FRAGRANCE JAR OF DEVOTION

Mary anointed the Feet of Jesus with precious spikenard. She had purchased the costly jar of perfumed ointment. Years of saving, making items and selling them for small coins at market, the saving of a price of loaf and fasting in its stead. All these things Mary possibly did, and saved for a rainy day. Then, in one magnificent gesture, Mary purchased the jar of spikenard.

Mary gave witness that Jesus Christ is Messiah. She anointed the Feet of Christ with spikenard. Mary wept with repentance and gratitude at forgiveness of her sins. She showed her love for Jesus by washing His Feet with her tears, drying them with her hair. Though Mary caused scandal amongst those around, and Judas was concerned at possible waste, Jesus commended her. Christ said that Mary had anointed Him ahead of time, for burial.

Such deeds of love are never a waste. Rather, they are spending our best and all we have on Jesus Christ, the Son of God. 

Fragrance jar of devotion

In quiet streets where merchants cried,
Where coins were earned with humble pride;
A woman laboured, day by day,
And slowly stored her gains away.

A loaf forgone, a hunger borne,
One simple dress, now patched and worn;
Small coins she saved from all she made,
Through heat of sun and market trade.

Through years of want, through nights of prayer,
She kept a treasure hidden there -
Not gold for ease, nor wealth for show,
But love that only Christ would know.

At last she found that costly grace,
Pure spikenard sealed in fragile vase;
A fragrance rare, a treasure bright,
The sum of years brought into light.

Then came the hour, the sacred place,
She stood before her Saviour’s Face;
And knowing Him, her heart laid bare,
She wept in love beyond compare.

Her tears fell soft upon His Feet,
Sorrow before Mercy complete;
For He had seen her hidden pain,
And washed her soul from every stain.

She broke the jar - no thought of cost,
No counting what the world called lost;
The fragrance poured, so rich, so free,
Her treasured act of dignity.

With loosened hair, she gently dried,
The Feet of Him soon crucified;
Her love proclaimed in silent art,
Outpouring of her grateful heart.

The room was stirred with whispered blame,
With judging eyes and words of shame;
“Such waste,” they thought, “So strange a deed;
The poor could have claimed this costly need!”

But one among them weighed the price,
With mazed thought and guarded eyes -
Judas spoke of loss, of squandered gold,
Yet knew not love so sure and bold.

Then Christ, the Lord, with gentle Voice,
Declared her act the truest choice:
“She has anointed Me this day,
Preparing for My burial way.”

No gift of love is ever waste,
When offered pure, though sacred haste;
For what we give with all our heart,
Becomes of heaven’s realm a part.

O may we learn from Mary’s grace,
To seek our Lord, to know His Face;
To spend our best, our all, our store,
On Him whom we are longing for.

For He is Christ, the Holy One,
God’s own beloved, eternal Son -
And love like hers shall ever stand,
Remembered in His saving Hand.

With thanks to Youtube

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/rtSLBHXojqc

JESUS WEPT

 

Jesus wept at the loss of Lazarus, His dear friend. The Master also wept as He witnessed the grief of the family and friends. God had made Adam and Eve from the earth, had breathed His own Life into the clay figures. We, descendants of the first parents, are joyful to be children of God, heirs of His Breath. 

Yet, God had not experienced what His creations truly feel at sorrow of death. God sent His only Son, to experience our lives to the fullest. Thus, Jesus wept. Why, in so many traditions, do we expect men not to weep? Do we not all feel? Men as well as women, boys as well as girls? Do not unshed tears come out later in our bodies as anxiety, unresolved grief, panic attacks, post-traumatic stress syndrome, heart attacks, strokes? 

Let us feel our grief, and shed our tears. As Jesus did.

Jesus Wept

Before the stone where sorrow lay,
Where death had seemed to claim its day;
Christ stood amidst grief's great depth,
And wept before the face of death.

For Lazarus, His cherished friend,
For love that seemed to meet its end;
For sisters bowed in aching pain,
And hearts that would not heal again.

The tears He shed were not in vain,
They fell like soft, redeeming rain;
For God who formed us from the sod.
Now wept among us - man and God.

From dust He shaped both form and face,
And breathed in us His living Grace;
From Adam’s line our lives began,
The breath of God in fragile man.

Yet though He made the heart to feel,
Its wounds, its breaking, and its heal;
He had not walked our shadowed way,
Nor wept as mortals weep one day.

So Love came down, in flesh and bone,
To claim our griefs as now His own;
Born of a woman, meek and mild,
The Holy One, yet Mary’s Child.

He knew our hunger, thirst, and loss,
The weight of sorrow, and the Cross;
Christ walked the road our feet must tread,
And wept beside the silent dead.

Then why do we, in hardened guise,
Forbid the tears within our eyes?
Why teach the heart to lock its pain,
As though true strength must still remain?

Do not those tears, if held inside,
Return as storms we cannot hide -
In trembling chest, in anxious breath,
In silent wounds that echo death?

O let us learn from Christ our Lord,
Whose tears no shame nor weakness stored;
For in His weeping love was shown,
As God who made our grief His own.

So let us feel, and not deny
The tears that fall, the inward cry;
For we are His - both frail and strong;
And in our tears, we all belong.

With thanks to Youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMbE4Wf9rT4

HYMN OF THANKS FOR HEALERS

 

Let us thank God for every physician, nurse, chemist, herbalist and health professional over the ages, who have made and administered remedies for pain and restoration to health. We are blessed to have dedicated called, who have spent their lives in the pursuit of excellence in medicine, nursing, healing and medicaments.

Hymn of Thanks for Healers

O Divine Source of wisdom bright,
Who kindled minds with healing light;
We lift our hearts in grateful praise,
For healers’ works through all our days.

For every physician, wise and true,
Whose caring hands our strength renew;
For every chemist, keen of sight,
Who laboured long by day and night.

For those who searched through nature’s store,
In root and leaf, on distant shore;
Who drew from earth its hidden grace,
To soothe the pain of suffering’s face.

For nurses gentle, watchful, near,
Whose quiet presence calms our fear;
Whose tender care and patient art,
Bring balm and hope to mind and heart.

For all who answered to the call,
To serve the weak, to tend to all;
Who gave their lives in steadfast quest,
To bring to suffering relief and rest.

Bless every mind that sought to find,
Relief for body, soul, and mind;
For all whose skill, refined through years,
Has wiped away each patient’s tears.

Through trial and effort, success and gain,
They strove to lessen human pain;
With courage firm and vision clear,
They pressed on for many a year.

O Giver of each healing gift,
Our hearts in thanks to You we lift;
For through these souls Your Mercy flows,
In their work Your Goodness shows.

May all their labours, great and small,
Be crowned with blessing over all;
May all their service ever be,
Great sign of Your deep Charity.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "Galen creates healing cream"

ROSE OF EDEN RESTORED

Jesus is the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley. Almighty God sent this Rose to comfort us in our self-chosen state after the Fall, when we no longer fell under Theocracy of God. The Almighty promised us the Saviour, Who would come to save us from consequences of the Fall.

The rose flower is beauty, it is grace. Many angels and saints who come to visit us on earth, send rose scent to bring a moment of sweetness and hope. 

Let us thank God for all herbalists who heal using rose, and for rose's healing properties. Let us be thankful for the joy of this exquisite flower in our midst. 

May rose portend the heavenly kingdom, where all joy and beauty reigns. May the rose and all flowers in the heavenly garden, blush in joy to be near Christ in the kingdom.

Rose of Eden restored

O Rose of Sharon, pure and bright,
Soft blooming in eternal light;
O Lily of the Valley fair,
God’s tender Love made full known there.

When we, by choice, from grace did fall,
Then shadows dimmed creation’s call
No longer held in Theocracy’s embrace,
We wandered far from Eden’s place.

Yet God, in mercy, did not leave
Our wounded hearts alone to grieve;
He promised One, a saving Bloom,
Whose life would break the darkest gloom.

The Rose was sent in time and space,
A sign of beauty, truth, and grace;
His petals speak of heaven above,
The fragrance whispers: “God is love.”

In quiet hours, when burdens press,
When life feels but a wilderness;
A sudden sweetness fills the air -
The hint of angels lingers there.

For saints and hosts unseen draw near,
To comfort hearts weighed down by fear;
In that sweet scent, so soft, so mild,
We are consoled; God’s weary child.

Blessed be God for healing art,
For hands that soothe the aching heart;
For those who tend with gentle care,
And find His grace in roses fair.

O gift of petals, balm and sign,
Sweet testament of love Divine;
A glimpse of joy is gently shown,
Where beauty flowers before His throne.

In that Kingdom, bright above,
Where all is peace, and all is love;
I pray my garden there may be
With roses blooming endlessly -

Each blossom turning, full of grace,
With full-felt joy toward His Face;
Till all creation, bright and true,
Blushes in Christ, forever new.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "Jesus blessing the rose"

With thanks to Youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-4u1IWVU6o

VOICES OF THE ABBAS

 

Voices of the Abbas

In desert vast where silence lay,
The holy fathers knelt to pray,
With hearts attuned to heaven’s call,
They sought the Word that speaks to all.

No gold had they, no earthly claim,
Yet burned within a living flame;
A hunger deep for truth Divine,
A thirst no world could e’er define.

They waited on the sacred Word,
In stillness where God’s Voice was heard;
Through wind and sun, through night so long,
Their lives became a silent song.

In caves and sands, in lonely place,
They learned the depth of boundless grace.
Through fasting, tears, and watchful eyes,
They fixed their hope beyond the skies.

They taught that holiness is found,
Not in the noise, but sacred ground;
Within the soul that bends in prayer,
Where God is near, forever there.

O desert saints, so strong, so wise,
You turned from earth to gain the prize;
Your witness still lights up our way,
And calls our hearts to watch and pray.

If you wish to know more about the Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers, please click in the link below;

https://churchinterfaith.blogspot.com/2024/

Image courtesy of ChatGPT and CN Whittle "Teaching in desert wilderness"

HUMBLE BEARER OF HOLY SON

 

Humble bearer of Holy Son

From ages vast, before all time,
In wisdom deep, in love sublime,
God looked upon His works so dear,
Each soul, each life, both far and near.

In that gaze so vast, beguiled,
He saw a foal, both meek and mild;
A donkey small, of humble birth,
Yet marked for purpose on this earth.

God looked into those gentle eyes,
So free of pride, so free of guise,
And chose this creature, soft and grey,
To bear His Son one sacred day.

He stooped in love, as legends tell,
To mark a cross where shadows fell;
An ash-toned sign upon foal's back,
A quiet grace he did not lack.

For every life, both great and small,
Is known to God Who fashioned all,
This small foal, so often passed,
Was held in love from first to last.

Then came the day, long prophesied,
When Christ the King in peace would ride;
Through Jerusalem with palms that swayed,
Amid cloaks along the roadway laid.

No fear foal showed, no wild alarm,
He bore the Christ with steady calm;
While voices cried, “Hosanna, sing!”
As they hailed the saving King.

This was the work for which foal was born,
Not crowned with gold, nor rich robed-worn;
But raised to greatness, pure and true -
To carry Christ as foal passed through.

What is greater, tell us now,
Than to bear such weight with willing brow?
To lift the King with heart so free,
With humble, joyful dignity.

So too are we called forth to bear
The weight of love, the call to care;
To keep God's Word in all we do,
In thought, in deed, in purpose true.

Obey His law: be just and kind,
Keep truth and mercy close in mind.
Do not deceive, nor take, nor break
The bonds that love and trust must make.

Harm not a life, but guard it well,
Let peace within your spirit dwell,
“Be like to Me,” the Saviour said,
With gentle Heart and Love outspread.

Long after crosses fell and tomb was bare,
And risen light had filled both earth and air;
That little donkey passed away,
His task complete, on his final day.

Yet surely in God’s realm above,
Foal knew again that touch of love -
The King Who once, with tender hand,
Had guided him through Holy Land.

We as well are chosen still,
Not by our own, but by His will;
For God has seen through time's long haul,
Both you and I - our life's great call.

No life is cast by chance alone,
Each path to Him is surely known.
So let us answer, firm and true,
Whatever work God bids us do.

For in His sight, both great and small
Are held in love - He calls us all.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "Palm Sunday procession with celebration"

With thanks to Youtube

HIDDEN GRACE, MYSTERY DEEP

Hidden Grace, Mystery Deep

O Mother Mary, chosen one,
Who bore in womb God’s only Son,
A hidden grace, a mystery deep,
While heaven watched and earth did keep.

Gracious Queen in silence bright,
You carried Love, the world’s true Light,
Unseen the Child, yet fully known,
The Word made flesh, to us now shown.

With Saint Joseph by your side so true,
In humble home your love first grew,
A faithful heart, a family small,
Yet held within the Lord of all.

You rose in haste o’er hill and field,
To Elizabeth, who Baptist didst yield.
Your greeting filled the air with grace,
As God’s own Presence lit that place.

O Queen of refugees, we see
Your flight to Egypt urgently;
With Child and spouse through desert night,
Preserved by God’s protecting Might.

Now crowned in heaven, radiant Queen,
Above all things both heard and seen,
You shine your light on hearts below,
And guide us where God’s Mercies flow.

Keep us, dear Mother, in God’s Thrall,
With loving trust that binds us all.
Protect our souls through night and day,
And lead us on the narrow way.

O'ercome the serpent’s ancient power,
Where fear and shadow oft do tower.
Let evil flee before your grace,
And peace upon the world take place.

When life’s storm has spent its breath,
And we draw near the gate of death,
Bring us, O Queen, by gentle hand,
Safe to heaven’s harbour, fair and grand.

There crowned in light, with saints above,
You reign in everlasting love,
O Mother Mary, hear our plea - 
Lead us to Christ eternally.

 

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "Mother Mary in Heaven'