SAINT ROSE OF LIMA - AUGUST 23

 

Saint Rose of Lima

[b. Isabel Flores de Oliva]

(1586-1617)

Patron of Latin America and the Philippines

Saint Rose of Lima is one of the saints I love and, although a few days will have passed before I have the time to finish this blog post, thereby "missing" her feast day of August 23, I am going to write about her nonetheless.

Born in Lima to a Creole mother and a Portuguese-born father of no particular distinction, a member of the cavalry of the day, Isabel Flores de Oliva developed into an intensely religious child. Even in infancy, there were remarkable signs attendant on her. A servant saw the child's face turn into a rose and told everyone of this so that it became her nickname, which she took formally when she was confirmed in The Faith.

Catherine of Sienna captured the young girl's imagination, and she tried to copy her ascetic practices, such as fasting three days a week. There were also "severe penances" practiced in secret, behind closed doors. I am not sure what those practices were and how anyone knew of them, but in any case, this is where any similarity between myself and this lovely saint quickly falls by the wayside because, aside from offering up the constant pain of my physical conditions, I have no interest in increasing my pain and discomfort. Like most human beings, I do what I can to avoid extra pains, as I feel I have quite enough coming to me already. 

In particular, the enjoyment of food is something I have never been able to curtail, which has resulted in my zaftig physique. In fact, by the time I was five, my mother was calling me "fat" and this is the way I have remained for the majority of my life (except for about 7 years when I made what seemed to me to be a HUGE effort and I was substantially thinner.) I have been told by a few doctors that the abuse I endured as a child is largely responsible for this excess adipose tissue, but there remains the conviction in my mind that if I was really religious I would be able to get a handle on this problem. However, I am not dead yet, and we shall see if I am ever able to conquer this defect and follow the examples set by many of our saints.

There are all sorts of things to make Saint Rose dear to our hearts. She rebelled against the common practice of the day and refused marriage, preferring instead to stay home and commune with the Lord, engaging in spiritual practices under the disapproving eyes of her parents who preferred to have married her off. But all she wanted was union with the Divine.

Contrary to the imaginations of some, spiritual people who reject the usual parade of husband, children and grandchildren, will typically have some work to do. They don't float around their homes, toes inches from the floorboards. Labor is a healthy aspect of life, the need for which is shared by secular folks and monastics alike. In some of the icons painted of this saint, she is sewing.

Now, sewing is one of my creative outlets, in addition to being a wonderfully FUNCTIONAL skill to have. At this moment, I have about 20 yards of linen waiting for me to unroll it, wash, cut and sew it! When I see even a very pedestrian activity like this in one of our saints, my attention grabs onto it. Anything that will help me to feel confident that I can follow the path of the mystics is important to me. Saint Rose worked at embroidery in order to help support the family, but of course it did not provide the kind of income that comes with a wealthy and/or hard working son-in-law, and I don't imagine Rose's parents were at all mollified by whatever small sums were brought into the household as a result of her work.

Any person who displays a radical disparity between the family traditions and expectations and their own is going to be the object of constant pressure and sometimes ridicule within the family structure, even a devout Catholic family. Not every family wanted their children to become nuns, priests or some other kind of monastic. I am guessing that they may have been counting on the small dowry and the relief of having one less mouth to feed when their daughter reached marriageable age and a man took her out of this household, but there is also this tendency in human beings to try to force the nonconforming child into the mold of their tribe.

Further thoughts on this saint will be added at a later date.

Silver Rose

SAINT LIMBANIA - HERMITESS - AUGUST 16

 

SAINT LIMBANIA

Virgin, Hermitess

This post is a place mark, for the insertion of text at a later date.

King Saint Stephen I of Hungary - August 16

Saint Stephan of Hungary

977-1038

Saint Stephan was the husband of my first cousin, 29 times removed - Gizela von Bayern. They were the parents of Saint Emeric. I get a kick out of the variety of people to whom I have some familial connection. We call him a "shirt tail relation" when the person is related to us by marriage.

He was raised a Christian, as the son of a Magyar Chieftain named Geza, and Stephan was estimated to be between 20 and 22 when he succeeded him and became the last Grand Prince of the Hungarians in 997. Just the year before, he had married my cousin, Gisela of Bavaria, the daughter of Duke Henry II of Bavaria. Shortly after succeeding his father, he became the first King of Hungary in the year 1000, anointed by Pope Sylvester II.

Stephan was a tremendous supporter of the Christian faith during his reign, warring against various tribes and chieftains, building churches, advocating for the rights of the Holy See, and fighting against the pagan reaction to Christianity. It was concerning to me that he is reported .to have forcibly converted the Black Hungarians and was rewarded for it by Pope Sylvester II.

I often try to emulate virtues of the saints that are celebrated for the day, but I believe I will leave off the forced conversions! Saints make heroic efforts toward the ideal, and often there are miracles associated with them, but no human being is perfect, and the saints are not immune from this common imperfection.

If even the saints have failings, we can acknowledge our own without getting hysterical about it. None of us is so great that we are expected to be flawless. We all just do the best we can and hope for the best.

The way I figure it, if I can find a way to draw close to the saints, make them real to me and find some link to them, the inspiration may be greater. And I need all the help I can get. Sometimes, finding a point of commonality with a saint like King Saint Stephen of Hungary can be a challenge. I typically gravitate toward the mystics, the hermits and the anchoresses.  Contemplating Stephen's life story, I think I would like to emulate his strong faith, which he MUST have had in order to actually go to war over it, build churches and monastic institutions, and all the other efforts he made to normalize a new Christian culture in his country.

The Holy Right Hand of Saint Stephen of Hungary

Found to be incorrupt upon examination in his crypt

and thereafter "removed" and stored in this reliquary

Today I am coming to grips with some of my physical conditions that are gradually growing worse and making function difficult. I dropped my new computer last night and cracked the casing, so at only 3 months old, the poor baby has to go in to be fixed, which is terribly complicated because I have to back it up and encrypt it and arrange some kind of special security "key" to get back into it when it is returned to me. The man at Hewlett Packard who took my repair order has to call me back on Monday when the packaging is due to be delivered, and then he will walk me through it because I have hit the techno wall, something I thought would never happen.

I am breaking a lot of things lately. The long-term carpal tunnel syndrome has reduced the feeling in my fingers and makes me drop a lot of things. I can't count the number of phones I have cracked.

I used to get really mad at myself every time I dropped something or broke another phone, but I have decided to accept the reality of my situation. I am not being careless. I am not doing it deliberately. I am just old and broken - very broken, in some regards. I USED to be quite graceful, but no more. I have to accustom myself to the new reality and just deal with it. I am full of flaws, and there's little I can do about it. I used to be much more in charge of the direction of my life, but with the disabilities and aging, this is no longer the case.

Meanwhile, I hope you are enjoying these diary entries that juxtapose the saints with my daily doings. I hope to bring you into my life in these musings. I know I have nothing particularly grand to expound, but we are all together in this ordinary, daily grind of life, and it is in the ordinary production of our duties that we exhibit our faith. Saint Stephen did this in his kingly way, dealing with matters of state. and we do the same thing, but on a much less grand scale.

I hope this day finds you happy and serene.

God bless you all.

Silver Rose

Copyright (c) 2021

All rights reserved.

OUR LADY, REFUGE OF SINNERS - AUGUST 13

When I was in the Vedanta (Hindu) convent, I distinctly remember reading in many of the publications the idea that there is no such thing as sin. This was a popular idea among them, developed in many lectures, books and advertisements. Their theology is much different in this respect than the Catholic faith.

Purely from a psychological perspective, it may sound like a relief to have our sins dispensed with so easily - by pretending they don't exist - but it seems to me that being reminded that humans are not perfect goes a long way toward helping us cultivate humility, which is an absolutely necessary virtue for anyone who is serious about their spiritual life - no matter which religion has captured your heart.

"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

It's obvious to most of us that if we can make an honest appraisal of ourselves in preparation for confession, it's very helpful to establish ourselves in Truth. If you don't know that you need forgiveness, you won't seek a refuge. You won't feel the need, and that would be a mistake because you lose the psychological advantage of being able to wipe the slate clean and start fresh. As long as our repentance is honest and sincere, we get unlimited "do overs."

To be clear, humility is not the smarmy display of self-loathing or obsequiousness that is sometimes exhibited by con artists hoping to create the false image of humility in order to use others for their own purposes. Humility is not a personality trait of the bashful, "aw-shucks" kind that we sometimes see. Nor does it require that we pretend we know nothing, or that we have no experience or expertise in any topic, because that would not be True, and Truth is something that The Divine wants to see in us.

As a very holy person once told me, humility is the correct appreciation for one's own strengths and weaknesses. His prescription was to compare our positive traits to those of The Lord in order to keep things in perspective. We are good, but we can never be SO good that it rivals the glory of God. I have found this advice very helpful over the years, especially since there are some so-called "spiritual" people who try to manipulate others by insisting that you become submissive to THEM. Religious institutions are not immune from people looking to advance their own status, from the smallest cult to the largest world religions, this will always be the case.

Why the meditation on humility? Because this week, on August 13, we honor Our Lady in the form of the "Refuge of Sinners" and I feel the need to prepare just a little bit in order to take advantage of it.

Christianity is partially built upon the Old Talmudic Laws of the Jews. In the kingdoms of Israel and of Judah, there were six cities of refuge where you could go and claim asylum if you had committed accidental manslaughter. Maimonides applied this concept to include all 48 of the Levitical cities. This is a simplistic explanation of an ancient process which harkens back even further to the time before the "one true God" to the days when various deities had certain territory and the cities in those territories were automatically cities of refuge for anyone belonging to that God. "Sanctuary" was claimed from a small area around the altar of that God and eventually to the entire city of that God. This caused obvious problems, as these cities became hotbeds of crime, so that eventually only 6 cities were officially recognized as legitimate cities of sanctuary. This is the background for the concept we are dealing with when using this name of Our Lady as the "Refuge of Sinners."

But, in the Catholic faith, Mary is the sanctuary - not the God. There is a tremendous amount of confusion about this, as outsiders see our devotion to her as a sign that she is a God of some type, an idea which is completely without merit. Mary intercedes for us with The Lord and walks with us, holding our hand as a mother would, accompanying us and adding her pleas and her tears to our own. In the rosary, we ask her to pray for us:

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now

and at the moment of our death. Amen."

We love Mary, in imitation of how Christ loves her. She is an exemplar of an ideal disciple, and the perfect mother who gives birth to God and Man. If God trusts her to guide and protect his only son, He can trust her motherly hand with all his adopted children.

The Marian observance of Our Lady, Refuge of Sinners, is yet another lens through which I try to look at the world and my place in it, in addition to the process of my spiritual life. I find that the Marian observances and the feast days of the saints, as they appear on our calendar throughout the year, are worthy guideposts along the way. Each observance helps encourage me in my daily struggles.

Currently, I am dealing with some vulgar hate mail I received because of a woman I'd had to fire due to petty thievery and lying. The hate mail says they have been stalking me online, which isn't the first time, though receiving hate mail through the U.S. Postal system was a new twist in the story. It was also surprising to me that this woman continues to nurture hatred and retaliation against an old disabled lady she took advantage of. I've made sure that, if anything happens to me, the police have her name and the name of friends and relatives to investigate.

"Revenge not yourselves, my dearly beloved, but give

place unto wrath, for it is written: Revenge is mine,

saith the Lord." ~ Romans 12:19, 

Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition (DRA)

The most important thing I feel called to do under these circumstances, aside from ensuring my safety, is to FORGIVE these people and pray for their welfare, as we are called to do when faced with enemies intent on trying to hurt us. I will appeal to Our Lady, Refuge of Sinners, to intercede for me at the throne of God, but also I ask her to intercede for these people, as well. 

Forgiving these people and praying for them is an exercise in the humility I talked about earlier. I am not perfect. I crave the forgiveness of God for my own sins. How could I possibly place myself above the Lord and judge them harshly while expecting loving forgiveness from God for my OWN transgressions?

I am temperamentally inclined to wish for the happiness of all people, which makes it easier to forgive these folks and pray for them. Even before converting to Christianity, I knew that if I could not wish to see everyone in Heaven, I would be trapped by resentful attachment. My attention needs to be on The Lord - not on the evil that others may do. Even if I feel frightened or sad or damaged in any way by the cruelty of some other persons, I positively WILL myself to want their happiness and wellbeing. It is a decision, not a feeling, and nowhere in the scriptures can I find the assurance that I will feel great about deciding to pray for people who deliberately set out to wound me. You CAN forgive people and wish them well while feeling whatever emotion is real for you at the same time. They aren't mutually exclusive.

Don't think that it has not cost me. It isn't "easy" to forgive people who have tried to damage me after I have behaved in a loving way toward them. I have PTSD, and these kind of dark doings tend to set it off. It has been a challenge to assuage all the symptoms, as well as keep up my typical prayers and meditations. 

"Sin is what often divides family members, because sin is divisive

by nature - separating souls from God and from neighbor. But love

is unitive, and Our Lady of Refuge has such love for her sinful 

children, that she draws us all together around her, even with our

other differences intact, to partake of a common mercy."

~ Rev. John Henry Hanson, O. Praem.

I pray that you all have a wonderful week and that this Marian observance finds us all sheltered together under the mantle of Our Lady, the Refuge of Sinners. May she help to soothe all our hurts, fears and sinful souls, and may she stand before God and appeal to Him for our benefit.

Silver Rose

Copyright (c) 2021

All rights reserved

P.S. I am not an expert on this devotion, but if you would like to know more, please take a look at my reference list of links, below.

REFLECTION ON REFUGE OF SINNERS

TITLES OF OUR LADY FROM THE LITANY OF LORETO

OUR LADY, REFUGE OF SINNERS from Roman Catholic Saints

MARY, REFUGE OF SINNERS - Don Bosco College

FEAST OF OUR LADY, REFUGE OF SINNERS - Anastpaul.com

PRAYER TO MARY, REFUGE OF SINNERS - Catholic News Agency

HOMECOMING FOR THE CHILDREN OF GOD - Rev. John Henry Hanson, O. Praem.

SAINT MORWENNA - AUGUST 12 - BELOVED LOCAL HOLY WOMAN OF CORNWALL

Aerial view of the church at Morwenstow

and surrounding area.

I am particularly interested in obscure female saints whose background has something in common with mine or from whom I am descended. Sometime in the 6th century, today's saint settled in Cornwall, U.K., not far from where my Great Grandmother, Eliza Jane Oliver, was born. Saint Morwenna was born in Wales, to King Brychan, a legendary 5th century monarch of Breconshire in "mid Wales." (I also have familial ties to Wales, and am quite interested in that small country as well.)

King Saint Brychan

Morwenna's father is considered a saint, as are all 24 of his children (born by either 3 or 4 women, depending on the tale), and  there appears to be quite a bit of local enthusiasm and devotion for his memory, though little documentation of the facts. He was said to be an Irish prince who came to South Wales after his family "took charge" of the kingdom of Garthmadrun (now called "Brycheiniog in honor of this saintly king.) Local legend tells that he was both extremely pious and a good and generous ruler after the death of his father, but he was also fierce in battle, so it looks as if it was not a good idea to cross him. There are so many fascinating stories associated with him and his family that I could spend a good deal of time studying them, which I hope to do in future, but for today I will "stick with" his daughter Morwenna.

HENNACLIFF

After some time of schooling in Ireland, Morwenna lived at the hermitage of Hennacliff (the Raven's Crag) which was associated with the small town of Morwenstow, which translates to "Morwenna's holy place" and is at the top of a very high cliff that surveys the Atlantic Ocean and the perpetually stormy Atlantic sea. In a peculiar and almost magical atmospheric condition that occurs occasionally, one can just see the coast of Wales from this perch.

VIEW OF WALES FROM MORWENSTOW

Legend has it that the local people were extremely poor and could not afford to build a church or shelter for the traveling priests, so she built a rough church with her own hands by carrying stones up the steep cliff, and her iconography often makes reference to this. She stopped to rest at one point, and a spring is said to have gushed up from where she lay her holy head. This spring, which has run dry long ago, is just west of the church.

Icon of Saint Morwenna

carrying stones to build her church

Morwenna does not appear to have retained much of the resources or trappings of her royal birth, otherwise she would not have had to carry these stones herself in order to provide a church for the people of this area. Of course, this is not surprising, as she was unmarried, and women rarely (if ever) inherited much of any wealth from their fathers, which is why marrying off one's daughters was such a preoccupation of parents during this time. I am guessing that the hermitage was granted to her by her father, but I will have to search through all the myths and the mists of time to get an answer on that score.

Morwenna's Spring

(now dry)

I have found a lot of pictures of this area on the internet, and the stark beauty of this place is remarkable, inspiring many to both the heights of spiritual feeling and to beautiful reams of poetry. The poet Robert Hawker (1803-1875) was ordained in the English church in 1831 and was curate of the church at Morwenstow, where he remained until his death. (Prior to his residency, there hadn't been a vicar in that place for a century!) Of particular interest to me is that he became a Catholic on his death bed in 1875. So, here is another fascinating person that I need to add to the list of those I wish to study in future.

Church at Morwenstow

Parson Hawker gave Christian burial to shipwrecked seamen who washed up on the shores of his parish. Before his time, the sailors were either buried forlornly on the beach or, more often, left to the sea and its creatures. Hawker describes the celebrated shipwreck of the Caledonia in his book, Footprints of Former Men in Far Cornwall.

I would have loved to have known this eccentric man who loved bright colours. While most clergymen were wearing nothing but black, the only black he wore were his socks! From driftwood found on the beach, he built a hut ("Hawker's Hut") on Hennacliff, where he spent many hours writing poems and letters. 

When one imagines a hermitage, it looks FAR more like Parson Hawker's little driftwood shed than my city apartment in Albuquerque, but we contemplate where we find ourselves, and it's more important to consider what's going on inside the person's soul than the prettiness of the environment. Granted, it IS so much easier to meditate in a serene place with beautiful simple furnishings but our crosses are many and varied, each working together to render us humble in some fashion.

Hawker's Hut

As gorgeous as her hermitage in Cornwall was, Morwenna retained a great love for the Wales of her birth, and when she lay dying, she asked Saint Nectan to raise her up so she could see its lovely coast. She is buried at the church in Morwenstow.

On the north wall of the Morwenstow church there was discovered a painting of her, clasping a scroll to her chest with her left hand, and her right arm raised in blessing over a monk kneeling before her. The description of this image speaks to me of the regard in which people held this saint but also her vocation of hermit and selfless builder of the church.

Saint Morwenna lays her head down to rest

from her labors carrying stones uphill

and a spring gushes forth from that place.

To be a hermit is something that anyone can do. It is simply the vocation of someone who has decided to live apart from society for some time for the sake of God - to be in union with Him, typically immersed in long periods of silence. Like Saint Morwenna, hermits are not without work or labor of some sort, which depends on the particular charism of the hermit and the requirements of their condition, and they are not entirely without human companionship at all times. We are not allergic to other human beings. We are just living a life that naturally lends to spending more time alone with God than most people have.

One does not need permission to be a hermit or have this kind of vocation. It does not have to be officially recognized and there are no rules for this kind of thing except that one is living alone in a completely chaste and contemplative life without husband and children in tow, intentionally dedicated to God. There are some historical exceptions to this, such as when a mother and daughter decide to ban together and live a religious life, but it is typically done in a solitary fashion for large periods of time.

Hermits do not always maintain a lifelong vocation. Very often, hermits were followed into the wilderness and great monastic institutions sprang up. It depends entirely on circumstance and the will of God.

The baptistry at the church at Morwenstow

When I became disabled nearly 20 years ago, and it was apparent that I had to spend the rest of my life alone, without outside work, I decided to make lemonade out of lemons by dedicating my life to God as a hermit. I had not intended to become a hermit before that time. In fact, I had wanted to start a Catholic ashram, but God led me to this mode of expression of my faith and it has stood me in good stead. My "work" has been various, from writing this blog to painting religious art, and I expect that it will continue in that vein, unless and until God leads me to some other expression.

Reading about the lives of the saints who lived as hermits, especially the women, gives me encouragement and hope for my own vocation, since I have no support for it, financially, spiritually or emotionally. With the exception of my Social Security Insurance income, gathered from payments over three decades of work, I have nothing. It is up to me to keep up my spirits by seeking out the companionship of the saints like Morwenna.

Very often, people who are called to the eremitic life are unique personalities whose circumstances, talents and/or physical conditions would not be accepted by the Catholic officials. If you are a creative type like the colorful Parson Hawker who never wore black and was a celebrated poet, you will stand out like a sort thumb. I consider myself very similar to him in that regard. But he and Saint Morwenna were also compassionate people who dedicated a lot of their time to the welfare of the local people.

There are two Canon laws that allow for a hermit to take official vows "in the hands of" the local bishop, but one does not have to do so. As long as we don't represent ourselves as official representatives of The Church, it remains a personal, private religious vocation. I am Catholic and I am a hermit, but I am not an "official" Catholic hermit. This is exactly what Saint Morwenna did in her life - as did many other saints whose example I follow. It is a long tradition in the Catholic faith. 

Modern Catholics, so accustomed to family life and the contemporary parish setup, have a hard time understanding this vocation that was QUITE common throughout our history. Not everyone is destined for family life. In many cases, the saints lived a family life and then, on the death of their spouse, they retreated to a hermit style of life. Being a hermit is not equal to being a misanthrope, yet many people cannot imagine that a person who likes people could possibly be a hermit! I've gotten comments like that, over the two decades I have lived like this. Saint Morwenna, and those like her, keep me encouraged when no one else understands.

It is a challenge for a disabled person to live this vocation. Disability equates to poverty and lack of ability to do many things for oneself, so begging becomes part of the life. I worked for more than three decades, but my Social Security income is not enough for all my needs, so I find myself asking for help constantly. If I wasn't humble before, I sure have to be NOW. I have become a simple beggar, and there is nothing I can do to change it except for continue to work on my writing and my art and hope to improve the income into the hermitage. In the meantime, I have a GOFUNDME campaign, which you will find:

HERE - GO FUND ME CAMPAIGN

If you are unsure about donating money, which is understandable in this day and age, please go to my Amazon wish list. They have my address and will mail to me direct:

AMAZON WISH LIST

I encourage everyone who wants to follow the hermit path to get in touch with me. We may live alone but it does not mean we can't support one another in our vocation. I would love to hear about how you accomplish yours at home.

May God bless us all - hermits or housewives.

Silver Rose

Copyright (c) 2021 - All rights reserved.
No use by other persons for any purpose under any conditions.

Saints Morwenna and Nectar

Saint Jadwiga ("Hedwig") of Poland - July 17

 

QUEEN JADWIGA OF POLAND

ORIGINALLY CROWNED AS "KING"

1373 - 1382

The more I study the lives of the saints, it becomes more firmly established in my understanding that most of us have a destiny and a hedge of limitations that are set in place by what you could call "the accident of birth," in other words, if we were not born to the parents we were born to, our lives would most probably have resulted in something quite different.

After all, our parents get together and participate in the act of creation, each providing some aspect of the physical reality of a third person, and then this person comes into the world, a combination of both parents and, typically, lives in an atmosphere exuded by those parents, in some fashion or another.

Traditionally, people have become kings and queens due to this inherited destiny, and Saint Jadwiga of Poland is no different. My point is that destiny isn't restricted to the nobility alone. We are physically part of our family of origin, created from the DNA of those people.

As is sometimes the case, Jadwiga is another one of my "shirt tail relations." This one is comically complicated. She is RELATED TO Saint Hedwig of Silesia, and was named for her. Saint Hedwig of Silesia is the sister-in-law of my 2nd cousin, 24 times removed (Phillipe August II of France.) If you can keep that in your mind, you're a better man than I, Gunga Din.

Jadwiga was crowned "King," partially as a move to prohibit her husband from purloining the title from her. She had more Polish blood than most of the other available nobles - and the blood line was always what was important with the royals. It still is, I imagine.

The royals who become saints always interest me because they have all this massive power and money at their disposal, and yet they devote themselves fervently to a pursuit of a Godly life in the form of holy works, prayers, and that sort of thing. But I ALWAYS remind myself that these people of position and power are entirely free of any and all physical work having to do with the maintenance of their person. They do not wash a dish or cook or clean. What else would they do but take endless meetings, and pray? Some of these people never even DRESSED themselves or wiped their own butts! Servants did it all.

The machinations and negotiations of the matter of Jadwiga's husband would bore you to tears, so I won't give all the details. Suffice it to say that it seems to me that every one of these stories has the poor girl being pushed around and told what to do by countless men, and it's no wonder that many of these saintly maids turn and flee to a convent, as soon as the husband is dispatched to his death. (Jadwiga, however, is not one of these. She actually preceded her husband in death.)

In Jadwiga's case, she even had one prospective father-in-law demanding to set the time of consummation of the marriage, which is a little too close for my comfort, I can tell you that, but I am sure you have heard or read that in some royal instances, there are people either witnessing that event or sneaking in afterward to examine the bed linens to ensure that the woman was virgin. To have so many people intruding on one's intimate life would be much too communal for me, no matter how glamorous the life.

In this case, however, the very young Jadwiga was not able to marry the beau she had chosen (William of the previously mentioned demanding prospective father-in-law) as he had been rousted from bed and thrown from the castle. There are tales that she tried to follow him but the doors were locked against her leaving and, though she demanded an axe to break it down, she was not able to leave the castle. It is probably just as well, because she was barely 12 years old, or perhaps only 11.

It wasn't long before prelates and lords determined she would marry Jogaila, the Grand Duke of Lithuania, with whom they had conducted long negotiations. There are conflicting stories about Jadwiga's agreement to marry him. One pretty tale claims that after a long period of prayer it was revealed to her by God that Jogaila was to be her husband. I rather think that this was an invention to take the stink off a marriage of a 12 year-old child to a 35 year-old man. Can you imagine?

Jogaila had to promise to convert to Catholicism and to pay off the suitor that Jadwiga actually loved, young William of Habsburg, with 200,000 florins.

Jadwiga was considered to have been an excellent ruler, on the level of Boleslaw the Brave and Casimir the Great.

With regard to her holiness, she is part of a zealously religious family, she attended mass every day, and she was particularly devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary. There are allusions to many miracles attributed to her, and she is considered a medieval mystic (my kinda gal!) In 1997, Pope John Paul II prayed at her sarcophagus, she was beatified in August of 1986, and canonized a saint of the Catholic Church in June of 1997.

Everything about her lengthy story (which is nicely written out on Wikipedia, if you have interest) confirms my original premise that our destiny is in at least a major part, determined by our family situation. We come into the world prepared for it, and the situation into which we are born guides us, to a greater or lesser degree.

There is something to be said for having been born into an extremely religious family, for one thing. The Catholic Church, with its emphasis on family and on early Christian education, is wise to the importance of this. Early religious education informs you of the world of the spirit and provides a backdrop for your early life, as well as a foundation for future spiritual exploration. Of course, the hope is naturally that the children will continue on in the faith when they become adults, but it isn't mandatory. When it comes time to choose, one knows better what one is choosing if education in the faith has happened early. You've got to start somewhere, right?

In my case, I left home at 16, jumped into Scientology at 17,  then went on to two different styles of Buddhism, Hinduism (Vedanta), and mystical Catholicism. Without ANY religious training or education while young, my life as a young adult was a living study - a classroom of experience,

It is not possible for someone like me, for instance, to become a saint. The word "Saint," in the context of the Catholic worldview, is a formal designation. There's an entire code around it and is somewhat formulaic, if I may use that word. My life course was not set up in that fashion. My family was not "zealously religious," and was barely a family to begin with! A couple of wildly narcissistic people got together and got pregnant, had a short marriage and then moved on with their lives, separately.  Mistakes were made and abuse happened against us children. 

For my sibling and I, our parents are dead and will never make amends or help to heal OUR wounds. We must do that ourselves, with the help of others. Thanks be to God, I have a family of friends helping me, doing what they can to fill in the blanks. But can I become a saint? No. Not in the formal sense. Most of us couldn't possibly. We don't have the bona fides. I suppose if I started churning out miracles, The Church would have to do something about that, but it isn't likely to happen. I can barely get myself fed and clothed! Saint Jagwida came into this world somewhat set up for the position, it seems to me.

Can we ordinary people without pedigrees become "saintly?" I am sure of it. Of course we can. But it would always be a personal project. No one is going to help you with it.  If you don't come from the right family and if your background isn't within a narrow parameter, you won't even be considered suitable for a convent. If you've been divorced, for instance, forget it.

When I left the Hindu convent to get baptized and become Catholic, I had no idea that this was the state of affairs. I think I assumed that I would be baptized, my sins would be washed away in the eyes of The Church, and then I would happily join a Catholic Convent and become a happy little mystic there. But I was tragically naïve and uninformed.

And if you think it is any different as an independent religious, you'd be wrong about that. Despite the religious vocation of a hermit being part of the canon of the church, just try to get some  spiritual support for it and see what happens. If you don't have money, if you aren't a cradle Catholic, just see if you get any help.

The saints are very inspiring people, no doubt - but they have resources that many of us will never have - and there comes a time when the physical demands of one's life stand in the way of living a visibly monastic life. It is almost all I can do just to SURVIVE. I do spend a great deal of time in a perpetual walking prayer, like Brother Lawrence, but it doesn't look like the monastic life I envisioned. DESTINY. It's not with me, and I can't force it. Despite living as a monastic for 20 years, there is no spiritual, emotion or physical help coming from The Church.

I will be 67 in August. I am bowled over by it. There was a time when I was sure I might not reach adulthood. Yet, here I am - hoping to live another 60. But I am taking time now, in the midst of Covid which has caused an even more isolated life than is typical for me, to reflect on my life so far and to readjust my aspirations for the remainder.

I come from a family of artists and writers. The only skills I have that I can continue to do, physically speaking, are the artistic ones - writing, painting, jewelry making. No one ever told me I was too fat to be a writer. No one has ever said that I wasn't physically strong enough to paint or that they would not accept my jewelry for sale in their store because I had been divorced.  You see? Destiny. Nothing in my background is a bar to marketing my creative works. But it ALL works against me when I am trying to get spiritual support for the monastic vocation I've spent more than two decades living. 

 Meanwhile, my health and finances are terrible and I am slowly falling down the rabbit hole. I had counted on the inheritance my father had promised me my whole life, but he died under highly suspicious circumstances and I had been written out of his will AFTER he got dementia.  So, someone else is spending my inheritance while I struggle to survive.

It occurs to me that there are few advantages to being poor, but at least no one will kill me for my money! (In case you are wondering, I didn't even know my father had died until his body was cremated, so there was nothing I could do to have his death investigated.  I am confident, however, that the people who  killed him and stole my inheritance will have to answer for it in the eternity we all face at the end of our lives. They better enjoy the money now because there will be Hell to pay later! God will take care of them. It is not my business now.)

Anyway, all of this has left me stranded and I need to change some things. I don't receive enough income to support myself, so I can no longer afford to live a monastic lifestyle. I can't ask other people to feed me and house me. That means that I need to spend my energy doing things that will help me survive. I have previously sold my writing and my art, so I am going back to it. God will have to follow ME around for the next couple decades, for a change.

For the present time, I still need help with basic survival and with health issues. One friend has asked me to create another donation list on Amazon, and another has suggested I create a Go Fund Me campaign and she will let some people know.

The Amazon Wish List is made, and you will find it HERE.

There are many expenses connected with purchasing of supplies for the art and the writing. If you would like to donate to those things, please press the "DONATE" button above my picture at the top of this diary post. {If you have any questions about the types of things I need in this regard, feel free to contact me on FACEBOOK < (CLICK "FACEBOOK") OR leave a comment on this blog.

If you would like some personal recommendations, I am happy to provide those. Just contact me.

When the GOFUNDME campaign is made, I will edit this blog and provide a link.

I will also try my best to keep you in the loop and let you know how I am progressing. When one is in constant chronic pain and mobility is affected, it is very difficult to make changes in an exercise routine and to be able to stand long enough to prepare healthy meals. (It is so much less painful to just get in the car and go to a drive-through, isn't it?) I have been approved for a caregiver to come in and help me with the housekeeping and cooking, and once that happens, it will be easier, so perhaps you will all do me the favor of praying for a caregiver to be sent my way!

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

MEDITATION ON THEFT - SAINT LANDRADA OF AUSTRASIA - JULY 8

 

"Saint Landrada - Teaching the Widows and the Young"

SAINT LANDRADA OF AUSTRASIA

(d. Munsterbilzen, abt. 690 a.d.)

Feast Day: July 8

I dearly wish I could say that dedicating my life to the spiritual path would have automatically smoothed my path, that angels would go before me, paving the way for a steady and serene life. The truth is that one leads a spiritual life in spite of the dramas of daily life. Ridding oneself of unnecessary physical aspirations does help, but physical disabilities have interfered terribly - plus they make me far less "useful" in a parish or a convent. Like the hermits of the very early church, I am on my own, with only God to help and guide me on a daily basis.

Part of the difficulty, in addition to the limitations of mobility and chronic pain, is that I live among other human beings, in close quarters, in an apartment where many low-income people live, and we are surrounded by a sizeable contingent of drug addicts and homeless people. In fact, according to a police officer I spoke with, there are more than 200 people camping alongside the bosque that lines the Rio Grande River which flows past my apartment.

I've lived in this location, devoting my life to prayer and contemplation, for 16 years now, and, over those years, the local crime has gotten worse and worse. Theft of personal items in our gardens, on our patios and in our cars has become a huge problem.

THE LATEST IN A LONG STRING OF THEFTS

Today I have finished processing the latest theft. On Monday, the local vulgarians broke into my pitiful 27 year-old car for the 5th time. It is quite easy to do now, since I am missing the small window in the back passenger door and it is only covered with clear packing tape. The first time they broke into my car, they smashed that little window, and since thievery is rampant and regular at this apartment complex, I did not feel it was worth the great expense of finding one for this old vehicle and installing it, only to have it broken again next time some drug-addled petty plunderer decided to cause me great expense for the sake of the possibility of finding less than a dollars worth of change rolling around the interior.

Customarily, when the hooligans don't find some easy change in the ashtray, they leave the rest of the contents alone. It might be that they are looking for partially smoked cigarettes. I do not smoke, but they don't know that. Cigarettes are expensive, and the homeless will pick up half-smoked butts and put them to their lips, regardless of whatever germs and viruses might cover them.

This time, however, they took EVERYTHING from the interior, from the small trash bag I leave on the floor of the front passenger seat, to the sunscreen, the dog's leashes and car seat and, most regrettably, my PRESCRIPTION SUNGLASSES (which are going to be extremely time consuming and costly to replace, since I need a new prescription and was not able to get an appointment with my eye doctor until NOVEMBER. I realize this may seem improbable to anyone who is NOT on the poverty spectrum, but the fact is that the only affordable doctors for someone in my position are, understandably, jammed with clients in a town like Albuquerque where such a high percentage of the population is poor. Because of my numerous serious eye diseases, it is also not feasible to go to just anyone for my care - even when it comes to my prescription needs.)

While sunglasses are marketed as a sexy accessory, my need for them is medical and crucial. I've already lost the vision in one eye, and when the other eye "goes" I will obviously not be ABLE to drive at all - at which point, survival becomes even more crushingly difficult than it is at present, so losing my sunglasses is somewhat of a disaster.

When I asked the police clerk who took my report WHY they would take such non-salable items, she informed me they usually just throw them away and she doesn't know why. Unfortunately, although I DID check our dumpster immediately after discovering the vandalism, it was entirely empty. The garbage truck had already been to our property and took everything away.

I surmise that the thieves' method is to quickly sweep everything from the car and then go through it at their leisure in another location, hoping for something they can use, sell or smoke. Some years ago, police officers told me that there are more than 200 people living in the Bosque - camped out there - just yards from this complex. It is illegal, but they are skilled at evading the police. Once, this officer even stepped right onto the body of one of them who was hiding under a carpet of leaves!

It is also possible that the ruffians that have recently moved in here had something to do with this most recent vandalism.

THE SAGA OF THE NEIGHBORING HOODLUMS

There IS a garage attached to my apartment, but when I park my car in there I cannot get out again because the young hoodlums that have moved into my building recently are contemptuous of the other residents and regularly park their cars and the cars of their friends in everyone else's parking spots.  When they park in front of my garage, I can neither get in nor out.

Across the car windshield of those punk thugs is a motto in large white script that says (fully spelled out) "F - - K THE POPULATION."

There is a really vulgar "song" by that name, performed by "$uicideboy$" released in 2015, and a "street wear" company that uses that moniker, but the definition from the Urban Dictionary reads:

"A term used by a person who has seen through the bulls - - t" of humans who do not think and cause harm because they are so brainless. It means that you highly dislike humans as a whole because of the way they (go) about doing things."

One day, some months ago, when I was trying to get my car back INTO the garage, and I told some woman who is not a resident that she had to move, she became wildly hostile and began to screech at me that I don't own the apartment complex, that the space doesn't belong to me (which is actually DOES) ...and on and on. She was visiting the hoodlums on the upper floor, one of whom promptly came raging at me with two teenagers in tow, and the four of them swarmed me like cockroaches on a stale piece of bread, screaming at me, making pornographic gestures, threatening to hurt me, spitting at me, with the new resident taking a lead role. She was using the foulest language imaginable and screaming, "didn't I tell you this f - - king old b - - ch was gonna be a problem?" Yep. That's me. I'm the problem.

It occurred to me that the senseless vandalism of my car could have been instigated by these neighbors of mine. On the other hand, it could have been the "caregiver" I was assigned for all of 5 hours, a week or two ago. I meant to write about it at the time, but it was such a traumatic, exhausting experience that I wasn't able until now.

THE TALE OF THE DRUG-ADDLED "CAREGIVER"

I have gone without a caregiver for many more years than I have been able to adequately care for myself, and a couple weeks ago, the agency tasked with providing someone sent me a drug addict who, in her 37 years of life had never had even one job of any kind, much less as a "caregiver." I do not know why my agency thought that she would be equipped to help me because her 6 children were recently taken away from her and I am pretty sure that if she was doing a good job taking care of them, the legal system wouldn't have seen fit to have strangers care for them instead. (Her husband died not long ago in some heroin-related incident.) 

The woman was SUPPOSED to have been able to provide me with one errand a week, typically grocery shopping, but not only did she not own a car, she had not driven in 11 years! (I am guessing she lost the right to drive due to multiple infractions while impaired.) 

She was unable to follow directions and kept asking me for the definitions of the simplest words. I was at a loss as to how to explain these words to her as I could not imagine more elementary words to use! Throughout the day, I kept having to remind her to put things back where she found them, but she continued to scatter my tools and possessions around the apartment.

Oddly enough, she was either color-blind (which is rare for women) or (more likely) had so much brain damage from all the drug and alcohol abuse from such a young age that she was unable to link a color with its name.

[You may wonder how I know all this personal information about this woman, but it is simply what she told me when I said to her, "so tell me about yourself." It all came pouring out. She told me she was a drug addict and an alcoholic with three months of sobriety under her belt, that she had started "getting high" when she was 10, got married when she was 13, recently lost custody of her 6 children, is living in various motels around town, has never had a job of any kind, etc.]

Despite the really problematic background and its manifestations around the house, I kept trying to lift her spirits and tell her, "you can do this! Don't worry" and that sort of thing. I wanted to encourage her, and I did feel sorry for her, but it was exhausting.

Later in the afternoon, I realized that I HAD to go to the market for 3 urgently needed items, so I took her with me and told her that I would have her stand in line for me after I'd found them. She asked me if she could do her personal shopping while I waited in the car for her, but when I told her that she could not do this during the time she was being paid to take care of me, she continued to pressure me to agree, telling me that because she had no car, this was most convenient for her. When I continued to resist the big squeeze she was giving me, she became angry and remained in that state for the rest of the day. Her eyes were blazing, lips pursed and brow furrowed. Apparently she ALSO believes I was the problem.

Before she left, she put my garage door opener IN THE TRASH instead of back in the basket of the electric mobility scooter where it lives. I suppose she was trying to get back at me for not letting her do her shopping on my time. Either that, or this was just another example of her inability to put anything back where it belonged.

Lamentably, I did not find the garage door clicker until AFTER I had already replaced it, at a cost of $42.00 - which was obviously NOT in my budget and the cost of which must be taken from my grocery money.

ALL THEFT IS AN OFFENSE AGAINST THE FREEDOM OF THE PERSON

Ever since this happened, I have been asking myself, why is it I feel so violated when someone steals from me? It isn't as if I am terribly attached to physical objects. I am FAMOUS for giving everything away and starting over in a new place.

The entire history of my life has floated to the surface of my consciousness, and I was made to look at all the instances in which someone robbed me. It was absolutely haunting me. I had to come to terms with this, once and for all because this is a recurring theme in my life and I had been the victim of many predators. If I was going to put an end to it, I had to figure it out.

As I mentally slogged through the circumstances of all the many incidents, from my mother stealing my collection of silver dollars when I was 11, to the theft of my inheritance from my father after he became demented with Alzheimer's Disease, it became glaringly obvious that the reason thievery bothers me so much is that when someone steals from another person it robs the victim of the opportunity to give it to them willingly. It hijacks our FREEDOM!

I also realized that all sorts of people will steal from others. The only thing the scroungers have in common seems to be access and opportunity. Rich people, poor people, all sorts of people will steal from you. All they need is access and opportunity.

[This is also probably one of the reasons that Donald Trump disgusts me so much. He is an opportunist who is famous for cheating people.]

Also, and this may be hard to believe, but I am always very conscious of feeling sorry for the thieves because of how they have endangered their immortal souls. They may not believe in spiritual justice, but I do, and it makes me sad when I see someone endangering their immortal destiny.

The flood of memories that have assailed me over the last two days have been nightmarish to go through, but I did reach an important conclusion.

I USED to believe (and tell others) that "everyone is basically good," but I see now, with regretful sadness, that this is not true.  In fact, good people SEEM to be more rare than the bad in my life, but I think I should reframe this slightly and say that my naivete and gullibility likely attract these people to me and that someone who is more savvy and less trusting would probably have fewer of these kind of experiences than I do, leaving them with a slightly different subjective opinion. There are reasons why I have been such an easy mark, but there is no need to humiliate myself further by exposing all of that.

CLEANING UP THE MESS

Last night, I took a parcel of sanitizing wipes, a trash bag and another roll of clear packing tape to the car. I was horrified to see obvious evidence of bodily effluvia - the result of some kind of sexual activity - all over one window. I felt completely demoralized and revolted. Fortunately, I have plenty of disposable latex gloves, which I wore during the cleanup, but I wish to God I had the money to pay for a complete cleaning and sanitizing of the car.  In fact, I need a DIFFERENT car - a van that I can outfit with a ramp for my mobility scooter - but of course I have no such funds for that sort of venture.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DROP INTO DISABILITY

The evil that surrounds me now has something to do with what happened when I became disabled and thereby more poor. The heightened vulnerability attracted more predators. As I struggle against my physical limitations and chronic pain, the vibrations of that struggle can be seen and felt "in the waters" of life. Predators sense it.

I also realized that, in the midst of my frustration and grappling with the difficulty of accomplishing the basic physical tasks of life, I have dropped the ball when it comes to protecting myself spiritually with prayers against evil, so I have amped up the volume on those, and I offer you some examples for yourself, in case you have likewise found yourself the target of evil.

PRAYERS AGAINST EVIL

Saint Benedict Exorcism Prayer

I found a YouTube EIGHT HOUR exorcism prayer that may be helpful. If you are enduring a living Hell and also want to try it, FIND IT HERE

 

Prayer to Saint Michael

"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen."

I also have an entire book of prayers for Spiritual Warfare, which I am digging into today. Coincidentally, I purchased it in 2015, shortly after moving into my current apartment. You can get your own, which I bought personalized. It doesn't look like they are personalizing them any more, but you can get the book here:

MANUAL FOR SPIRITUAL WARFARE - Tan Books

One of the prayers from this book that I intend to recite regularly is:

"Hear us, oh Holy Lord, almighty Father, eternal God, and deign to send your holy angel from heaven, to guard, cherish, protect, visit and defend all who dwell in this house. Through Christ, our Lord, amen."

 

TODAY'S GOSPEL READING

When I am struggling to figure something out or to look for some guidance on a particular day, I will scour the official readings for that day and try to pull something from it that I can use to solve my dilemma.  It isn't that I expect some sort of magic confluence, but there is often something of value I can take away that, if not actually a solution for that particular problem, might give me a fresh perspective.  So, here is todays:

Matthew 10:7-15

7 And going, preach, saying: The kingdom of heaven is at hand.

8 Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils: freely have you received, freely give.

9 Do not possess gold, nor silver, nor money in your purses:

10 Nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor a staff, for the workman is worthy of his meat.

11 And into whatsoever city or town you shall enter, inquire who in it is worthy, and there abide till you go thence.

12 And when you come into the house, salute it, saying: Peace be to this house.

13 And if that house be worthy, your peace shall come upon it; but if it be not worthy, your peace shall return to you.

14 And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words; going forth out of that house or city shake off the dust from your feet.

15 Amen I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrha in the day of judgment, than for that city.

After reading today's Gospel, I have to say there are quite a few nuggets in it, but I won't hurry to analyze it here. Instead, I will sit with it until I've worked it all out.

SAINT OF THE DAY

Usually, there are few, if any, female saints to celebrate in the official church calendar of the feasts of the saints. Today there are a lot of women. Several of them belong to a group of Chinese martyrs that were beheaded during the Boxer Rebellion, and almost nothing is known of most of them. Others are barely known at all. And then there is Saint Landrada of Austrasia.

Saint Landrada of Austrasia

(died ca. 690)

Abbess/founder of Munsterbilzen Abbey (Belgium)

Munsterbilzen Abbey

[These buildings were erected in the 18th century at

the original location of Landrada's Abbey that she

founded in about 670.]

It looks like this abbey may be the oldest known Abbey of Dutch-speaking nuns. Historically, the Abbess who ruled there exercised lordship over the village of Munsterbilzen and four others until 1773 when forced to accede to the Prince-Bishop of Liege. It always annoys me when I learn of the men pushing out the women and asserting ownership and/or control in place of the nuns. On the other hand, I also suspect that women sometimes give it up too easily. We are afraid of being told we are not "nice" and we cave under pressure to be pliable instead of strong.

Landrada must have been a remarkable woman to have exerted such leadership during the 7th Century, don't you think? My little problems seem miniscule to what she must have had to endure. The Abbess had been a "Princess of the Holy Roman Empire" in addition to leading the nuns in their spiritual life.

I will be reading more about Landrada later in the day - and I encourage you to Google her also!

A SAD BIT OF BUSINESS

I am perpetually low on funds. That's no secret. But now that the car has been defiled and other needs have piled up, I have to start another GOFUNDME to pay for these things. Prior to becoming disabled, I never asked anyone for anything - even when my father was alive. He was very wealthy, but I never asked him for a dime. Now I am asking everyone for everything. It could be discouraging, except that I cling to my relationship with God and I trust in His love and plan for me.

The art work and the writing of the novel continue - but until something big is finished and brings in some funding, I rely upon the generosity of kind people.

If you are reading this and you got anything out of it, would you please consider a donation? Click the yellow "Donate" button below my photo (above, right.) I will add the GOFUNDME link when I have put it together. I JUST finished a campaign to replace my computer, which was successful, and it hurts my heart to have to do this again, but I have no choice and I can't afford to be proud.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose