I'm finally rounding out my Cistercian Monastery series with the Glorious Mysteries.  Whew!

Jesus knows how I feel:

I like how the sculptor made His robes look like they're billowing.  It's stone!  How do you carve stone into something that looks like it's fluttering in the wind???  If I could high-five the artist, I would.  

The next two mysteries are different from all the other sculptures in that they are done in mid-relief style.  I thought it was an odd choice given all the others are statues, but it was probably a lot cheaper to go this route than creating individual statues for all the saints present for these two events.

First up is the Ascension.  

Five apostles are chosen to represent the lot of them.  Again, I'm pretty sure this was done to cut down on both space and expense.  The image of Jesus is almost exactly the same as the form used for the Resurrection and the apostles are in various states of adoration.  

You can't really tell from the photo, but this is actually a very tall relief. When you're standing in front of it, you have to look up at it, and it does seem as if it's stretching up to the sky.  Given how blue the sky was that day, it seemed that Christ was ascending right off the sculpture.  

Pretty awesome.  

Vincent tried to give one of the apostles a high five because of how his hand was sculpted.  That was funny.  The lake also stretches out behind this one.

The next relief is a large image of Pentecost.  I admit to being a fan of this one.  Here's a detail of it:

I love how Our Lady is both centered and raised above the apostles.  Given her status as Daughter, Spouse and Mother of God, it's fitting that she's got a large halo and is so obviously set apart from the men who she gently guided as they began building the Church her Son began.  Here's the full image:

The next statue is probably my least favorite, but I think it's just me being picky.  She's looking up into Heaven, but she looks resigned.  I'd imagine she'd looked over-joyed... not just transfixed in a "I'm ready, come get me!" type stare.  I almost feel this would have been her calm, reflected pose when she said "Fiat" to His Incarnation.  But I digress.  Here she is in all her Assumption-y glory:

Finally, the next statue is my favorite of the Glorious Mysteries.  The Coronation of Mary looks like Our Lady of Mount Carmel.  See for yourself:

She's officially Queen of the Universe (you can see her standing on the moon, planets and earth.  She's enthroned upon a gorgeous detailed throne and hands are open in welcome.  She's so regal, gentle and beautiful.  I love this one!

And that, my friends, is FINALLY the end of my Cistercian virtual tour.  I hope you enjoyed!

The garden leads you directly from one mystery into another, which I like.  There are areas for you to sit or kneel for prayer, but the path simply continues to follow in the footsteps of Christ on the road to our salvation.  

I really like that.

This set of mysteries is my favorite of the bunch.   I just love the expressions of Christ.  The artists did a fantastic job.  They really, really did.

The Scourging was a little sad and confusing for Vincent.  He couldn't understand why Jesus ("a good guy") had His Hands tied up.  Vincent went behind Him and tried to undo the rocky tethers that bound Him.  I explained that Jesus wasn't trapped anymore, but that when He was on earth, He took the beating so that His friends didn't have to.  That made Him a hero to everyone.  Vincent understood that, but it left him kinda quiet for the next couple minutes.

The Crowning with Thorns is simply Christ seated with with a simple robe, His Hands still bound, and a sad (and regal) expression on His Face.  The way the artists placed His Hands enables the faithful to leave behind flowers as a sort of scepter.  Of the mysteries, I think this is my favorite.  It's nothing like the Coronation of Mary, but the way the artists created the two, they obviously parallel one another.

Next was Christ taking up His Cross, and again the expression on His Face is remarkable.  

Walking along the path a bit father I saw a huge chapel-like shed which stood directly across from the Nativity "stable" from the Joyful Mysteries.  Obviously drawing yet another parallel, the Crucifixion placement and artistry again highlights a theological truth.  Christ was born to die on a Cross.  He came into the world to die saving it.  Incredible.

Stay tuned for the Glorious Mysteries.  Hopefully it won't take me a month to cycle back through and update you!  :)  

Vince ran right over to the Annunciation. I asked if he knew who the statues were of and he immediately said "Mary."

I said, "Do you know who the angel is?"

Originally he thought it was St. Michael (because that's the angel he's most familiar with), but I explained that this angel was named Gabriel and got to tell Mary she was going to be Jesus' Mommy!

Vincent looked at their faces while I snapped a few photos.  Then he took off running towards the Visitation.  

As you can see here, Vince has made himself at home with St. Elizabeth.  Her hands are open, almost as if to stop the Blessed Mother from approaching her.  

I can almost hear her saying, "Who am I that the Mother of my Lord should come to me?"

And yet come Mary does.  Come she must. For though news of Jesus' existence has not been announced, St. Elizabeth recognizes His Divine Presence as does her unborn son, John (the-one-day-Baptist), who leaps for joy within her womb.

Mary came, and in her labored procession to accompany Elizabeth in her final months of pregnancy, she unwittingly blessed the world with the very first Eucharistic Procession.  

After all, she carried Christ Incarnate within her. She was the first, and most perfect, monstrance.  

Mary, for her part, raises both her hands in a gesture of offering. Elizabeth should not be amazed that Mary has come to her, for it is not through Mary's doing that she has become the Mother of God.  She is simply the hand-maiden of the Lord, and from this statue, you can just imagine her leading St. Elizabeth in the first of many Magnificats.  

"My soul glorifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God, my Saviour. He looks on his servant in her lowliness; henceforth all ages will call me blessed. The Almighty works marvels for me.  Holy his name!"

For the Nativity, I was so happy to see they built a "stable" around the statues.  Vincent was quite happy with the set up, too, as he freely went in to "see baby Jesus."

Mar is kneeling, and Joseph has his hands open and slightly outstretched, almost as if awaiting the gift of his newborn Son to be placed in his arms.  

Vincent bent down and kissed the Child Jesus as he'd been taught to do at our parish manger.  It made me happy that he remembered this small act of reverence.

Then again, he could've just been kissing on another child, because he adores kissing babies on the head.  Regardless, I thought it was sweet.

The next mystery, the Presentation, was beautifully done.  Vince was already there before I'd even finished taking photos of the Nativity.  He kept calling out "Mommy, Mommy!  I found birds!"

I thought he'd found a nest or something, but it turns out he was talking about the doves St. Joseph was holding as an offering / ransom as dictated by Jewish custom.  The angel between Mary and Joseph isn't actually a part of this particular set (spoiler: Agony in the Garden), but I guess my angle picked him up.  Ah well.  

This mystery is the precursor to our celebration of Mass.  God gives us (represented by Joseph and Mary) the gift of Himself (Christ).  We offer this gift back to the Father through our mediator, the priest, and in turn, God ransoms Himself and we are thus blessed to have Him eternally.  God is a master at foreshadowing!

This set of statues was interesting because St. Joseph was noticeably missing.  The Blessed Mother, looking quite haggard (but again, her hands in prayer as she offers even this terror to God in accordance with His Will) is present, but St. Joseph is nowhere to be found.  This is likely due to budgeting constraints, but I noticed it immediately. The scribes were dutifully paying attention to the Christ-child who looked incredibly regal standing on his pedestal teaching them about Himself (the Word of God, fully incarnate). Of course, again the master of foreshadowing, the Finding of Jesus in the Temple was looking forward to the Resurrection.  Christ went "missing" during the Paschal feast.  It took His parents three days to "find" Him again.  

This is a photo I took last year at some point while visiting the Basilica in Philadelphia.  On the left is a painting of the Ascension.  To the right is the Assumption.  Pretty awesome, right?

Today, I took Vince into Philly for their 12:05 Mass.  We were in for a treat since Archbishop Chaput was the main celebrant.  His homily consisted of quotes from Pope Benedict's previous sermon on the Ascension several years ago.  

Anyway, when we entered the Basilica, Vince and I sat up towards the front as we typically do.  I like him being able to see what's going on.  Today he was incredulous.  It was his first Mass at the Basilica, and woooooooo - his eyes were in Heaven!

When we sat down, I didn't realize that we were directly in front of the painting of the Ascension.  Vincent looked up and said, "Mommy, Jesus is going to Heaven!  Look!"

I followed his line of sight and smiled at the good fortune of having been steered to our particular seats.  I snapped this picture with my cell phone (so it doesn't look nearly as nice as the one above):

I said "Vincent, that's exactly why we're here today!  We're celebrating that Jesus went up to Heaven!"

He said, "Yeah!" as if he'd known that all along.  

I said, "Do you know why He went to Heaven?"

And again, as if I'd asked the silliest question ever, he replied matter-of-factly, "To make lunch for everyone."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  Right on, grasshopper.  Right on.  

The outside of this church belies its spacious, breezy interior with golden sunlight streaming in from every window.  It feels like you are ambling under a gazebo during a relaxing summer afternoon.  I was surprised with how massive it felt, especially when you considered the size of the image of Mary that hung high and proud behind the tabernacle.

I grinned when I noted that the pews were very modest. There were no cushions, no padding on the kneelers.  Worship isn't about creature comforts... it's about praising God.

I captured this sacristan's head along with the tabernacle to give you an idea just how massive this piece of artwork actually is. This rendition of Our Lady of Guadalupe might be among my favorites.  She is simply beautiful, as she should be.  Above her are the words "Queen of Mexico and Empress of America."  At least I'm 99.9% sure of that, anyway.

I felt like this piece was woven or embroidered somehow.  It wasn't a painting... at least I don' think it was.  I just couldn't imagine the time it took to painstakingly stitch each glorious detail.  

Here is a full shot of the sanctuary.  Given the scope of the Virgin's tapestry, you can imagine how large the crucifix actually is.  

I didn't notice until after I'd taken the photo, but the detail of Christ's Face moved me.  I don't typically like the super gaunt versions of Our Lord looking anorexic (He was a carpenter - He would have been strong and broad from all His toil with wood), but I did not mind this one so much.  The artist did not shy away from the Blood that oozed from His wounds.  I appreciate that His shoulder wound and those on His knees were accounted for. So often they are forgotten.

St. Michael and a beautiful guardian angel flank both sides of the sanctuary.  St. Michael has the power of the Holy Spirit above him while the guardian angel protects her three native charges.  I really loved this latter stained glass image.  It was very peaceful and loving.

One of their beautiful circular stained glass windows, this one depicting the Holy Family.

Which one of you dares to disbelieve Our Lady's intervention now?!  :)

A fitting painting for above the confessional - Jesus saving St. Peter from his own lack of faith.

A couple of their stations.  I'm always appreciative when the Resurrection is included.  :)

I probably should've mentioned these last two points in my other blog entry, but here will do just fine.

Instead of having lay ministers, this parish utilizes the Brides of Christ to bring Communion to the people.  I'm not the biggest fan of women acting as Eucharistic Ministers, but if you're going to allow it, I can't imagine a better way.  

Also, the altar servers sat at opposites sides of the sanctuary facing one another (behind the altar but in front of the tabernacle).  I thought they were very much like the Seraphim who guarded the Ark of the Covenant.  It made me smile to think of them as such given their constant gaze upon the tabernacle.

Finally, a photo of me (graciously taken by my husband) with a frond of palm across from the church.  On the way back to the resort, I braided what turned out to be four long leaves into small crowns for my statues at home.  

All in all, a beautiful experience at a wonderful parish... even if I couldn't understand all the words being spoken, I could feel the love.  For me, that is enough.

The Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe, located in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico, was a beautiful slice of Heaven located a few miles from our resort.  It took only 15 minutes or so to arrive by taxi, and my husband was kind enough to accompany me into town so I wouldn't be travelling around in Mexico by myself.

That's right, folks.  My wonderful (and atheist) husband agreed to chaperone.  Having him with me, I felt confident and comfortable.  Thank God he's such a gem.  I know Mass was the last thing he wanted to do (especially on our last morning in Mexico), but he came.  God bless him, he came.

We arrived about 20 minutes before Mass which gave me ample time to snap a few photographs and pay attention to the pre-Mass cleaning and organization that happened in a flurry of volunteers.  

In the sanctuary, an adorable sister swept the marble floor.  She paid careful attention to the stairs and shooed away someone dropping palm strands unwittingly before the podium.

An older gentleman, his one arm bandaged tightly to his chest, was using his other arm to deftly maneuver a broom in and out of each pew, somehow navigating kneelers, feet and purses. The action must have been hard on his good arm and shoulder - even his lower back probably hurt from constantly stooping to get under the seats - but he did not seem to mind.  He offered himself as custodian of the Lord's House, and I marveled at his quiet dedication.

Then there were ladies in dressed in red.  Obviously part of a society of sorts (or maybe a hospitality committee), these women acted like an army of mother hens, hurriedly flitting back and forth through the entire church, ushering some folks to their seats, handing out copies of the readings, informing folks where they could go for palm, etc.  It was like they were everywhere at once, working together as a well-oiled machine in anticipation of the swell of Palm Sunday worshippers.

Then there was Father Patrick.  At least I'm about 99.9% sure it was Father Patrick.  This thoroughly Irish priest stood out from the procession both for his fair complexion and his height.  My husband chuckled with surprise and confusion at his presence.  He and our friends wondered why they'd need to import an Irish priest given the country is thoroughly Catholic.  

They failed to realize that tourists need Confession, too, and English is the best way to reach the majority of us.  At least that was my guess.  Not that it matters.  A priest is a priest regardless of his country of origin, and Lord knows I'm always grateful for them wherever they are.

I had briefly connected with Father Patrick before travelling down to Mexico.  My blogger-friend, Jacob Wall, kindly put us into contact when Jacob found out I was trying to plan for Mass while on vacation.  

***As a complete aside, I must take a moment to publicly thank Jacob for his incredible help.  Without his e-mails of reassurance and helpful pointers, I'm pretty sure I'd've stuck out like the sore thumb I am for more reasons than simply language.  His guidance was instrumental in making me feel at ease leaving the resort to cross through town to get to this parish.  I honestly cannot thank him enough for his willingness to patiently answer my questions.  THANK YOU, JACOB!!!  

Mass was exactly what I'd envisioned. There was a wonderful procession into the church led by Father Patrick in his alb and two young altar boys.  A lone guitarist strummed simple (but beautiful) melodies that engaged the whole congregation.  The readers were direct and humble, each being sure to pay respect to their God in the tabernacle with a genuflect or a reverent bow. Their attention to this often-forgotten reverence made my heart leap with joy.

One thing that surprised me, though, was the Gospel reading.  As many of you know, the Passion Narrative is re-enacted by the priest, lector, and congregation.  This re-enactment is a reminder to us that we, too, participated in the Crucifixion of Christ.  

I retract that statement for correction.  Instead, it should read "This re-enactment is a reminder to us that we, too, PARTICIPATE in the Crucifixion of Christ."  After all, we participate each and every time we sin.  Each sin is an echo of "Crucify Him!"  Heaven forgive us.

As this narrative was being read, I noticed that no one in the congregation was reading their portion.  Only I was (or it seemed that way to me).  I can't speak fluent Spanish, but I can fluidly read the words printed in front of me, so I read our portion aloud only to realize I was the only one reading aloud in addition to the second lector.  

I was confused.  I wasn't sure if it was a cultural thing to not take part in the spoken liturgy beyond prescribed responses, or if the majority of parishioners were unable to read.  I can't imagine it being the latter because it seemed like they were reading along, just not being vocal about it.  Regardless, I kept pace with the reading figuring if I was wrong, the folks around me would chalk it up to my own ignorance at custom.  At least I hoped they would.

The homily went well beyond my realm of understanding.  The only portion I was able to catch was when Father Patrick explained that Christ did not come as a mighty conqueror.  He came as a humble Man who died a terrible death on the Cross.  He was not what the people were expecting their champion to be.  Instead, He brought salvation in a way no one had foreseen. I'm very likely butchering even my weak paraphrasing of the snippet I think I understood, but it was enough of a reflection to keep me sustained through the rest of his homily.  Maybe that's all God thought I needed to think on... especially given how arrogant I tend to be sometimes.  

Christ didn't come as a warrior who violently clamped down on His enemies.  He came as a gentle victim, offering Himself as a beacon that would lead us home.

            Stay tuned for my next entry, dedicated to their artwork.

Here I go again.

I'm about to gush about Blessed Teresa of Calcutta Parish for the billionth time.  A quick search pulled the following entries:

• Original "So I found a Cool Parish" entry
  
• Readings for Christ the King
• Prophet Isaiah homily

Those are just the ones I found doing a quick search.  I know I've written about this parish and its pastor plenty of times.  In fact, should MY pastor ever figure out I've got a blog, he might be inclined to think I'm playing favorites.  *Grin*

Truth be told, you guys know I love my priests - all of them.  And I view each of them as gifts.  I adore my pastor, but I try not to write about my actual home parish for privacy reasons.  

That being said, I LOVE this priest, and I love the community he has built up in Collingswood.  If you're ever lucky enough to find yourself in S. Jersey and in need of an evening Mass, stop on by.  Fr. John will welcome you with open arms and an educational homily that stirs both your intellect and your heart.

God bless him, he's a true pastor in this regard.  He takes time to teach his parishioners, and he teaches straight from his super-sized heart.

He doesn't just teach during the homily, either.  He pointed out the liturgical colors of the 4th Sunday at the beginning of Mass, and also touched on why the readings and music were thematically different from those we hear the rest of Lent.

After all, we've now reached the midway point.  Though we still face the night, we see dawn on the horizon.  The light of the Resurrection - Christ's triumph over sin and death - is awaiting us should we persevere in His Way just a little longer.

The music director chose an entrance song I'd never heard before.  I snapped a photo of the missal after Mass so I wouldn't forget it.  Have any of you (barring Frank K. or his wife who, I feel, have a terribly unfair advantage - ha!) ever heard of it?

I thought it was a great balance between the solemness of Lent and the hopeful supplication we offer for the promise of the Resurrection.  I absolutely BUTCHERED the music (sorry, Congregation), but I was appreciative of the thoughtfulness put into the selection.  

The Recessional Hymn was a favorite from childhood - Lead Me, Lord.  All you trads out there, try not to roll your eyes too much at me.  I enjoy uplifting songs at the end of Mass, especially when they are warranted and flow with the message of Mass.  This was perfect.
Offertory / Communion songs were also fitting.  Kudos to the music director - really.  In truth, he always does a great job, but last night's selections were just so spot on that I couldn't help but say a prayer of thanks for his subtle highlighting of theme.

But back to the pastor.  His homily was STELLAR.  He's a homilist who can happily run on for 20 minutes.  Best part?  He's a homilist you don't mind listening to if he does stretch his time.  I love that he's not worried about keeping within a restrictive time limit.  He's not afraid to expound or share anecdotes that color God's movements in his life.  He shares what's in his heart and what's in his heart is a complete reflection of the Gospel message.

He made a great point about "the poor" last night.  So often we talk about "the poor" during Lent, offering prayers and alms for "the poor."  We need to shift our view and recognize them as "our poor."  These people belong to us.  They are our responsibility and God gifted them to us as ways to act in the name of Divine Providence.  We can and must reach out with love to these brothers and sisters.  I just found that reflection to be beautiful.

Alright, I'm gonna stop now because I'll just wax poetic for another mindless 10 paragraphs. I'll spare you, but be warned... I'll likely be bringing up BTC in the future.  BTC and Mary, Mother of the Church (St. Rita's Parish) are my two buddies.  If I'm not at my home parish (which I also love), I'm hanging out with one of them. 

Whoa, right?

Just... whoa.

When I walked into St. Edmond's Church in S. Philly, I was stunned to absolute silence when I saw the sanctuary.  

I didn't even notice the flowers (which says a lot given they spilled out of the sanctuary and up two aisles different aisles).  I was absolutely taken by the giant mural of Calvary, the breathtaking statues of depicting the Crucifixion.  

Just... wow.  

At first, I didn't even notice Mary Magdalene at the foot of the Cross.  You can barely make her out from the iPhone photo above.  But she's there, clinging to Christ's Cross, grieved for the suffering He endured.  The Blessed  Mother's face was sad but intensely loving - as if she wanted to soothe His suffering with arrows of Love shot directly from her broken heart. Poor St. John just looks humble and awestruck... as if he's just beginning to understand what Jesus meant all those times He said He'd have to leave him and the other disciples.

Christ, for His part, is displayed with His arms outstretched and both hands with three fingers raised.  Behind Him, on the mural, is painted Jerusalem.  A storm is raging as no doubt the veil of the Temple is being torn in two.  

It was by contemplating this sanctuary that I realized Christ was forced out of the earthly Jerusalem in order to open the gates of the Heavenly Jerusalem to us.  

He exiled Himself from Heaven to come to Earth in order to come back again the Victor over death.

I love this sanctuary!  What a powerful visual.  I'm still in awe - even through a terrible iPhone photo!

Above this scene is a mural of the Coronation of Mary.  It's dark, but you can see it here:

The angel to the left is kneeling and holding a banner that reads "Hail Mary, Queen of Heaven."  The other angels are kneeling and blessing God for her triumph over sin to become Queen of Heaven.

The Trinity is present (even though you can't make out the Holy Spirit - sorry).  Beneath them are seven gorgeous stained glass windows, each one depicting a Sacrament.

I found this art setup to be ingenious.  Your eye is drawn up to the Heavens, but your focus is always on the Crucifixion. 

It's just beautiful.

I'll have to stop back at this church with a real camera at some point.  You can tell the parishioners take incredibly good care of it.  Everything is impeccable.  Uncle Billy was blessed to have his final Mass said in such a beautiful place of worship.  I hope others attending the funeral felt a little closer to God... a little more understanding of His love... as a result of seeing these incredible works of sacred art.

This is where I attended Mass on Ascension Thursday.  

For those of you who are unaware, St. John Neumann was a bishop of Philadelphia and brought us some incredibly wonderful treasures in his tenure as Archbishop.  He opened the door to many religious communities, founded orphanages and schools, and did his best to provide a proper education, healthcare and basic necessities to the many immigrants that made their way through our fair city.  

For his great love of Christ and His Church, God bestowed upon this servant the title of Saint.  Even more glorious, God worked His grace through St. John by blessing him to be among the Incorruptibles.  

St. Peter the Apostle houses a shrine built in his honor.  This shrine boasts a small museum of his artifacts and relics, but most importantly, this shrine houses St. John's body beneath an altar.  

Enjoy the photos.

I got a mini-tour of St. Laurence in Upper Darby, PA the other day.  I wanted to share some of the more exquisite details with you!