Posted by: Peadar Ban | July 22, 2013

Today: July 22, 2013

The heat has broken at last, the heat that had people almost in pain, flowers and trees wilting and birds abnormally quiet, panting in the steamy shade.  It’s just after 6:oo am and the temperature is not yet 70 degrees.  The air is still wet, though.  It feels a bit like walking around wrapped in a cool damp towel.

Under gray skies nothing stirs in this cool dampness but some hungry birds eager for the day’s first worms, and the bees, ever at their work among the blossoms.  Our Russian sage down by the mailbox is a particular favorite of theirs.  Yesterday I tried to count how many there were, but gave up.  The bees refused to stay in one place long enough for me to get an accurate count.  Were there thirty?  Were there even more than fifty?  There might have been, but who could tell.  It is a popular place.  Once in a while our mailman, Larry, hesitates just a cautious moment before he opens the mailbox, and another moment or so before placing the mail inside.  Perhaps he deserves hazard pay I sometimes think.  He doesn’t complain, though.  Our most regular and faithful evidence of government, and the most useful (?), never asks for more.  He completes his rounds while the bees, somehow aware, complete theirs.

Now the Cardinal in the maple tree dominating my neighbor’s front yard, the one that showers leaves across my lawn in the fall, but generously shades me on hot summer afternoons beginning promptly at 2:00pm, now the Cardinal sings his verse, the antiphon for Morning Prayer.  His Eminence is faithful in his work, as faithful as the mailman.  Every morning he begins from the same spot, at the same time.  When I heard him first I thought, this is something of a territorial note he sings, a proclamation that all I sing over is mine.  Now I choose to believe, as the jays in raucous choir answer, it is their liturgy of praise kept up all day as they wing through the woods around and hop about the lawns.

When light wanes and evening advances then he will return, and robins higher in the oaks and pines with him.  Theirs will be the last notes.



Here are some thoughts from others for your consideration today, which is celebrated as the Feast Day of St. Mary Magdalene in the Catholic Church, a place for people who need help, of which I am fortunate to be a member.  It is said that she died in Spain at the age of 72, having spent the last years of her life living in a cave.  I wonder, now how she spent her mornings.  Did she sit and listen, watching day break, waiting, waiting for the light?

Reflections from the Saints

Love tends to union with the object loved. Now Jesus Christ loves a soul that is in a state of grace with an immense love; He ardently desires to unite Himself with it. This is what Holy Communion does.

– St. Alphonsus Liguori

Life in Christ: Catechism #2344

Chastity represents an eminently personal task; it also involves a cultural effort, for there is “an interdependence between personal betterment and the improvement of society.” Chastity presupposes respect for the rights of the person, in particular the right to receive information and an education that respect the moral and spiritual dimensions of human life.

One Minute Meditations

Why do you always think that everything they say has a hidden meaning? By being so touchy you are limiting the action of grace all the time. And do not doubt that grace comes to you by means of those who fight to match their deeds to Christ’s ideal.

– St. Josemaria Escriva,
Cesar Franck is well known for the beautiful music he composed.  Here is something for the morning, I think, his setting of Psalm 150 for orchestra, chorus and organ.  This is another version of Franck’s piece by an orchestra and chorus of young people in France.  I loved watching the children play.  And, finally, Psalm 150 in English.  The composer is John Rutter.  May they all help put you in the right mind.


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