Tag: Mary

Prayer to Mary

In the beginning, God did shape
the sun, the moon, the stars,
and in the end he'll recreate
this weary world of ours,
but now the one who made all things
stares wide-eyed as he he hears you sing.

O Mary, here you hold the word
that makes creation new,
and holding him you hold the world—
Let us draw near to you
to shelter with him in your cloak,
for he is all our life and hope.

The son of heaven has come down
to bear with us the hurt:
The one who sleeps in your arms now
has joined us in the dirt,
then in the strength of your embrace
enfold us, too, into his grace.

And here beneath the stars he made,
teach us the song you sing
that waits for his eternal day
and trusts him in all things.
And pray for us, that we might be
his own in bright eternity.

Mary nursing the Infant Jesus. Early image from the Catacomb of Priscilla, Rome, c. 2nd century By Unknown author – adapted from the quoted page., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=507221

The Song of Elizabeth

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the infant leaped in her womb, 
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, 
cried out in a loud voice and said, 
“Blessed are you among women, 
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me, 
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, 
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
–-Luke 1:39-45

Behold, my love comes o'er the hills
as softly as the deer steps forth,
as sweetly as the trickling rills
come bless the winter-laden earth.

As yet he hides behind the wall,
but love is coming to the door
to bring me to his banquet hall—
So comes the mother of my Lord.

And now I hear the true dove's voice
that says the winter days are past,
and this within me leaps for joy 
to recognize its spring at last.

Who am I, that this love should come
when God has done such things for me?
And she who said,“Let it be done,”
oh, blest is she who has believed!

And now he grows within her womb.
The barren fig tree puts forth buds;
the desert wakes and greens and blooms
when he tells me, “Arise, my love!”

These leaves survive from what must have been an extraordinarily rich book of hours. Stylistically, the illuminations relate to the workshop of Henri d’Orquevaulx, a documented Metz manuscript painter. Little is known about d’Orquevaulx’s life or career. Compositionally, structurally, and stylistically, the miniatures suggest strong links to Netherlandish illumination. By Henri d’Orquevaulx – https://clevelandart.org/art/2003.172, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77719154

If You Meet the Virgin

Based on a snippet I found in a book of prayers and poems about Mary, this one by St. John of the Cross, translated by Kathleen Jones:

If you meet the Virgin
Coming down the road,
Ask her into your house:
She bears the Word of God.

If, by chance, you meet the Virgin,
heavy-footed on her journey,
take her in beneath your roof.
Let her rest, and give her shelter
though your home's a helter-skelter—
See, her time is almost due.

She will come when nothing's ready.
Let her get out of the weather—
She'll make do with what you've got,
lives askew and human frailty,
dust on every inch of realty—
This shall be the home of God.

Others, then, will come behind her—
king and shepherd come to find her—
Better leave the porch light on,
for it is a light they're seeking,
they who've heard the night sky speaking
of a new and radiant dawn.

Even now the shepherds wander
far from where the burning stars were,
far from hillsides shining strange.
They have come down through the valleys,
searching avenues and alleys
for a king in manger laid.

Open doors and bow before him—
shepherds, kings, and you adore him
as on Mary's breast he sleeps.
Where you are, he makes his stable.
Where he is, he makes his table:
Welcome, welcome to the feast.


More details

Cornelis Massijs – Arrival of the Holy Family in Bethlehem – WGA14256 – Web Gallery of Art:   Image  Info about artwork, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15497722

Mantle

To those who stand on corners
or walk the highways out,
to those who sleep in doorways,
reach out your mantle now
and drape it as a shelter
across the unkind earth,
a tent of finest velvet
for those who sleep on dirt.

Reach out to them, O Mary
apparelled in the sun,
the hounded and the harried,
and hide them from the guns.
See those in need of rescue
and spread for them your cloak
to be a sky-blue refuge
that screens them from the foe.

O Mother, now behold them,
the weary and the poor,
and in your arms enfold them 
where once you held the Lord,
to shield them from the Herods—
O, bear them safe away
beyond the reach of terror
to live another day.

The Ravensburger Schutzmantelmadonna, c. 1480, attributed to Michel Erhart, painted limewood, Bode Museum, Berlin. Attributed to Michel Erhart – Self-photographed, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2293730

Magnificat

For the Feast of the Assumption:

Let all that hides within my heart,
that dwells within my soul,
show forth the burning light of God
and magnify the Lord.

For he was not too great to look
upon my littleness,
but from it his own smallness took—
and all will call me blessed.

My God did not refuse to see,
so I am not ashamed.
No, he has done great things for me
and holy is his name.

His mercy flows from age to age
as mountain streams pour down.
The poor he shelters in his strength
and scatters all the proud.

The mighty fall beneath his gaze;
the low are lifted up;
and see! he send the rich away
and fills the beggar's cup!

For he has not forgotten us
through all our wand'ring days,
but shapes his mercy from our dust.
Oh, let my soul sing praise!

Drawing; Drawings By Pierre-Paul Prud’hon – This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. See the Image and Data Resources Open Access Policy, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=60840413

Visitation

The fountain where salvation springs
that death could not destroy:
From you, the flood shall topple kings
and mighty ones despoil.
The poor shall taste the feast he brings:
the grain, the wine, the oil,
but in your heart yet keep these things
and pour them out in joy.

Because of you, then, blest are we
on whom those waters spilled:
Christ Jesus shall the hungry feed
and empty he shall fill.
Now blest are those who have not seen
but who believe him still,
and blest are you who have believed
the Word would be fulfilled.

For now the desert runs with streams
transforming us within,
and we can rest in Christ our peace,
his pastures cool and dim.
So pray for us, that we might see
God-with-us, bone and skin,
and pray, O Mother—let it be!—
that we shall be like him!

Manuscript Illumination with the Visitation in an Initial D, from a Choir Book. Art forgery attributed to “the Spanish Forger” – https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/467415, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=59007587

The 4th Station: Jesus Meets His Mother

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you,
because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

By the road her station keeping,
grasping at the chance of meeting,
Mary waits as Christ draws near.
What the heartbreak at her seeing,
what the words of hope or keening
does she whisper in his ear?

Shout, O Crowd: Let no one hear it,
none but they be forced to bear it,
what must pass between them now.
Mary, how long had you feared it,
with a heart that must be piercèd
by the swords that bring him down?

No more fear, no future worry:
All the prophet's words of warning
break upon you like the wave.
Jesus, whom you held and nurtured,
takes the steps that bear him forward,
closer, closer to the grave.

But a moment face to face here,
worlds of sorrow in their gazes:
Christ and Mary, one in grief.
Then once more the cross he raises,
turns away from her embraces,
turns once more to Calvary.

Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One,
have mercy on us.

Chapel in 4th Station in Via Dolorosa, Jerusalem Photo By Anton 17 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=28490897

Mary, Mother of God

Includes a detail from Nicholas Love’s Mirror of the Blessed Life of Jesus Christ (as recounted in Grace Hamman’s Jesus Through Medieval Eyes): that Mary took off her kerchief and used it to swaddle the infant Christ.

You took your veil to swaddle him—

no shame before your God

but, Eden-like in Bethlehem,

held him against your heart.



So we, against the winter wind

prideless, defenseless stand.

Oh, wrap us up as you did him

who rested in your hands.



The night is long and bitter cold;

we wait to see his face,

Mary, who did the savior hold,

teach us to feel his grace.



In any warmth that wraps us 'round,

in any comfort's touch,

we hope his mercy may abound

who needed you so much.



And if we cannot feel his love,

then pray we can feel yours,

that earthly love maybe enough

to show us heaven's doors.



Mary, we are your children now,

as helpless as was Christ.

Come swaddle us as in that hour

you cradled paradise.

Madonna Advocata (Hagiosoritissa) aus dem 7. Jahrhundert By Asia – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61627017

Needy

Man’s maker was made man, that He, Ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother’s breast; that the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey; that the Truth might be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded; that Life might die.

St. Augustine of Hippo
God's only Son begotten,

through whom all things were made,

the light that shines in darkness,

is blind by lantern-flame.



The Word in the beginning,

on Mary's breast he lies,

knows only warmth and milk now,

and wordlessly he cries.



Then come you now to Bethl'em;

make firm your feeble steps:

The love of God unending

is drawing his first breaths.



Come running with the shepherds,

as swift as angel hosts,

for heaven's throne stands empty:

A manger overflows.



And he who fills us hungers;

the living water thirsts.

God's Providence among us

is needy at his birth.



And she who bore him whispers—

the Word hangs on her voice.

This midnight, God is with us.

Come to him and rejoice!

“The Manger”, photograph by Gertrude Käsebier – Camera Notes, Vol 4 No 1, July 1900, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5151764

May It Be Done To Me

Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.”
Then the angel departed from her.

Luke 1:26-38
May it be done to me

according to your word,

that what begins in me shall be

the mercy of the Lord.



For I know God has seen,

though high he sits above,

all that I am or I have been,

yet looks on me with love.



In love he lifts me up

and fills my hungry soul

'til I become the flowing cup:

Through me his rivers roll.



These waters still run on

to break through dams and walls

and cast the mighty towers down

and lift the weak and small.



This flood he turns to wine

himself becomes the feast,

shaped from the little that is mine,

to fill our every need.



I am, and still shall be,

the handmaid of my Lord.

I say, may it be done to me

according to your word.

The angel Gabriel’s message to Mary. Altar screen from Fet stave church, Sogn. By Unknown author – Kulturhistoriskt lexikon för nordisk medeltid. Helsingfors 1956, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=57525940