Lord my God! how great your wonders and your plans for us! There is none who can be compared with you. Oh, that I could make them known and tell them, but they are more than I can count. In sacrifice and offering you take no pleasure (you have given me ears to hear you); burnt-offering and sin-offering you have not required.
Psalm 40:4-8
These virtues are powereded by a deeply prayerful and reflective life which roots God’s Goodness in our souls.
And so I said, “Behold, I come. In the roll of the book it is written concerning me: ‘I love to do your will, O my God; your law is deep within my heart.’”
Psalm 40:
Poetry: I Know What You Want – a Psalm 40 prayer by Rev. Christine Robinson
I have trusted You, Holy One
and waited for You.
When I was mired in misery
you touched me with your spirit.
You pulled me out
and set me on solid ground.
You put a song in my heart and work in my hands.
I praise you.
I know what you want from me,
and where the meaning of my life lies—
Not in rituals, offerings, sacrifices, or creeds,
just my heart; open to others, and open to You.
I try to live that way.
I fail often but you nudge and beckon and I follow.
I pray that my words, my song, my life
show forth your light and light others’ way.
May all who seek you find you.
Touch us with your spirit, that we may be glad.
Music: Take, Lord, Receive – John Foley, SJ
This prayer is the Suscipe of St. Ignatius Loyola found in the final part of his book, “The Spiritual Exercises”.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 21, a companion piece to Psalm 20. In these verses, the king asks for victory, receives it, and rejoices in domination over his enemies. The psalm follows our first reading from Judges which is a parable that criticizes Abimelech’s seizure of kingship over Israel by treacherous means.
Without getting too deep into the complex exegesis of these passages, suffice it to say that they invite us to consider the nature of leadership – its source, exercise, and meaning relative to our spiritual and moral life.
St. Augustine, in his commentary on the Psalms, teaches that Psalm 21 foretells the kingship of Jesus. This kingship (as opposed to that of Abimelech) is marked by humility, mercy, and obedience to the Creator.
We see a wide and confusing range of “leadership” in our world today, from figures like Pope Francis to Kim Jong-Un. But in our prayer today, we are given a very clear picture of what true leadership looks like.
A perfect leader is to God like the moon is to the sun. The leader only reflects the True Light given to them as a gift.
Recognizing fruitful leadership as a gift, they dispense it graciously to others as in our Gospel parable, imparting mercy even to those considered last in line for it.
In various circumstances, we can be either leader and follower. How do we invite Grace to inform us in either case?
Poetry-Prayer: A Leader’s Prayer – from xavier.edu
Leadership is hard to define.
Lord, let us be the ones to define it with justice.
Leadership is like a handful of water.
Lord, let us be the people to share it with those who thirst.
Leadership is not about watching and correcting.
Lord, let us remember it is about listening and connecting.
Leadership is not about telling people what to do.
Lord, let us find out what people want.
Leadership is less about the love of power,
and more about the power of love.
Lord, as we continue to undertake the role of leader let us be
affirmed by the servant leadership we witness in your son Jesus.
Let us walk in the path He has set and let those who will, follow.
Let our greatest passion be compassion.
Our greatest strength love.
Our greatest victory the reward of peace.
In leading let us never fail to follow.
In loving let us never fail.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 85, a prayer celebrating what God will accomplish through a listening heart:
I will listen to what you, Lord God, are saying, for you are speaking peace to your faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to you. Truly, your salvation is very near to those who fear you, that your glory may dwell in our land.
Psalm 85: 8-9
Our psalm flows naturally from our first reading in which Gideon listens to God’s messenger who has a nice visit with him under a terebinth tree. In scripture, many great revelations and conversions happen under trees and bushes – for example, consider the stories of Moses, Jacob, and Ezekiel.
Gideon and the Angel of the Lord by Julius Schnorr Von Carolsfeld
Gideon’s Angel is patient, lingering in the shade while Gideon lets the lamb (and the angel’s suggestion) stew a while in the quiet. It’s like that sometimes when we are trying to listen to God. We need a little time to hear through our circumstances to the real Word God is whispering to us.
It helps sometimes to go among the trees where angels always seem to nestle. It helps sometimes to mull over grace as we simmer a fragrant stew. It helps sometimes to quietly work a knitting needle or finger a rosary’s cool beads.
It helps to take a little time, a little silence and let God speak to us.
The range of Divine sound may be as gentle as a soft kiss, so that we must listen with a delicate heart. Or it may be as loud as an exploding volcano, so that we must resist the temptation to hold our ears:
Kindness and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss. Truth shall erupt from the earth, and justice shall look down from heaven.
Psalm 85: 11-12
However God wants to speak in our lives today, let’s invite that transforming Word. And let’s not only hear, but listen.
Poetry: God’s Word – Hildegard of Bingin
The Word is living, being, spirit, all verdant greening, all creativity. This Word manifests itself in every creature.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we meet the rich young man of Mark 19. Since the first reading and psalm would be challenging to pray with, I would like to offer this homily I wrote some years ago on our Gospel for today
Christ and the Rich Young Man by Heinrich Hoffmann
Most had come to the rolling hills beyond the Jordan because of the miracles: the crippled walking, the dead raised, the demons cast out. Who wouldn’t take an afternoon hike to witness such amazing things? They came with their blankets and lunch baskets. They came to see.
But today, Jesus is not about miracles. He is about teaching. And it is hard to listen to him. The words are gentle but incisive. Like small scalpels, they deftly strip away the listeners’ harbored illusions. He says things like this:
Become humble like a child.
The last will be first and the first last.
If your hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off.
Forgive seventy times seven.
His words challenge everything they had learned, believed, based their lives on! Nobody got anywhere in life by behaving the way he described! Jesus can see their consternation. What they had relied on – all that had justified their self-satisfied successes – lay now at his feet like a sculptor’s remnants.
Jesus pauses to allow a long silence to envelop their startled hearts. Quietly, he retires to a shaded grove to let his own heart settle. On the hillside, it is lunchtime. The large crowd bundles into small neighborly bands. They open their baskets and uncork their water-skins while the curative words begin the hard transformation of their souls.
But one man is not hungry – at least not for earthly food. He slowly approaches Jesus in his solitude, perhaps with a shy glance that asks, “May I come closer?” Jesus nods for the young man to join him. Settling beside Jesus, he asks, “Master, what must I do to gain eternal life?”
There is no lack of directness in this man. He comes bluntly to the point. But there is, nonetheless, a blindness in him. Jesus has already taken its measure even as the young man approached. His garments distinguish him from the rest of the crowd. His robe is fine linen not rude camel hair. He is not unshod, but rather wears sandals of expertly tooled leather. He carries no basket; it is held by a servant standing off at a modest but ready distance. He is so accustomed to his privilege that he is unaware of his difference from all those who surround him. He no longer sees his wealth, just as he no longer sees their poverty.
Commemorative Cross for the 150th Anniversary of the Philadelphia Sisters of Mercy, featuring the Works of Mercy. Designed by the late Robert McGovern
Jesus at once pities his obliviousness yet loves his sincerity. He tests the young man even though he already reads his heart. The questions are not intended to derail the man. Instead, Jesus leads him by a rabbinical path through the levels of spiritual commitment.
Do you understand true goodness?
Do you then keep the commandments?
Do you then seek perfection?
Will you then give everything you have to embrace it?
At this final question, the young man goes away sad, “for he had many possessions”.
Here Jesus defines for us the ultimate sticking point for a nearly committed person: “All you possess”. In other words, can we give everything in Christlike love?
The Christian ethic teaches us that this kind of self-donation is the only path to joy and salvation. Yet, it is a perfection few achieve. This failure in achievement leads to broken marriages, fractured families, rescinded vows and unfulfilled hopes. What is the secret to meeting its challenge?
Jesus may have given an answer two chapters earlier in Matthew’s Gospel. A desperate father has brought his possessed son to the disciples, but they are unable to cast out the demon. Jesus is frustrated with their impotence, saying, “How long must I be with you (before you learn)?” What is it that these disciples have yet to learn? Jesus goes on to tell them that if their faith were even the size of a tiny mustard seed, they would have the power, not only to cast out this demon, but to move mountains.
To live fully by faith is to live in the understanding that we possess nothing. Everything we think we have, including life itself, is a pure gift of God’s mercy to us. Abandonment to such understanding makes us truly rich and renders us divinely powerful. This is the continuing lesson Jesus is teaching his beloved disciples. This is the secret of eternal life to which Jesus tries to lead the rich young man. This is the daily invitation God places before us within the circumstances of our lives. Will we embrace it or will we go away sad?
(My long-term followers will recognize this reflection. It’s my go-to for the Assumption because it covers many avenues for prayer.)
Many of us grew up in households where we were surrounded by a strong devotional faith. I am happy to be one of those people. These simple, sacramental practices awakened and engaged my young faith and offered me a visible means to respond to its stirrings. These practices also gave my parents and grandparents the tools to teach me to love and trust God, Mary, the saints, and my Guardian Angel.
I remember with gratitude the many parameters of that deep devotion which accompanied our fundamental practice of a sacramental and liturgical life.
Our home had a crucifix in every room to remind us of God’s Presence
Over the main door was the statue of the Infant of Prague and the first Christmas card we had received depicting the Three Kings to bless us on our journeys.
All year, Dad’s fedora sported a tiny piece of straw tucked into its plaid band. He had plucked it from the parish Christmas crèche, near to St. Joseph who was his patron.
During a really violent thunderstorm, we might get a sprinkling from Mom’s holy water flask kept for especially taxing situations.
And, maybe because we live not too far from the east coast, we had one special summer practice. We went into the ocean on the Feast of the Assumption, believing that, through the water, Mary offered us special healing and graces on that day.
I can still picture young kids helping their elderly grandparents into the shallow surf. I remember mothers and fathers marking their children’s brows with a briny Sign of the Cross. There was a humble, human reverence and trust in these actions that blesses me still.
While that August 15th ritual, like similar devotions, might seem superstitious and even hokey to some today, the memory of it remains with me as a testament to the simple faith and deep love of God’s people for our Blessed Mother.
It was just such devotion and faith, expressed over centuries by the faithful, that moved Pius XII to declare the dogma of the Assumption:
“We pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.” (MUNIFICENTISSIMUS DEUS 44)
On November 1, 1950, Pope Pius XII defined the dogma of the Assumption in the Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus(The Most Bountiful God). The world at that time was still healing from the horrors of World War II. The Pope himself, no doubt, was wounded beyond description by what he had witnessed. One can hear his deep pain as he begins his letter by saying:
“Now, just like the present age, our pontificate is weighed down by ever so many cares, anxieties, and troubles, by reason of very severe calamities that have taken place and by reason of the fact that many have strayed away from truth and virtue. Nevertheless, we are greatly consoled to see that, while the Catholic faith is being professed publicly and vigorously, piety toward the Virgin Mother of God is flourishing and daily growing more fervent, and that almost everywhere on earth it is showing indications of a better and holier life.”
This belief is complementary to the dogma of the Immaculate Conception defined by Pope Pius IX in 1854. These two articles of faith embrace the totality of Mary’s life which was uniquely blessed among all humans. Mary gives us, in our humanity, both a model of and a supportive invitation to holiness.
Marie T. Farrell, RSM presents a scholarly and insightful essay on the Assumption here. Her work gives us a rich understanding of the theological layers within this teaching.
Sister Marie closes her essay with these words: Mary assumed into heaven and Spiritualised in her whole personhood is a prophetic symbol of hope for us all. In his Resurrection-Ascension, Jesus has shown the way to eternal life. In the mystery of Assumption, the Church sees Mary as the first disciple of many to be graced with a future already opened by Christ, one that defies comprehension for ‘…no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him…(1 Cor 2: 9)
Musical Reflection with Song below: Prayer of Pure Love ~ Letty Hammock and Sue K. Riley
Lavish Mercy 