You were the genius blessed by God
Who spoke of the holy marriage of
Faith and reason, and, indeed,
What a fruitful couple they make.
You were the teacher blessed by God
Who showed that everything we do,
No matter how great or how small,
Should point us towards Heaven.
You were the diplomat blessed by God
Who brought Light to the Franciscan order,
And as the sagacious Seraphic Doctor,
You were an instrument of God’s peace.
You were a son of Zebedee and Salome,
And brother of John the Apostle,
Though your fishing boat was very reliable,
It was definitely nothing colossal;
Were you a fiery fisherman from Galilee?
For Jesus called you a son of thunder,
If so, then did your anger flare in the boat
When your brother committed a blunder?
You saw Jesus rise at the Ascension,
And it stirred in you a most pious desire,
Then within your breast burned a glorious zeal
Which brightly glowed like a holy fire;
But King Herod Agrippa persecuted Christians,
And he just wanted them to go away,
He thought that killing a respected apostle
Would make them cease to pray.
It’s very true that King Herod seemed
Like the most vile and pernicious slug,
He was very much like his grandpa,
Who killed the holy innocents like a thug;
His wretched grandfather was selfish,
The very violent Herod the Great,
Who savagely slaughtered the babes of
Bethlehem in his beastly ire and hate.
Being a member of Jesus’ inner circle,
You had a target on your back,
The giant executioner grunted, as he
Chopped off your head with a whack;
You became the first apostolic martyr,
Way back in the year A.D. forty-four,
But Jesus waited with a beaming smile,
As He opened that Heavenly door.
Son of Thunder, you requested that Jesus
Revengefully rain down ferocious flames,
You wanted to get back at those fools from
Samaria who wouldn’t welcome Him;
But your fisherman’s soul was softened
By the Savior, as Love taught you to love,
You were transformed by the Transfiguration,
And you soon became the Apostle of Light.
During the Last Supper, you leaned on Love,
And, alarmed, asked Him about the traitor,
Then, later, you saw the wondrous wounds
Of Love wash away the world’s guilt;
He gave you His Most Blessed Mother,
And you cared for her with holy compassion,
You, the Beloved Disciple, bravely and
Courageously taught us obedience.
You were the miraculous martyr who
Survived a bubbling, boiling cauldron of oil,
Then the Roman Emperor Domitian
Egregiously exiled you to the isle of Patmos;
Hideous heresies denied Christ’s divinity,
So you wrote a glorious gospel to refute them,
You were the mild mystic, the peaceful preacher,
And the unforgettable Apostle of Love.
Your mariner’s heart hungers to know the truth,
And your saltwater soul is satisfied with John’s words;
But the brave Baptist has spoken of a greater one,
And you are thinking about what he will be like;
You hope that he will be the promised messiah,
Who will handily harpoon and sink the Romans;
And you hope he will be the holy and majestic king,
Who will restore peace and prosperity to his people.
One morning the Baptist paternally points towards the
Shore of the Jordan, at the fearless Fisher of Men;
Your eager eyes are alert as you race after Jesus,
With sweat dripping from your shaggy beard;
As you reach him, he turns and smiles at you with warm,
Welcoming eyes, and your heart is mystically awakened;
It feels like a beautiful balmy breeze is sweetly caressing
The sails of your fisherman’s soul.
You watch with piercing pistol eyes as
Stephen is brought before the Sanhedrin,
The leaders flog him with false witness,
And revengefully rush right at him;
They drag him outside the city,
And lay their cloaks at your Pharisaical feet,
Then, with hellish hate, they hurl
Spear-like stones that crush his body;
Horribly hideous thoughts float through
The black ocean of your mind,
And you are obdurately obsessed with
Driving Christianity into total oblivion;
You track and hunt down the Christians
With the most dreadful determination,
You aggressively throw them into prison,
Seeking to snuff out the sparks of the New Way.
On the dusty road to Damascus,
You relish your recent conquest over the Christians,
You are smugly satisfied with your success
Against those foolish religious rebels;
But then there is a blinding flash,
Infinitely brighter than a bolt of lightning,
Catapulted from your frightened horse,
You clumsily crash to the ground and collapse;
Then you unmistakably hear that familiar
Gentle voice of Christ the Courageous,
He tenderly and mercifully asks,
“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”
Suddenly you are struck blind,
And you are entirely enveloped in darkness,
It appears as if God has blown out the sun,
As if it were a giant candle in the sky.
Pondering and perturbed, you are praying quietly,
In a modest home on Straight Street,
Lost in your thoughts, you rhythmically
Stroke your black mustache and beard;
Your heavy heart weeps in dismay,
As your brashness has led to your bitter blindness,
Now the hero who was persecuting the rebels
Is himself converting into a rebel;
Scattered at your feet are the shattered
Pieces of your old way of life,
A day ago those puzzle pieces all fit together,
Like the pillars in Solomon’s Portico;
But now a key piece of the puzzle is missing:
The messianic centerpiece,
With tears, you repentantly fast and pray,
As Ananias approaches with the missing piece.
Gazing at the Circus Maximus, you know
That your time in this world is very short,
As you reflect back upon your life,
You realize how much you’ve changed;
Through the limitless love of the Lord,
You have become a very humble man,
And through the Prince of Peace,
You are filled with the fruit of the Spirit;
After so many years, you long to
Give the kiss of peace to the saintly Stephen,
You hunger and thirst to embrace your
Magnificent Messiah, Jesus the Just;
The sun sets in Rome’s crimson sky,
Surrounded by clusters of woolly clouds,
This flock of lambs is ready to follow
The shepherd-sun down into Vatican Hill.
The Black Dragon uncoils his
Hideous serpentine body,
Threateningly spreading out
His wicked bat-like wings,
Then he rushes downward,
Burning through the dark clouds,
Looking for someone to devour;
But the White Dove of Light
Peacefully and silently uncloaks,
With the Lord of Divine Mercy
Riding valiantly on His back,
And so, they reveal Themselves to
The Enemy, who belches forth
Blasphemous flames, utterly terrified;
Then, as the good and Mighty Lord blows
The great Trumpet of Trust,
The Black Dragon,
Wailing in great pain,
Writhes convulsively,
And falls, down, down, down,
Into the murky and malicious
Dungeon of Death.
Your fishing boat bobs up
and down in uncertainty,
As you reflect upon the
meaning of your life;
With a sterile stare you
gaze at the wobbly waves,
While the wonderful wind of
the Spirit is silently approaching;
A merciful Son of Man is
standing on the sandy seashore,
He is looking for his Rock,
to make him a fisher of men;
The breeze blows through
your stubborn dark hair,
As the Son of Man asks if He
can come aboard your boat.
As Jesus ascends, He disappears
into nebulous misty clouds,
You feel like a floundering
fisherman without his nets;
Without the Good Shepherd,
your heart seems hollow,
You now appear more like
a pebble than a rock;
But later, a deafening wind
whirls through the room,
And fantastical flaming
fireballs crown all present;
In divers tongues, all mystically
praise the good God,
And you proclaim the Word
with holy courage.
As you are cruelly crucified
upside-down on Vatican Hill,
Your life is brimming with
meaning and significance;
Your blood falls to the earth
like a myriad of mustard seeds,
Where the Church will
take root and grow strong;
You are the first link in
the precious papal chain,
An unbreakable chain dripping
with martyrs’ blood;
This chain will withstand
the hammering of heretics,
It will be like a fruitful vine
bringing Love to the world.
Good St. Joseph, you were sent
To be my wise knightly master,
So that through your assistance
I could reach Heaven faster.
Sweet and holy Queen, you are
So kindly patient and so humble,
The dark one terribly hates you,
For you make him trip and stumble.
Babe of the Incarnation, above you
Swirls the immaculate white Dove,
For now God enters His creation
To show the true depth of His Love.
O St. Joseph,
The humble one,
Unite your prayers
To Our Lord Jesus
With those of
The Holy Virgin,
And implore Him
To give each of us
What you gave to
Your Holy Family:
Strength to lead,
Love to inspire,
Wisdom to guide.
Amen.
St. Joseph the Silent Knight,
Holy man of common sense,
You preached the gospel,
Though often without words,
If you had the knowledge,
You answered your neighbor,
If not, then through divine wisdom
You put your hand over your mouth;
Teach me how to hold my tongue,
To follow the Spirit’s lead,
Instead of getting in trouble
By rashly running ahead of Him;
It’s pleasant to converse,
But it’s far better to be prudent.
Christmas,
The night of Christ,
The breathtaking eve when the
Babe of the Incarnation
Heroically came to save us.
St. Joseph,
The Knight of Christ,
The brave, holy man that the
Babe of the Incarnation
Trusted wholeheartedly.
A HOUSE BUILT ON ROCK
A humble home was built
On a foundation of faith,
In the Town of Trust,
In the Province of Prudence,
On the rugged rock of
Divine Mercy:
The wild waves awoke
Like ferocious beasts
And beat against the
Formidable fortress,
Banging with watery fists,
But all to no avail --
Nothing could harm
This holy house of Love.
A HOUSE BUILT ON SAND
A castle of carousing was built
On a lazy beach in
The City of Cool,
In the Province of Popular,
On the slippery sand of
Fragile fear:
Then, a voracious
Tidal wave of temptation
Hungrily devoured the castle,
And a furious flood
Of thick red blood
Poured out in torrents,
Turning the green one red.
You protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
The magi in their wise hands hold
Both sweet frankincense and gold,
But your strong courageous arms
Save Baby Jesus from all harms.
You are the knight of the Dove,
And on that Holy Night met Love.
Hellishly bloody Herod the Hater
Fears that he’s not the greater,
But you, oh most humble father,
With vainglory don’t even bother.
You protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
Your thick, wavy brown hair happily
Blows in the breeze of God’s will;
Your warm brown eyes twinkle with
Contentment, crinkling as you smile.
You protect the holy Babe from Herod’s
Hellish hands, which are dripping with blood;
In obedience, you help the Holy Family
Evade him and elusively escape to Egypt.
As a worker, you handle the wood of
God’s creation with gentle strength;
With industrious ingenuity, you use
God’s good gifts to serve others.
You shatter lustful temptation with your
Carpenter’s mallet of holy purity;
Then, as God’s valiant soldier, you slay
Selfishness with the sword of surrender.
In your loving example, you show little Jesus
how to be a good son to His mother;
With your humble heart, you teach Love
How to love, and the angels are amazed.
As she serenely stepped out of the upper
room, she rejoiced in a fresh new day,
She looked about her peaceful surroundings,
drinking in the delicious goodness of God;
Clusters of clouds casually wafted by, so low
that they brushed the pinnacle of the temple,
They passed by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic
white against the bright blue morning sky;
Later that morning, she and the Apostles were
deeply immersed in prayer when, suddenly,
She inhaled the sweet scent of God’s presence,
and joyfully breathed in the Lord’s love;
The balmy breeze of grace swirled around her
and compassionately caressed her,
She reflected on God’s glorious grandeur,
and His magnificence soaked into her soul;
Then, the Word rushed through them all,
as the Holy Spirit swiftly swooped down,
The bold beautiful breeze of heavenly hope
placidly filled the sails of their souls;
The Paraclete, like a powerful, whirling wind,
spectacularly sparked the wicks of their
Souls, and ignited the fire of love, which
rippled through and rhymed in their hearts;
Then, Our Lady’s heart was passionately,
preciously pierced by the sweet sword
Of the Spirit; her soul, suddenly
brimming with God’s majestic mercy,
Soared in a spiraling celestial
crescendo of God’s love for her;
With peaceful confidence, her heart,
like a fiery supernova, exploded with
Feelings of love, joy, and peace,
of patience, kindness, and generosity;
Her smiling eyes then beheld the
flaming fire of Love resting on all, and as
She serenely surrendered all to the Spirit,
like a giddy geyser she gushed
Torrents of light-hearted laughter
and happy, heavenly tears; this golden
Cascade of pure love poured over
her soul like a warm, wonderful
Waterfall of holy honey; deep down
inside, the Spirit was strumming on
The harmonic harp of her heart, and
she was deliciously, delightfully deluged
By this overwhelming ocean of her
Jesus’ magnificent mercy and love;
The Light of the World had scattered
and defeated the dreary dark night.
Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected
From the dark night of unknowing;
You guided me up the steep, perilous path,
Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.
The demonic winds gusted, and with
Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;
Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and
Lava streams slithered down the slopes.
But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,
And He put an end to the dark night;
Beams of bright light, both red and white,
Streamed soothingly into my soul.
Atop the summit, you took my hand,
And together we flew into the Light;
We laughed like merry little children,
Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.
The dastardly devil is like
An enemy submarine,
He cruises the surface of
The lukewarm sea, in the
Dark Night of Unknowing,
He doesn’t even try to hide,
Because most people
Don’t even bother to look for him,
Busied as they are with
Wasteful wars of words,
But when he sees that
Someone does recognize him,
He submerges into the
Darkest depths, and he
Wages war, but secretly,
Then he returns once again,
Peering through his periscope,
Looking for someone to devour
With the torpedoes of temptation.
Our heads hung low,
Saddened and perplexed
By the troubling events just
Three days prior in Jerusalem;
My companion and I were
Searching for the missing piece
Of the Messianic puzzle,
Not realizing that it was less
Than a stone’s throw away;
Then, when we turned around,
We found a man who was both
Wise and friendly, and He too
Was on the road to Emmaus;
As He spoke to us over the
Next several miles, the fire of
Heavenly hope began to rekindle
Within our souls once again,
So we invited Him to sup with us
When we arrived in Emmaus;
After the sun set over the hills,
The stars twinkled with delight as
The Son suddenly rose in our hearts,
For when He broke the bread,
He smiled His very gentle smile,
And we felt as if we had been
Born again.
I turn around and before me you stand,
one whose robe is dazzlingly white,
As you speak my name and say “Mary,”
you forever shatter my deep dark night;
With great love, you bestow your peace upon me,
through your wonderfully warm brown eyes,
Your merciful smile cheers my heart,
so that my soul can most sweetly arise;
In the joyful breeze of the Holy Spirit,
your flowing hair very gently swirls,
In my heart I totally surrender to you,
and for you this is a treasure of pearls.
In a shadow of deep darkness, the Light
of the world hangs crooked on the cross,
A jagged crown of razor-thin thorns is
thrust maliciously into His throbbing head;
Bright-red blood and the fickle crowd’s
sour spittle trickle into His stinging eyes,
He licks His cracked lips, and He tastes
the bold bitter flavor of blood.
The Roman soldiers’ wild whips tore
and radically ripped Jesus’ holy flesh,
And now the sticky crusted wounds cling
to the weatherbeaten wood and ooze;
Knife-like nails puncture His hands and feet,
and make them look like cored apples,
His shoulders slump down, crushed under
the weight of every sin in human history.
The soldiers hellishly hammered the nails
into Jesus’ flesh, as if He were an animal,
Indescribable pain blasted through the
bones of His body like dynamite;
He now surrenders His body, mind, soul,
and spirit to the will of His Father,
He lovingly practices what He preached,
and He prays for His persecutors.
Jesus is high up, as if atop an isolated
island, surrounded by a sea of hate,
A cacophonous chorus of insults assails
His ears, and the smell of sin is in the air;
His mother, living in the dark night of
unknowing, silently waits and watches,
She kneels in total surrender, while a
sword of sorrow slashes her heavy heart.
In the afternoon, Golgotha is enveloped
in a mysterious murky darkness,
Then, when Jesus dies, the earth quakes
in violent anger at the murder of its Creator;
Rumbling and roaring, buildings catastrophically
crash and crumble to the ground,
The terrifying temblor forces the sanctuary’s
curtain to explosively burst apart.
That mysterious murky darkness remains
in the hearts of Jesus’ faithful followers,
Their entire worlds are seriously shaken,
and they are stunned and stupefied;
But on the third day, the nebulous fog
of uncertainty will finally dissolve,
On the third day, a heavenly ray of Light
will come, far brighter than the sun.