Association Of Catholic Bloggers

Just recently, I read  Ali Baba and the Forty thieves  for my children .  In this story, the wife of Ali Baba’s (unfortunate) brother and her servant girls lament and cry by his corpse, retrieved by Ali Baba from the thieves’ cave. Their lament announces to everyone the death of Ali Baba’s brother. This is just one of many examples of weeping done not only because of a spontaneous desire but with a specific and sometimes direct ritual meaning. And whenever there is a ritual, behind it lies the desire to express a deeper human reality. The ritual, the task, vocation or place, is there to encompass the entire human being when she (the soul) comes in contact with a reality beyond ordinary expression. Or in the words of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Gandalf, “not all tears are an evil…” The task of lamenting is one forgotten in the Western world, along with most meaningful rituals. .... In sharp contrast to this “liberated human” stands the Mother, weeping beneath the Cross... [Read more

The Offertory,  (Battle of Tears) Now is the time to fight.  Not with weapons or words, but with tears, the tears of a Mother pleading for her children.   Some time ago I prayed the words of Rachel during the stations, I said, "Give me children or I shall die."  I meant spiritual children that I can pray for.  God in His goodness gives me children that I cannot see or touch, that are somewhere in the world and in need of a Mother's tears for them.  At this moment in the Holy Mass He not only gives me these children but also fills my heart with love for them at the same moment.  My heart is pierced and tears flow for the children I love, although I do not know them, I love them no less.    The tears of a Mother pleading for her children before the throne of God is very powerful.  A Mother's heart willing to be pierced for her children to lead them to God can pluck those with the darkest of hearts directly from the demons grasp.  The heavens are opened and ... TO

John's Story:  I died.  I went through the darkness to the light and was before the throne of judgement.  Looking around I saw his Guardian Angel, instantly recognizing him, although this was the first time I had ever laid eyes upon him.   I turned to my left and saw a hideously deformed creature that had nothing by hate and evil in his eyes, especially directed at me.   For the first time I had breathed my last breath, I was afraid.  There was someone else there also, a woman, I didn't immediately recognize.  I knew where I was, I was at my judgement, and that scared me even worse.  I hadn't lived the best life, I wasn't really nice to people, kind of selfish really, even in my own family.  Even when I was near death I didn't want to give anything to anyone, not even very many kind words.  Being given a time to die was a great gift, because, although I wasn't a perfect saint, I did have a chance to repair some damage I had done in my family and with God,