May - The Month of Mary

It is now late April, and time to start thinking about one of my favorite months.  Soon we will have May crownings, Rosary processions and other special events to honor our Blessed Mother.  So take time this May for you and your family to honor Mary.  God Bless.  Joseph, Mary and Jesus, Saint Mary Goretti, Gaurdian Angels Ora Pro Nobis

Saintly Humility Quotes

I found these tonight some are quite good.

"God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6)

http://whitelilyoftrinity.com/saints_quotes_humility.html

Also, see Litany of Humility, Cardinal Merry del Val
http://sancteioseph.blogspot.com/2012/02/litany-of-humility.html

To be taken with love for a soul, God does not look on its greatness, but the greatness of its humility.
--St John of the Cross, OCD

“There is something in humility which strangely exalts the heart.”
--Saint Augustine

“It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.”
--Saint Augustine

He who wants to learn true humility should reflect upon the Passion of Jesus. (267)
-- St Faustina, Divine Mercy in my Soul

The soul's true greatness is in loving God and in humbling oneself in His presence, completely forgetting oneself and believing oneself to be nothing; because the Lord is great, but He is well-pleased only with the humble; He always opposes the proud.
-- St Faustina, Divine Mercy in my Soul

Do you wish to be great? Then begin by being. Do you desire to construct a vast and lofty fabric? Think first about the foundations of humility. The higher your structure is to be, the deeper must be its foundation.
--Saint Augustine

We should let God be the One to praise us and not praise ourselves. For God detests those who commend themselves. Let others applaud our good deeds.
--Pope St. Clement I

'If humble souls are contradicted, they remain calm; if they are calumniated, they suffer with patience; if they are little esteemed, neglected, or forgotten, they consider that their due; if they are weighed down with occupations, they perform them cheerfully.'
--St. Vincent de Paul

'The first degree of humility is the fear of God, which we should constantly have before our eyes.'
--St. Louis de Blois

The most powerful weapon to conquer the devil is humility. For, as he does not know at all how to employ it, neither does he know how to defend himself from it.
--Saint Vincent de Paul

Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues hence, in the soul in which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except in mere appearance.
--Saint Augustine

There is more value in a little study of humility and in a single act of it than in all the knowledge in the world.
--Saint Teresa of Avila

"It is no great thing to be humble when you are brought low; but to be humble when you are praised is a great and rare attainment."
--St.Bernard

Humility is the mother of many virtues because from it obedience, fear, reverence, patience, modesty, meekness and peace are born. He who is humble easily obeys everyone, fears to offend anyone, is at peace with everyone, is kind with all.
--St Thomas of Villanova

Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility.
--Saint Augustine

Indeed a humble rustic who serves God is better than a proud intellectual who neglects his soul to study the course of the stars.
--Imitation of Christ

A proud and avaricious man never rests, whereas he who is poor and humble of heart lives in a world of peace. The humble live in continuous peace, while in the hearts of the proud are envy and frequent anger.
--Imitation of Christ

It is a virtue and a prize to listen patiently to and put up with insults for the sake of God
--Revelations of St. Bridget

Humility does not disturb or disquiet or agitate, however great it may be; it comes with peace, delight, and calm. . . . The pain of genuine humility doesn’t agitate or afflict the soul; rather, this humility expands it and enables it to serve God more.
--St teresa of Avila

"Speaking absolutely, humility excels virginity."
--St. Thomas

'As patience leads to peace, and study to science, so are humiliations the path that leads to humility.'
--St. Bernard of Clairvaux

"No one reaches the kingdom of Heaven except by humility"
--St Augustine

" There never can have been, and never can be, and there never shall be any sin without pride."
--St Augustine

"Humility, which is a virtue, is always fruitful in good works."
--St. Thomas

"You cannot attain to charity except through humility."
--St. Augustine

"I make bold to say that it is profitable for the proud to fall, in order that they may be humbled in that for which they have exalted themselves.
--St. Augustine

The highest point of humility consists in not merely acknowledging one's abjection, but in taking pleasure therein, not from any want of breadth or courage, but to give the more glory to God's Divine Majesty, and to esteem one's neighbour more highly than one's self.
--St Francis De Sales

'There is no doubt that God will never be wanting to us, provided that He finds in us that humility which makes us worthy of His gifts, the desire of possessing them, and the promptitude to co-operate industriously with the graces He gives us.'
--St. Ignatius of Loyola

Humility makes our lives acceptable to God, meekness makes us acceptable to men.
--St Francis De Sales

Message of Our Lady September 19, 1846

The message was approved by the Catholic Church and was published in its entirety at Lecce. France, on November 15, 1979 with the imprimatur of Bishop Zola.
Published by the Shepherdess of La Salette with Imprimatur by Mgr. Bishop of Lecce.

"Well my children you will pass this on to all of my people."

Simple reproduction without commentary or controversy of the original edition of Lecce in 1879.

APPARITION of the BLESSED VIRGIN on the Mountain of

LA SALETTE the 19th of September, 1846

The following Secret was given by Our Lady to two children, Mélanie Calvat and Maximin Giraud, on September 19, 1846, while they were tending cattle on the mountain of La Salette, France.
"On the 18th of September (1846), the eve of the Holy Apparition of the Holy Virgin, I was alone, as usual, watching over my Master’s cows. Around eleven o’clock in the morning, I saw a small boy walking towards me. I was frightened at this, for it seemed to me that everyone ought to know that I avoided all kinds of company. This boy came up to me and said:
"Little girl, I’m coming with you, I’m from Corps too". At these words, the natural evil in me soon showed itself, and taking a few steps back, I told him: "I don’t want anybody around. I want to be alone." But the boy followed me, saying: "Go on, let me stay with you. My Master told me to come and watch over my cows together with yours. I’m from Corps."
I walked away from him, gesturing to him that I didn’t want anybody around, and when I was some distance away, I sat down on the grass. There, I used to talk with the little flowers of the Good Lord.
A moment later, I looked behind me, and there I found Maximin sitting close to me. Straightway he says to me: "Keep me with you. I’ll be very good."
But the natural evil in me will not hear reason. I jump to my feet, and run a little farther off without saying a word and again I start playing with the little flowers of the Good Lord. In an instant, Maximin was there again, telling me he would be very good, that he wouldn’t talk, that he would get bored all by himself, and that his Master had sent him to be with me, etc. This time, I took pity, I gestured to him to sit down, and I kept on playing with the little flowers of the Good Lord.
It wasn’t long before Maximin broke the silence by bursting into laughter (I think he was making fun of me). I look at him and he says to me: "Let’s have some fun, let’s make up a game". I said nothing in reply, for I was so ignorant I didn’t understand what games with other people were, always having been alone. I played with the flowers, on my own, and Maximin came right up close to me, doing nothing but laughing, telling me the flowers didn’t have ears to listen to me and that we should play together instead. But I had no liking for the game he told me to play. I started talking to him, however, and he told me that the ten days he was to spend with his Master would soon be over and then he would go home to his father in Corps etc...
While he was talking, I heard the bell of La Salette, it was the Angelus. I gestured to Maximin to lift his soul up to God. He took off his hat and was silent for a moment. Then I said: "Do you want to have dinner?" "Yes, he replied, let’s eat." We sat down and I brought out of my bag the provisions my Master had given me. As was my habit, before breaking into my little round loaf, I made a cross with the point of my knife in the bread, and a little hole in the middle, saying: "If the devil’s in there, may he leave, and if the Good Lord is in there, may he stay!" and I rapidly covered up the little hole. Maximin burst into laughter and kicked the loaf out of my hands. It rolled down the mountainside and was lost from site. I had another piece of bread which we shared. Afterwards, we played a game. Then, realizing that Maximin must still be hungry, I pointed out a place on the mountainside covered with all kinds of berries. I urged him to go and eat some and he went straight away. He ate a few berries and brought back his hat full of them. In the evening we walked back down the mountain together and promised to come back the next day and watch over our cows together.
The next day, the 19th of September, I met Maximin on the way up. We climbed up the mountain side together. I discovered that Maximin was a very good, simple boy, and would willingly talk about what I wanted to talk about. He was also very flexible and had no fixed opinions. He was just a little curious, for, when I walked away from him, as soon as he saw I had stopped, he would run over to me to see what I was doing and hear what I was saying to the flowers of the Good Lord. And if he arrived too late, he would ask me what I had said.
Maximin told me to teach him a game. It was already late morning. I told him to gather some flowers for the "Paradise". We set to work together. Soon we had a number of flowers of various colours. I could hear the village Angelus ringing, for the weather was fine and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Having told the Good Lord what we had learned, I said to Maximin that we ought to drive our cows on to a small plateau near the gully, where there would be stones to build the "Paradise". We drove our cows to the selected spot and then had a small meal. Then we started collecting stones to build our little house, which comprised of a so-called ground floor which was where we were to live, and then a story above which was to be, as we called it, "Paradise."
This story was decorated all over with different-coloured flowers, with garlands hanging from flower stalks. This "Paradise" was covered by a single large stone which we had strewn with flowers. We had also hung garlands all the way round. When we had finished, we sat and looked at the "Paradise". We began to feel sleepy and having moved a couple of feet away, we went to sleep on the grass.

II

When I woke up I couldn’t see the cows, so I called Maximin and climbed up the little mound. From there I could see our cows grazing peacefully and I was on my way down, with Maximin on his way up, when all at once I saw a beautiful light shining more brightly than the sun.
"Maximin, do you see what is over there? Oh! my God!" At the same moment, I dropped the stick I was holding. Something inconceivably fantastic passed through me in that moment, and I felt myself being drawn. I felt a great respect, full of love, and my heart beat faster.
I kept my eyes firmly fixed on this light, which was static, and as if it had opened up, I caught sight of another, much more brilliant light which was moving, and in this light I saw a most beautiful lady sitting on top of our Paradise, with her head in her hands.
This beautiful Lady stood up, she coolly crossed her arms while watching us, and said to us:
"Come, my children, fear not, I am here to PROCLAIM GREAT NEWS TO YOU."
These soft and sweet words made me fly to her, and my heart desired to attach itself to her forever.
When I was up close to the Beautiful Lady, in front of her to her right, she began to speak and from her beautiful eyes tears also started to flow.
"If my people do not wish to submit themselves, I am forced to let go off the hand of my Son. It is so heavy and weighs me down so much I can no longer keep hold of it.
I have suffered all of the time for the rest of you! If I do not wish my Son to abandon you, I must take it upon myself to pray for this continually. And the rest of you think little of this. In vain you will pray, in vain you will act, you will never be able to make up for the troubles I have taken over for the rest of you.
I gave you six days to work, I kept the seventh for myself, and no one wishes to grant it to me. This is what weighs down the arm of my Son so much.
Those who drive carts cannot speak without putting the name of my Son in the middle.
These are the two things which weigh down the arm of my Son so much. If the harvest is spoiled, it is only because of the rest of you. I made you see this last year with the potatoes, you took little account of this. It was quite the opposite when you found bad potatoes, you swore oaths, and you included the name of my Son. They will continue to go bad, at Christmas there will be none left."
At this point, I was trying to interpret the word "potatoes" (pommes de terre): I thought I understood it to be "apples" (pommes). The Beautiful and Good Lady, reading my thoughts, repeated thus:
"You do not understand, my children. I will tell it to you another way.
"If the harvest is spoiled, it does not seem to affect you. I made you see this last year with the potatoes. You took little account of this. It was quite the opposite when you found bad potatoes, you swore oaths, and you included the name of my Son. They will continue to go bad and at Christmas, there will be none left.
If you have corn, you must not sow it. The beasts will eat all that you sow. And all that grows will fall to dust when you thresh it. A great famine will come. Before the famine comes, children under the age of seven will begin to tremble and will die in the arms of those who hold them. The others will do penance through hunger. The nuts will go bad, the grapes will become rotten."
At this point, the Beautiful Lady, who was entrancing me, for a moment did not make herself heard. I could see, however, that she was continuing, as if speaking, to move graciously her kindly lips. At this moment, Maximin was receiving his secret. Then, turning to me, the Most Holy Virgin spoke to me and gave me a secret in French. Here is this secret in its entirety as she gave it to me:

Rosary

When you carry a Rosary, Satan has a headache. When you use it, he collapses. When he sees you praying it, he faints. Let us pray the rosary every time, so that he'll keep fainting.

Imagine what might happen if every Catholic in the world would pray a Rosary on the same day! We have an example in October of 1573, when Europe was saved from the invasion of the mighty Turkish fleet, by the praying of the Rosary by all Christians! So, on Good Friday March 29, 201 3 , let us all pray a Rosary for peace in the world and the return of moral values into our communities. If possible, please pray your Rosary between Noon and 3:00 PM. Also, please send this message to every Catholic you know.  Let's unite in praying one of the most powerful prayers in existence, for these intentions, on one of the holiest days in our Church year. God bless us all!

 

Fr. Goodwin's Spiritual Commentary on the Mass

For those who believe the Novus Ordo Mass is just the Traditional Latin Mass in English, please watch the above Youtube explanation by Father Goodwin of the Traditional Latin Mass - Low form.

Precious Blood of Jesus

One of the great treasures of the Church has given us is the feast of the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ.  The feast is celebrated on the first Sunday of July in the Traditional Latin Mass.  Father Michael Rodriguez relates in this Homily the history, benefits and the Chaplet of the Precious Blood.

Reclaim the Catholic Feast of Christmas

From the Remnant


It's time to take it back.

Editor's Note: Each year around Christmastime we post a slightly updated version of the following personal Christmas reflection which offers an alternate custom to the celebration of the great Feast. I wrote it some years ago, and every year since I receive email from new visitors to this site gently chastising The Remnant for not posting it earlier in Advent so as to allow time for families to adopt as their own some of the customs herein suggested.

Over the years many Catholic families have adopted the old Christ Child tradition, believing it to be a beautiful means of restoring the true meaning of Christmas while strengthening Catholic identity in children. And it can be gradually implemented, of course.

Santa Claus (St. Nicholas), for example, can still be invited to visit the Catholic home on Christmas morning but in a dramatically reduced capacity, perhaps leaving a few stocking stuffers above the mantle and moving on.

As it was in Catholic homes throughout Christendom, Christmas must become all about the Christ Child once again. And a truly merry Christmas remains forever predicated on careful observance of Advent. No Christmas trees, no lights, no good things to eat until December 25, when the time of waiting comes to an end and all of Christendom rejoices at an event so magnificent even a two-year-old gets it. Christ is to be born—and the world, the flesh and the Devil will never change that reality, no matter how hard they try.

Happy Holidays? Yeah, right! It's time to take Christmas back, and here's one suggestion for how to do it, based on traditions as old as Christendom itself. MJM

This will be the tenth Christmas since my father passed away. I suppose everyone misses deceased family members most this time of year; I know I do. My father loved Christmas! I sometimes wonder, in fact, what impact his larger-than-life celebrations of the birth of Christ had on the faith of his nine children, each of whom continues to practice the old Faith to this day. He believed that, just as Advent—the “mini-Lent”—was to be kept well, with plenty of spiritual and corporal works of mercy, so too should Christmas be fêted with all the merrymaking and gusto a Catholic family can muster

He knew that children are not born theologians who can grasp the intricacies of the great mysteries of Faith at an early age. The Faith needed to be lovingly spoon-fed to them, and so the childlike customs of Christmas were for him tailor-made to instill love for the Faith before children were old enough to begin to understand it.

What a shame it is, then, to see well-meaning traditional Catholic parents discarding those customs altogether in a misguided effort to counter the commercialization of Christmas. No gift giving, no merry making, no feasting on Christmas. Alas, the baby is being thrown out with the bathwater.

In a dreary world where pessimism and cynicism—rather than righteousness and peace—have kissed each other, we must guard against robbing our children of the wonder and joy of Christmas— the seedbed for a child’s Faith.

Our poor children may live long enough to see Christmas outlawed altogether in our brave new world, even as it was once before by the Pilgrims whose Thanksgiving trumped the “popish” feast of Christmas. Anti-Catholics have long sought to destroy our great Feasts, which is why Easter Bunnies dominate Easter, Santa Claus pushed Christ out of Christmas, chocolate and romance bounced St. Valentine from February 14th, and everyone gets trashed on green beer on St. Patrick’s Day—plastic hats on drunks having evidently eclipsed the memory of the mitered saint who drove the snakes out of Ireland.

Still, we must be certain that in our eagerness to oppose the commercialization of our feasts we don’t become Puritanical agents working towards the same diabolical end. What we must do is simply reclaim what is ours by re-catholicizing our own feasts.

So, many Catholics oppose the custom of Santa Claus, for example—that somewhat off-putting caricature of the great St. Nicholas. Admittedly, the red suit and the stocking cap do bare strikingly slim resemblance to the 4th century bishop of Myra; and the flying sleigh and reindeer are more reminiscent of pagan myth than Christian Truth. But, still, few have sought to provide a good alternative to the Jolly Old Elf or to find a way of bringing St. Nicholas back to his place of honor.

So I’d like to offer one now by reintroducing readers to one of the old Catholic Christmas customs that the Germans called Christkind, or Christ Child, and that American children of European immigrants would call, simply, the Baby Jesus. My father handed this custom down to his children, after having received it from his father-- an immigrant from the old country. And I am now handing it down to my children.

My effort to convey to you how it all works will take the form of a simple reminiscence.

Looking Back

It all began in Advent, when my seven sisters and brother were expected to prepare for the coming of Christkind (pronounced Kris-Kint). Under Mother’s watchful eye, we’d fashion a small, makeshift manger that would remain unoccupied until Christmas Day. As Advent progressed, good deeds were encouraged on a daily basis; and each time it was determined that a good deed had been done, one piece of straw was placed in the empty manger—the idea being that Advent was a time to prepare a bed on which the Baby Jesus could sleep when He arrived. Under the rules of the old custom, the practice of virtue was an essential part of a child’s preparation for Christmas.

Each night after supper, the lights would be turned down while Advent Wreath candles were lit. The haunting strains of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel would be lifted (somewhat awkwardly, I suppose) on the voices of children. Shadows and flickering flames played on faces across the dining room table, making it easy for a child to imagine that he sat with the Israelites of old waiting for the Messiah to come.

As the four weeks passed seemingly as slowly as those four thousand years, one question became constant: “Have my sacrifices been enough to please Christkind?” And thus the weeks of Advent were spent in preparation and waiting...as they should be.

Gradually, the empty manger would fill with straw as the stage was set for a celestial Visitor.

On the evening of December 23rd, my father would hang a curtain over the doorway of our living room, which, if that straw was piled high enough, was to be transformed into the “Christmas room” by the Baby Jesus Himself in the middle of the night.

Then, it was off to sleep.

The Christmas Eve mornings I remember so well are marked by a combination of joy and wonder. Children still in their “jammies” could scarcely whisper the words to a curiously exhausted mother: “Did He come?”

All day long, we weren’t allowed to go near the curtain, lest one of us should succumb to the temptation to “peek”, which would be to risk the instant disappearance of whatever Christkind may have brought. A lifetime of self-discipline was taught between dawn and dusk on Christmas Eve—the very last day of waiting.

After a day of chores, naps, and helping with the house cleaning, the anticipated hour of 7 o’clock would finally arrive.

The children would gather in the back room and sing Christmas carols in candlelight as our mother would read aloud the story that always began the same way: “And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus…” We listened as Father disappeared into the “Christmas room” to take down the curtain and see to the final arrangements for the holy ritual. Only he was worthy to “take over” for Christkind.

The wait seemed interminable. Then, all at once, his voice would call out from the darkness: “Come children, Christkind has come.”

Breathlessly, we’d make our candle-lit procession from the back room to the living room, singing the words of the old German carol as we went: Ihr Kinderlein, kommet, O kommet doch all! Zur Krippe her kommet in Bethlehems Stall.

We’d gather around my father, who now was kneeling in front of the nativity scene. We’d do our best not to crane our necks and look at the darkened Christmas tree or whatever might be lying beneath it. Each child placed a crib figure into the crèche, and the youngest put the Baby in His manger.

Then, prayers were said, Christmas carols were quietly sung, deceased family were remembered, and Father spoke of the marvelous thing that had happened long ago “at midnight in Bethlehem in piercing cold.”

I can still see the cast of Bethlehem bathed in a warm, peaceful glow, seeming as real to me as if I were a shepherd boy looking down from that hillside over Bethlehem. I can hear my father and mother’s hushed voices as they prayed and sang to the same royal Baby that shepherds and angels had adored centuries ago. That sacred moment was like a porthole in time, where traveling back to the city of David just then seemed not only possible to a child, but imminent.

Those long ago Christmas Eves remain vivid in my memory, some thirty-five years later. And the gifts under the tree? I don’t remember many of them. There was no question what Christmas was about—we could feel it in the depths of our souls; we could see it in the tears that formed in our father’s eyes as he prayed aloud; we could hear it in our mother’s voice as she sang softly—silent night, holy night, all is calm.

Christmas was about the Baby, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels and Bethlehem. It was something so powerful that it could even cause our father’s voice to tremor in the darkness as he explained Who the Baby is and what He expects of us.

We knew that Christkind was real because our father and mother were kneeling on the floor before the manger… praying to Him.

Moments later, the magic of Christmas—the feast, the Catholic family celebration—burst into the quiet reality of the manger. The majestic tree was lit; there was singing and dancing; bowls of nuts and candies, specially delivered by the Baby Jesus Himself, seemed to appear out of nowhere. And there, under the tree were the gifts, the second-to-last phase of the ritual. He’d come. He’d brought little rewards for Advent efforts. The family was together, united in love for each other and a Child King we cherished with all our hearts.

You must understand, my parents had no money. And yet, somehow, Christmas came, year after year, and it was fit for a King! That was part of the miracle.

But this was just the beginning. The toys and good things to eat were set aside to be enjoyed on each and every one of the twelve days of Christmas. Now, the soul of Christmas Eve was about to be celebrated.

Coats and hats, mittens and scarves were the next order of business. The old station wagon groaned in the frosty night air as Father turned the key in the ignition. Nine children were loaded up, and, moments later, the little ones peered through frosted glass in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Bethlehem’s star on the way to Midnight Mass.

It would be Christmas Day before this night would draw to a peaceful close in a dimly-lit church filled with the scent of pine needles and candle wax and incense. Not long before the first light of Christmas Day glowed in the East, sleepy children would crawl into chilly beds as content as a child can be this side of Heaven’s gate. And, why not! Christ is born!

And So It Continues…

The years have passed by so quickly since those childhood days that I can scarcely believe that the seven little ones who process into my living room each Christmas Eve are my own, that my beloved father is no longer with us, and that the rest of us have aged more than we care to admit. But, strangely enough, the Baby Jesus remains unchanged and unchanging. Ever young, ever new, He’s the same now as He was then. My children’s imaginations are as captivated by Him now as mine then. Life is moving on, but somehow Christmas is the one thing that stays the same.

Needless to say, His midnight visit on Christmas Eve is the highpoint of the year for my children. Why? Because, as I see it, this old European Christmas custom is profoundly Catholic. There is nothing plastic-banana or phony-baloney about it! Children are neither taught to equate Christmas with wicked consumerism or Godless Puritanism. They are taught the mystery of the birth of Christ and the importance of celebrating the Feast.

Advent is a most essential part of the process, even as Midnight Mass is its climax.

Even now, my own children—walking in the footsteps of their little Catholic counterparts from the old world—are trading daily acts of kindness and virtue for little pieces of straw that are lovingly tucked away into an empty manger. For one night soon the Child of Bethlehem will transform their home and their souls into a place fit for a King. For a few miraculous moments, life will stand perfectly still and the line between the physical world and the spiritual one will become mercifully obscured.

Christkind creates in children an indissoluble bond between the joy of Christmas—which celebrates His birth—and the Catholic Faith itself which is His greatest gift. In real Christmas magic the two become one, and the proper celebration of the Holy Day plants seeds of Faith in the little garden of children’s souls even as they shout for joy.

As they grow older, their faith in Christkind transforms itself naturally into belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament—the true meaning of Christmas.

There is no deceit in the Christkind custom, for, indeed, there is no deceit in the Christkind. He does come down to earth on Christmas Eve; His providence provides everything we need in this life; and He exists just as surely as we do. He was born, He has a mother whom we all know and love, and He comes to us often at Mass—Christ’s Mass. He comes to us at Christmas.

Has fallen man ever had more reason for Feast or feasting than this? Advent is here already. Christ is coming soon.