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St. Catherine Of Siena

St Catherine was born March 25 in 1347. One of the youngest in a beautifully large family, Catherine grew up to be a healthy girl, despite the black death ravaging Italy at the time.

From a young age, Catherine was blessed with visions of Christ. She was accustomed to saying the Hail Mary on each step as she mounted stairs, and consecrated her virginity to God when she was seven years of age.

At fifteen her parents allowed her to join The Third Order of St. Dominic, though for the next three years she resided in her father’s shop, combining the life of a contemplative with the life of active charity.

She was a staunch defender of the true Pope. When some of the cardinals in the church set up anti-popes, Catherine travelled to Avignon, where the Pope of that time, Gregory XI, was residing, and bade him return to Rome. She sternly rebuked the disloyal cardinals who had assisted in the election of the antipopes.

Accompanied by three confessors, she travelled through Italy, bringing entire cities to the obedience of the Holy See. She was the counsellor of Urban VI.

Near the end of her life a terrible schism sept the city, a schism she herself had foretold. The devil prowled through the city, inciting the people against the Pope. Spiritually, Catherine saw legions of demons tempting the people to take the life cf Christ’s Vicar. Through prayers and weeping Catherine did much to forestall the tempter, even enduring hell’s rage as the devils vented their malice by scourging her.

She died at Rome, in 1380, at the age of thirty-three.

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Posted by on May 1, 2012 in Feast days

 

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Good Friday

In commemoration of Good Friday, I have posted this short story.
FOR GOD SO LOVED MEN

Dark lay the night, heavy and still with waitsomeness. No light shone, either upon the earth or indeed within the great expanse of the heavens. A dark mist lay tangled amongst the treetops, and here and there it lay like unwholesome pools of shadow upon the ground, and in the sky a cloud veiled the stars and smothered the moon, so not even a whisper of her glory was let fall.

In a garden, dark beneath the dark sky, He knelt, praying. Olive trees hung down their branches in foreboding, and a chill wind whispered their trepid leaves. A muttering tumult tore at the leaves in the form of a cold wind that clutched still at the chill of winter rather than turning itself warmer into a spring wind. Loud was the clamour amongst the olive branches, but about the Man, the world was still. His voice murmured, and blood like precious rubies lay upon his fevered body. His hands were tight-gripped upon each other, and he bowed His head upon the cold surface of a rock, which was His only solace in that hour.

The wind touched Him, laying cold fingers upon His drawn and sorrowful face, and into His ear it whispered in frozen tones, “How much do you love mankind, O God? How much?”

He cried out, “Father, not My will, but Thine be done!”

There came a multitude now, coming forth from the valley and passing into the garden wherein He prayed, forsaken by all. In their hands they bore torches, and the flames cast menacing shadows upon them, bathing their figures in an evil glow. In their eyes, the light of hell seemed to shine.

Forward they came, and drew up to Him, Who rose from His agony to stand before them. One came forth from that madding multitude and stepped to His side, lying a hand upon His shoulder and laying a bitter kiss upon His cheek. That kiss lay cold upon His face, and it whispered traitorously to Him, “How much do you love mankind, O God? How much?”

The Man turned His sorrowful eyes unto the traitor, and in a voice of utmost pain said softly, “Dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”

Bound He was led away, and the crowd spat upon Him and struck their hands upon Him, jeering and mocking Him in a manner most contumely. He was hastened before judges and bound to a post like a criminal, and before a jury of liars and unbelievers He was judged. As they accused against Him, He was silent. The clamour of their voices, lifted in false witness against Him, rang like the shrieks of devils unto the vaulted ceiling, and fell resounding into His ears. The echoes of these hellish accusations whispered and mocked at Him, saying, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?”

In those echoes the voice of the high priest adjured Him by the living God to make answer, whether He was Christ the Son of God. Then He made answer to these liars and false judges, saying, “Thou hast said it. Nevertheless, I say to you, hereafter you shall see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Power and coming upon the clouds of heaven.”
Breast were beaten, and He was accused of blasphemy, and the people raveled against Him like so many wolves, and the echoes beat in His ears, “How much, O God? How much?”

Before the tribunal He was judged unjustly, and into a courtyard He was taken and His garment were stripped from Him. To a pillar He was bound, and whips were lifted, and the scourges lashed and curled about His shoulder and tore at His body, and a crimson cloak of His own sacred Blood enfolded Him. With each strike upon His flesh the scourges hissed, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?”

And in the agony of His tortures He cried aloud in His spirit, and prayed, “Father, forgive them.”

From the pillar He was released, and upon a cruel stone He was thrown, all in the sharpest torment of agony, and about Him was wrapped a tattered cloth of royal purple. As it sat in mockery of kingliness upon His torn Body, it was stained red with the sacred dye of His humanity.

He sat in anguish, His breath hot and quick in His throat, and about Him He saw faces, faces with mouths spilling forth cruel laughter, faces that were lit with hellish glee, and in whose eyes dwelt devils of malice. The people mocked Him, falling upon their knees before Him. Into His bound hands was thrust a reed, for a sceptre. But, “a crown!” they shrieked. “The King needs a crown!” and thorny stalks were plucked and twined into a cap, and upon His bowed and submissive Head was this mockery thrust, the thorns anchoring deep into His flesh, His Blood standing upon His brow like jewels. He was bruised and tortured, jeered and spat upon, and the reed and the thorns whispered to Him, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?”

He whispered only, “Father, they know not what they do.”

Then He was taken into a courtyard, scarce able to walk for the pain that had been dealt Him, and the jeers of scorn and hate that the people yelled at Him lashed sharper than the scourges into His sensitive soul. In humility and degradation He was led forth, and His garments were stained scarlet and His eyes were blind with His Blood.

A cross, new-hewn and unstained, was laid upon His whipped shoulders, and it thrust upon His wounds. And He was surrounded by the hate-filled multitude, and soldiers led Him like the veriest beast with a rope about his waist, and still the cries and torments of malicious tongues pierced His Heart with sorrow. The cross lay heavy, heavy upon Him, and it whispered into His ear, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?”

He fell upon the uneven cobblestones, and into the pebbles He whispered, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

The stones beneath His feet tore His soles as He walked, and His footsteps were marked in red behind Him. Again He fell to His knees, and the weight of the cross crushed Him like grain in the mill, and the stones gouged deep the flesh of His hands and knees. A woman came from the crowd, a white towel in her hands, and she knelt before Him and with her towel she wiped away the blood and sweat that was on His face.

The cloth and the stones whispered, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?” Upon the white cloth He left the impress of His countenance.

Through the street He was dragged, and the sky was blue and clear above Him and the sun shone down its mighty radiance upon the shrieking multitude. Women wept and grieved for Him as He walked, weary and dying, and His wonderful, sorrowful eyes lit upon them in compassion.

The sun whispered to Him, “How much do You love mankind, O God? How much?”

He said to the women, “Weep not for Me, but for yourselves and for your children.”

Once more He fell, all His wounds crying out with the torment of His fall, and once more He struggled again to His feet, a Man of Sorrows, a Man of One Wound. On He struggled, and now at last He mounted upon the tall summit of a mountain, and it was barren and brown beneath the sun and wind.

The cross was taken from His shoulders and laid upon the stere ground. Rough hands seized Him and He turned His eyes upward to heaven. His stained garments were torn from His Body, and His Blood flowed afresh from His reopened wounds and stained the brown earth below. The earth whispered, “How much do you love mankind, O God? How much?”

Then the wind, and the kiss still burning cold upon His cheek, the clamouring echoes still sounding in His ears, the wounds of the scourges, the thorns upon His bowed Head, the wooden cross: all these whispered, “How much, O God? How much?”

He was thrown upon the cross, and He stretched forth His hands, and now! Now!

Now He answered!

“This much!” He said, his hands lying ready upon the arms of the cross.

“How much?” whispered the cross.

“This much!” He cried, the nails piercing his hands and feet and transfixing Him upon the new wood, His Blood slowly staining the smooth white wood.

“How much?” whispered the nails.

He was raised aloft, and the blood from His hands and feet flowed like royal banners down the white wood, and the blood lay on His brow, and tears like diamonds were in His eyes, and wounds like roses were in His hands and feet.

“This much.” He said.

The slow minutes passed, and the long hours slipped by. The grey pallour of death spread over Him, and the blue sky was covered over with a black cloud. The earth quaked and trembled, and in places the ground was rent, and fear came upon the multitude as the earth shook with revulsion for the deed that had been committed. The sky became darker than night, and He strained upon the cross and cried, “Father! Into Thy hands I commend My Spirit!”

As He died, all of creation cried out in victory, “How much does God love mankind?”

From the heavens the voices of the angels called forth, “This much!” and all eyes turned to the pale figure hanging dead upon the cross, whose arms were outspread in a gesture of love.

This much.

 
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Posted by on April 6, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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St. Patrick’s Breastplate

This might be a shocker for some people: St. Patrick of Ireland was born in Scotland of Roman parents. He’s not Irish at all, but he is the saint of Ireland because he spent most of his life in that country. He was there first as a young slave, with the chore of tending sheep. He escaped about six years later, and made his way back home to Britain for a brief while, where he reunited with his family. But the country of Ireland called to him, and he could not stay away. Ordained first a priest, and then Bishop, he returned to the green land and began to preach the Gospel there. By the end of his life he had converted most of pagan Ireland to the Catholic faith.

There are many posts written today about St. Patrick, and his feast. Therefore, I am not going to post too much about his life, works, and death. Instead, I’m going to share with you what I think is the absolutely most gorgeous prayer ever. It is commonly known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate, though it is also known as Faeth Fiada, or the Lorica of St. Patrick.

ST. PATRICK’S BREASTPLATE

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same, 
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith, Christ’s Incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the Cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour;
The service of the Seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the Prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, his shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death-wound and the burning
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
The strong name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Other links to peruse:
Old-Fashioned Girl
Occasional Randomness
Fire, Fleet, and Candlelight

Now, enjoy “The Deer’s Cry” by Angelina. This song is also called “St. Patrick’s Breastplate” because the words are taken from the prayer. Gorgeous. Don’t you love her voice? LOVELY!!

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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St. Brigid of Ireland

Brigid was born about 451 A.D., and her place of birth is thought to be in Faughart near Dundalk in Ireland. She was born to a pagan father, Dubthach, and a Christian slave named Broicsech. Soon after her birth her father, at the insistence of his wife, sold Broicsech to a Druidic poet in Connacht with the understanding that Brigid was to be returned to his keeping after she had been raised.

Brigid grew up under the holy influence of her Christian mother, and Broicsech did her best to ground her little daughter properly in Faith and God. She succeeded, too, for when Brigid was about ten years old she was sent back to live with her father. There she was given charge over the dairy, and this is where her greatest virtue was discovered: she gave everything away to the poor. Much of the produce she gleaned from the dairy she gave away to beggars and those in need. Her generosity enraged her pagan father, but Brigid was as strong-willed as he and continued stubbornly in her charity.

When she was a bit older she returned to assist her slave mother, who was hard at work in the Druid’s dairy. Brigid helped her mother with the milking and churning, and her generosity came with her. She would give away portions of her produce to the poor, and though she gave much, her pantry was always miraculously full. The miracle of her charity at length changed the heart of the Druid who owned Broicsech, and he converted to the Faith and released Broicsech from servitude.

After Broicsech’s release, she and Brigid made their way back to Dubthach’s land. Angered with her constant charity Dubthach took Brigid to the Dunlang, King of Leinster, in order to give Brigid as a bondwoman to him. However, Dunlang was a Christian, and when he heard Dubthach’s story and went to see Brigid he perceived the Christian greatness in her. He persuaded Dubthach to give Brigid her freedom, and gave Dubthach a sword to replace the one Brigid had given away as her father was complaining to the King in the first place.

As a free woman Brigid desired to consecrate herself wholly to God by becoming a nun. To discourage men from thoughts of marriage to her, she prayed that God would make her ugly so she could follow her vocation in peace. God answered her prayer, and Brigid, freed from the attention of men, became the first nun in Ireland.

Her first convent that she established in Ardagh was so successful that the Bishop requested she travel throughout all of Ireland and set up convents in all parts of Ireland. For years she did so, and at length she became well-known for her wisdom and generosity. She became so beloved that she was referred to as “The Mary of The Gael.”

She died at a very advanced age in the year 525 AD. She is the patroness of dairy maids, infants, midwives, blacksmiths, poets, nuns, and students, and she is also honoured as one of the patron saints of Ireland.

Fish Eaters: Feast of St. Brigid
St. Brigid of Ireland

http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=453

 
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Posted by on February 1, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Happy Epiphany!

Today is the feast of the Epiphany, a word derived from the Greek form which means to reveal. Epiphany is called this because this is the day that Christ revealed himself to the three Wisemen. These men, the Magi, were the first Gentiles to whom Christ revealed himself, fulfilling Simeon’s prophecy that the Christ would be “a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and a glory to Thy people Israel.”

The Magi’s act of worship acknowledged Christ as the King of all people, races, and nations. To Him they brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh: gold, as a sign of His Kingship; frankincense, as a sign of His Deity; myrrh, as a sign of His death.

The Epiphany, celebrated on January Sixth, marks the closure of the twelve days of Christmas.

In my family, we celebrate the feast of the Epiphany. This started because, about twenty years ago, my grandpa died right before Christmas and my mom flew home to Montana to be with her mom during Christmas. She took the baby of the family with her, who was only three months old at the time. The rest of us kids spent Christmas without Mom and our baby sister, so my dad had the idea to save one gift under the tree to open when Mom came home. Since that time, we rather liked the idea of saving a gift on Christmas day and leaving it under the tree for the twelve days of Christmas, and on the Feast of the Epiphany, when the Magi came and left one more present during the night, we celebrated a Little Christmas. It has since become a tradition. Christmas would not be Christmas if we did not save a gift for the Epiphany.

Feast of the Epiphany: Fish Eater’s Forum
Twelfth Night: Fish Eater’s Forum

 
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Posted by on January 6, 2012 in Feast days, The Epiphany

 

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Our Lady of Guadalupe, and St. Lucy

Advent really doesn’t seem like such a difficult time of penance as Lent does. Lent, which is the time of preparation before Easter, is a much more somber season, for it looks toward the death of Christ on the cross, and though it ends with the blossoming of Easter, the Crucifixion very much influences the tone of the season. Advent is very joyful, anticipating the birth of Christ. It is a very special time before Christmas when we prepare for the coming of Christ with extra little sacrifices and deprivations that help us to deny ourselves and leave our hearts ready for God, and it is simply peppered with so many different feast days.

We just celebrated St. Nicholas’ feast day on the sixth of December, followed closely by the feast of the Immaculate Conception on December eighth.

Yesterday on December twelfth we celebrated the feast of our Lady of Guadalupe, who is the patron saint of the Americas as well as being the special patroness of the unborn. I’m not going to speak very much about this feast day, for Maria at Fire, Fleet, and Candlelight has done a post on her already and included a magnificent video that is simply amazing and full of details. However, I will include the spiritual adoption prayer that goes with this picture I’ve included here, for it is a beautiful prayer that any person can pray for the life of any one unborn child who is in danger of abortion.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I love you very much. I beg you to spare the life of the unborn baby that I have spiritually adopted who is in danger of abortion. The name I wish to give my baby is:________

Jesus, may your peace and your love embrace the hearts, minds and souls of the family, friends and love ones who encourage this abortion and lead them all to your sacred and Eucharistic heart.”

____________________________________________

December thirteenth is the feast of St. Lucy.

Not very much is known about this saint, but there are some facts that are certain. Lucy was born at the end of the third century in a place called Syracuse in Sicily, of noble parents. Her father was a Roman, and because of her name Lucy’s mother Eutychia is believed to be of Grecian blood.

Her father died while she was still young and Lucy lived with her mother. From a very young age Lucy consecrated her virginity to God, but she kept this vow a secret even from her mother. Her great love of God inspired in her the desire to give her wealth to the poor. Eutychia was not so like-minded and Lucy was unable to fulfill this desire.

When Lucy was a young woman Eutychia developed a hemorrhage, which she suffered for several years. During this time Lucy bargained with her: If they went and prayed before the relics of St Agatha (a virgin who had been martyred 52 years ago during the Decian persecution) and Eutychia was healed, then Lucy would be granted full liberty to dispose of the wealth as she willed. Eutychia agreed, and they travelled thence.

By the grace of God Eutychia was cured, and Lucy was free to distribute her wealth as she saw fit. Unfortunately, there was a young pagan gentleman who fancied Lucy, and when he saw her giving her entire fortune to the poor he flew into a rage and accused her before the pagan governor Paschasius of being a Christian. At that time Diocletian was the Roman Emperor and one of the cruelest persecutors of the Christians. Because Lucy refused to relinquish her faith she was subjected to a number of torments. First she was ordered to be dragged to a brothel, where it was hoped she would lose her purity, but God made her immovable and the guards were unable to shift her. Afterward, sticks were gathered underneath her and flames were kindled about her, but God spared her the heat and torment of fire. Seeing that they availed nothing they at last killed her by thrusting a sword into her throat.

She died about the year 304.

Her name is inserted in the Canon of the Mass.

Most paintings of St. Lucy show her depicted holding a small dish with eyes laid within it. There are different variations about the meaning of this symbol. One story tell us that, during her persecution, her eyes were cruelly defaced or torn out. Another says that Lucy herself plucked them out in an effort to dissuade her pagan suitor. In each story, God rewards her by restoring her eyes to her, more beautiful than ever. Because of this she is the patron saint for those who suffer diseases of the eye. Some attribute the meaning of her name to the reason she is invoked as the patron of eye diseases, for her name is derived from the Latin word lux, which means light.

Lucy’s feast day is still associated with lengthening days and sunlight, for according to the Julian Calendar her feast day of December thirteenth did fall on the shortest day of the year, and after that date the days grew longer. With the change to the Gregorian Calendar, which is the calendar we go by today, the shortest day of the year falls on the twenty-first.

There are many traditions associated with St. Lucy’s day. The most well-known is the celebration kept in Sweden. On this day one of the daughters of the family, either oldest or youngest, is chosen as St. Lucia, and she arises in the morning before her parents do. Clothed in a white gown with a scarlet sash about her waist, and wearing a green wreath crowned with four, seven, or nine candles she bears a tray of coffee and pastries called lussekatter (Lucy Cats) to her parents.

Penitents.Org
Fish Eaters
Catholic.org

 
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Posted by on December 13, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Two Feast days

This was a very special week for us over in “Catholic Land.” On December 6th we celebrated the feast of St. Nicholas of Myra, the holy bishop the rest of the world knows as Santa Claus, and on December 8th we celebrated the feast of the Immaculate Conception.

First, St. Nicholas. He is an amazing saint. He was born during the third century in a village known as Patara. Both his parents died when he was very young, and he used the inheritance they left him to tend to the poor. He  became a bishop when he was still quite a young man, and he was well-known throughout his land for his generosity and love of the poor.

He was alive during the reign of the Roman emperor Diocletian and suffered for his faith even to the point of exile and imprisonment. However, he remained steadfast and proved his faithfulness soon after at the Council of Nicaea, where the heretic Arius wrongfully proclaimed that Jesus Christ was not God but a mere creature only, created by God the Father. Unable to endure this slight against the Christ, St. Nicholas rose up and struck Arius across the face! He was punished for this act of violence by having his Pallium and Gospels stripped from him, and was imprisoned for a brief while, but he was released after Christ and the Blessed Virgin visited him in his cell and restored him his Pallium and Gospels.

He is a wellspring of many legends and tales, and it would seem that men of all classes have taken him for their special patron.

He died in Myra on December 6th, AD 343.

Cantuar.blogspot.com
Legends of St. Nicholas: St. Nicholas Center

Now for the Immaculate Conception!

The Immaculate Conception is the term that is applied to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to her alone. It is a term that proves to the world that from the very moment of conception, from the very instant that she was first formed within her mother’s womb, she was immaculate, without sin.

Some people think that this term refers to Christ’s conception in Mary’s womb, and others think that this means our Lady was conceived by the power of the Holy Ghost as Christ was conceived within her womb, but both of these are incorrect. It means that she was conceived from the very first without that stain of Original Sin which has tainted mankind since the fall of Adam and Eve. She alone of all creatures is the only one conceived without sin.

There are very few religions that tolerate our Blessed Virgin. They simply cannot accept the fact that she was the Mother of God and a sinless woman. If she were without sin, would that not make her equal to God? Why would it? God created Adam and Eve without sin, and he created the angels without sin. Yet he gave them free will, the right to do what they will. He will not tyrannize his creations. He seeks to win them through love. Some creations reject that love, as in the case with Lucifer. He committed the First Sin. He called that first cry into the world, “I will not serve!” Through his malice he caused Adam and Eve to commit the first sin on earth, and now we are all tainted with that sin. Yet we were created sinless!

Catholic.com has a gorgeous analogy that they provide, which I’d like to share here:

“Consider an analogy: Suppose a man falls into a deep pit, and someone reaches down to pull him out. The man has been “saved” from the pit. Now imagine a woman walking along, and she too is about to topple into the pit, but at the very moment that she is to fall in, someone holds her back and prevents her. She too has been saved from the pit, but in an even better way: She was not simply taken out of the pit, she was prevented from getting stained by the mud in the first place. This is the illustration Christians have used for a thousand years to explain how Mary was saved by Christ. By receiving Christ’s grace at her conception, she had his grace applied to her before she was able to become mired in original sin and its stain.”

The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception was officially defined in 1824 by Pope Pius IX. A doctrine is formally defined when there is a controversy surrounding a certain teaching, or when the magisterium wants to show the faithful the importance to some already-existing belief. The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception was not instituted because of any widespread doubts concerning the truth of our Lady’s conception. It was instituted because Pius IX hoped the definition would inspire others in their devotion of her.

Catholics truly love Mother Mary. She is our sweet mother. She will do all she can to save us from the fires of hell and lead us to heaven with her Jesus. She gives us many ways and means to do penance and attain heaven. One of her most powerful prayers is the Hail Mary, a gentle prayer that she gave to St. Dominic (but that is a story for another day!)

Here is the prayer down below. A good virtue to acquire is to say this pray three times in the morning and three times at night, as a safeguard against impurity. There is another prayer you can say between the Hail Mary’s, if you’d like, but they are mostly optional. The important prayer is the Hail Mary. If you so desire, by all means please say this prayer as fervently as you can to our dear Mother Mary.

THE HAIL MARY

Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Prayer that can be said between Hail Mary’s: “Oh most holy and immaculate Virgin Mother of God, keep my body pure and my soul holy. Oh most holy, Immaculate Heart of Mary, keep me this day from mortal sin.” –

Fish Eaters: Feast of the Immaculate Conception
Catholic.com: The Immaculate Conception

God bless!!

 

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