Holy Thursday Mass of the Lord's Supper

HOLY THURSDAY, is a day very dear to those who love the Mass and the most blessed Sacrament, for it is the day that Jesus gave us these great Gifts.

In the Mass of the Lord’s Supper celebrated in our parish, we remember and make present that Last Supper which Jesus shared with his disciples. We are in the upper room with Jesus and the Apostles and do what they did. Through the ritual of washing the feet (Jn 13:1) of 12 parishioners, we unite in service to one another. Through our celebration of this first Mass (Mt 26:26), we unite ourselves to Jesus and receive his Body and Blood as if for the first time. At this Eucharist, we especially thank God for his gift of the sacred priesthood.

After the Last Supper (which was the first Mass) the apostles and Jesus made a short journey across the Kidron Valley to the Garden where he asks them to pray and he experiences his agony (cf Mt 26:30). We too will process in Church with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament to the altar of repose. The liturgy ends in silence. It is an ancient custom to spend an hour before the reposed Blessed Sacrament tonight. We are with Jesus in the Garden and pray as he goes through his agony. Our parish church will remain open until midnight. It was near Midnight that Jesus was betrayed by Judas, was arrested and taken to the house of the High Priest (cf Mt. 26:47).

Msgr. Douglas A. Raun
Pastor
St. Thomas Aquinas Parish
Rio Rancho, NM

Life of Saint Anthony by Saint Athanasius -Saint Anthony receives his vocation

From the Life of Saint Anthony by Saint Athanasius, bishop
Saint Anthony receives his vocation

When Anthony was about eighteen or twenty years old, his parents died, leaving him with an only sister. He cared for her as she was very young, and also looked after their home.

Not six months after his parents’ death, as he was on his way to church for his usual visit, he began to think of how the apostles had left everything and followed the Savior, and also of those mentioned in the book of Acts who had sold their possessions and brought the apostles the money for distribution to the needy. He reflected too on the great hope stored up in heaven for such as these. This was all in his mind when, entering the church just as the Gospel was being read, he heard the Lord’s words to the rich man: If you want to be perfect, go and sell all you have and give the money to the poor—you will have riches in heaven. Then come and follow me.

It seemed to Anthony that it was God who had brought the saints to his mind and that the words of the Gospel had been spoken directly to him. Immediately he left the church and gave away to the villagers all the property he had inherited, about 200 acres of very beautiful and fertile land, so that it would cause no distraction to his sister and himself. He sold all his other possessions as well, giving to the poor the considerable sum of money he collected. However, to care for his sister he retained a few things.

The next time he went to church he heard the Lord say in the Gospel: Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Without a moment’s hesitation he went out and gave the poor all that he had left. He placed his sister in the care of some well-known and trustworthy virgins and arranged for her to be brought up in the convent. Then he gave himself up to the ascetic life, not far from his own home. He kept a careful watch over himself and practiced great austerity. He did manual work because he had heard the words: If anyone will not work, do not let him eat. He spent some of his earnings on bread and the rest he gave to the poor.

Having learned that we should always be praying, even when we are by ourselves, he prayed without ceasing. Indeed, he was so attentive when Scripture was read that nothing escaped him and because he retained all he heard, his memory served him in place of books.

Seeing the kind of life he lived, the villagers and all the good men he knew called him the friend of God, and they loved him as both son and brother.

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Precious Jesus

Precious Jesus,
Holy Gem,
Beauty, beyond my knowing,
You are God, hidden,
As diamond in the rough,
A Man, yet God, One.

It is for me
To desire You,
To call You,
To allow You,
God willing.

You will be my tumbler,
Life's crucible.
The Rock, chipping away
At my clay.
My stoniness,
Yielding its course substance,
While I journey.
Rude being honed
To perfection.

You polish,
And reveal
Light through my layers,
The Father, shining in You,
The Sun of His Being,
Resplendent now in me,
Made glorious
In You,
Precious Jesus,
Holy Gem.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Your Way, My Way

I wept on the way, O Lord.
Gratitude overwhelmed me,
For I had, at last,
Found my way.

Bending to me,
Your inclination
Gave me courage.
My garments were not pretty,
For a King to gaze upon,
But You saw only me,
Your creature in need.

I stirred Your Passion,
For it was for me
That You searched,
Despite my dishevelment,
You recognized Your Image
Stamped in my being.

You clutched me to Your bosom,
Covered me with Your mantle.
And carried me to the Inn Keeper.

In Your Church,
The treasures You deposited,
Ministered to my wounds.
Deep and resistant,
As the lesions were,
They yielded,
As I lingered long,
In the bed of my sorrow,
Beholding the cause
For my joy.

Your Way is all about me,
Though narrow,
So as to thread
The eye of a needle,
It is like Your broad Smile.

Graced virtue, Your gift,
Accompany me.
The world is as the meadows
Surrounding Your dwelling among men.

Flowers, in due season,
Spring up in my soul,
And fruit, You wait for,
Following the budding
Of my prayer,
Will be rich for Your taking.

I am the love you seek,
And the Love You,
From the beginning,
Have given.
For it is
In Your nature to Love
And in my nature
To be loved.
This is Your Way, my Love.
This is the Way I choose.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

Prayer for the Protection of Religious Liberty

O’ God our Creator,
Through the power and working of your Holy Spirit, you call us to live our faith in the midst of the world, bringing the Light and the saving Truth of the Gospel to every corner of society.
We ask you to bless us in our vigilance for the gift of religious liberty, Give us the strength of mind and heart to readily defend our freedoms when they are threatened; give us courage in making our voices heard on behalf of the rights of your Church and the freedom of conscience of all people of faith.
Grant, we pray, O heavenly Father, a clear and united voice to all your sons and daughters gathered in your Church in this decisive hour in the history of our nation, so that, with every trial withstood and every danger overcome—for the sake of our children, our grandchildren, and all who come after us—this great land will always be “one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Full of Grace

In my imperfection
I offer you the perfect.
Full of Grace,
Take up my cause.

Gracious God,
You have prepared grace
And holiness of life
For all men ,
Yet we are not ready
For Your wonders.

We delay.
We play with idols,
And take for granted
The universe that engulfs us,
As though it founded itself
And raised its own pillars.
We swim in a sea of plenty,
As though it is infinite.

Fool that I am,
May the Wise Virgin,
Trim my lamp
To light my way.

Holy Vessel of all graces
Waiting in Your labor
To bring us forth
And give us the Divine Life
Held in your treasury
For the Day
The Promised will descend from heaven
Into my soul,
And carry me,
With all your children
To that place of safe repose.

The imperfect, washed clean
In the waters of New Birth
Rising perfect with resplendent Light,
As swaddling and infusion,
From the God of the great breast,
And the womb of the Chased Virgin Immaculate.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Walking in the Fire

“They walked about in the flames singing to God.”

My will is to sing to You,

To walk in Your fire.

Your love is a mighty flame,

Alive with its purifying blaze.

Help me be as You are,

Pleasing in Your obedience.

 

© 2011 Joann Nelander

The Grace

All I can do is remain faithful,
When You are nowhere to be found.
You made promises,
And I answered, ”I believe.”

Now, I am left with my belief,
Bereft of vision.
Only memory sustains me.

I remember You,
And our days of love.
The world stole in with lies.
I would not listen.
The world would not relent.

It, too, made promises,
Promises it could not keep.
They, though, were sweet,
But always somewhere
Vinegar, an aftertaste.

I learned to discern,
To seek the light.
To fight the war with Faith,
Burnishing the Spirit sword,
And to wait.

I wait now.
I wait still.
I resolve to wait forever, if need be,
When You are nowhere to be found.


You made promises
And I answered, "I believe."
Your grace - that I still do!

©2011 Joann Nelander All rights reserved