Six Years a Catholic

Allegory of the Heart of St. Joseph (Source)

On the 30th of March, 2013, I made the profession of faith at the Easter Vigil and received the sacraments of Confirmation and First Holy Communion from then-Bishop-Elect David Talley. I can still remember the night well. It was raining hard outside, and so we had to light the Paschal fire at the church door. We catechumens and confirmandi huddled in darkness while the rites began. It was a moment of profound holiness, and an Easter liturgy I will never forget.

Much has happened since that night. I am still a sinner, much as I was then. Perhaps I am a bit more aware of the fact, though. That’s a grace in itself. I have been a student, a pilgrim, and a devotee. I have made many friends in heaven and earth who have helped me along the way to God. I am grateful for every one of them, and I hope I have been able to do the same from time to time.

Ever since 2014, I have consecrated every year of my life as a Catholic to some Holy Person. My second year was dedicated to Our Lady, the third to the Holy Ghost, the fourth to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and the fifth to the Sorrowful and Immaculate Heart of Mary. Keeping in this vein, I hereby consecrate my sixth year as a Catholic to the Most Chaste Heart of St. Joseph.

The Most Chaste Heart of St. Joseph (Source)

St. Joseph has been a great friend to me in the past, and has proven the power of his intercession on more than one occasion. I ask my readers to join me in praying now that St. Joseph will bless this coming year with abundant graces proper to my state of life, and especially an outpouring of those virtues which he so admirably exemplified: humility, purity, simplicity, detachment, submission to the will of God, reverence, and a constant, attentive devotion to Jesus and Mary.

St. Joseph with St Benedict and angels (Source)

Holy St. Joseph, pray for me.

Mighty St. Joseph, pray for me.

Humble St. Joseph, pray for me.

Pure St. Joseph, pray for me.

Pious St. Joseph, pray for me.

Sweet St. Joseph, pray for me.

Heart of St. Joseph, pray for me.

Amen.

The Coronation of St. Joseph (Source)


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Life Update: Doctoral Studies

Old Main. Photo taken by author, March 2019.

My dear friends and readers,

I am pleased to announce that I have accepted an offer to pursue a Ph.D. in History at Pennsylvania State University in State College, PA, having been awarded a University Graduate Fellowship. I will be working with Dr. Ronnie Po-chia Hsia, known for his scholarship on transnational Catholic reform and mission work in the early modern world. I have had the chance to meet with Dr. Hsia a few times now, and I am really looking forward to engaging with him and the rest of the faculty. The graduate cohort really impresses me, too. On a recent trip to State College, I was happy to discover that my future colleagues in the doctoral program were not only brilliant, but very friendly as well. All in all, it’s a great opportunity. I’m both honored and excited to join the intellectual community there.

My work will probably focus on what I currently study: Catholicism in the long 18th century, with a thematic focus on discourses of the supernatural and gender as well as a regional focus on Western Europe, especially France. My hope is to become more global as I advance in language skills and crystallize my theoretical and methodological foundation.

For me, going to Penn State is something of a homecoming. My ancestors lived in central Pennsylvania for generations. My father grew up in State College, and I still have some family in the area. There are photos of me as a kid standing behind the lion paws at the Palmer Museum of Art; my new office will be located in an attractive old Spanish revival building just across the street. I take this coincidence as a sign of Providence. I thought the same thing when, walking into the Corner Room for lunch, I discovered a large sign over the bar with the words “Haec Olim Meminisse Juvabit” – the motto of the Jefferson Literary and Debating Society. There’s a sense of circularity in the journey to Happy Valley.

I’m very grateful to everyone – family, friends, mentors, recommenders, advisors, and others – who have helped me along to this point. I truly could not have gotten here without so many incredible people supporting me. And of course, I am grateful to those heavenly friends who interceded for me along the way – especially at key moments of this last application process. With them, please pray for me as I commence the final act at Oxford and begin a new chapter in my life at Penn State.

And yes, I realize what this means – the Amish Catholic returns to Amish country. Go figure.

Time to weitermachen. (Source)

A Note to My Readers

My dear readers,

I should like to apologize for my long hiatus in writing. This term has been especially busy. I have, for instance, just completed a major research trip on the Continent. Various forces seem to have conspired to prevent me from finding the time to write. However, I have a few posts in mind that will, I hope, appear forthwith. In the meantime, enjoy this lovely image of various Bishops of Ghent in ermine and blue-purple.

Excellent 18th century prelatical dress. Photo taken in Ghent Cathedral by the author, Feb. 2018.


Happy New Year From The Amish Catholic!

Thus concludes Anno Domini MMXVIII. I hope all my readers had a very fruitful year, and I pray for them all to know many blessings in this coming one. I have a lot to be grateful for this year. I made so many wonderful friends, both via this blog and otherwise. You know who you are. My work seems to be progressing well enough. And I was published in First Things, Jesus The Imagination, and The Church Times. This blog received its 100,000th view. So the year was full of activity.

I also feel that I gained more insight into who I am as a person. I’d like to think that in some ways, at least, I’ve become a more self-aware and honest man, and that I’ve learned a little bit more about humility this year.

I encountered God in new ways at different points of the liturgical year and in various holy places. I befriended new saints.

For all this, I am profoundly grateful.

Here are the top 10 posts I published this year, by readership:

1. The Best Monastic Documentaries

2. Thoughts on Converting the Young

3. A Letter on Loneliness

4. A Relic of the 1965 Liturgy

5. A Forgotten Feast

6. The Art of Amoris Laetitia

7. Pascal and Amoris Laetitia

8. Fr. Faber on Unhappiness

9. Maurice Zundel on Prayer

10. St. Francis de Sales Doesn’t Dance

Incidentally, my main New Year’s resolution for 2019 remains the same as it was in 2018. I don’t know if I lived up to it very well this past year, but I shall strive to do so in the next.

And to conclude my writings here for 2018,

Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.
Amen.

100,000 Views

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This deserves some celebration. (Source)

What a milestone. When I started The Amish Catholic in February of 2017, I had no idea it would take off like this. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, share, or comment upon my work. I appreciate your consideration.

Prosaic Relics

Earlier this week, I went to the Birmingham Oratory for the Feast of Bl. John Henry Newman. Fr. Ignatius Harrison, the Provost, was kind enough to open up the Oratory house to me. I must offer him my tremendous thanks for his hospitable willingness to let me see such an incredible (and, it must be said, holy) place. Likewise, I thank Br. Ambrose Jackson of the Cardiff Oratory for taking time out of his busy schedule to give me what was an extraordinarily memorable tour. I went away from the experience with a rekindled devotion to Cardinal Newman.

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Your humble servant in Cardinal Newman’s own library. Photo taken by Br. Ambrose Jackson of the Cardiff Oratory. You can see Cardinal Newman’s violin case on the lower shelf of his standing desk at right.

There were many striking and beautiful sights at the Oratory – not the least of which was the Pontifical High Mass in the Usus Antiquior, celebrated by His Excellency, Bishop Robert Byrne. Even from so short an experience, I can tell that the Birmingham Oratory is one of the places where Catholicism is done well, where the Beauty of Holiness is made manifest for the edification of all the faithful. I walked away from that Mass feeling drawn upwards into something supernal, something far beyond my ken. This place that so palpably breathes the essence of Cardinal Newman is, as it were, an island of grace and recollection amidst a worldand, sadly, a Churchso often inimical to things of the spirit.

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The Birmingham Oratory with the relics of the Blessed Cardinal displayed for veneration by the faithful. This photo was taken by the author shortly before Mass.

Yet amidst all this splendor, I found myself peculiarly drawn to one very quiet, very easy-to-miss relic. It lies in the little chapel to St. Philip Neri to the left of the altar; in this placement, one can see the influence of the Chiesa Nuova on Newman and his sons, who modeled their house’s customs on Roman models. And so it is only appropriate to find relics of St. Philip there in that small and holy place, so evocative of the great father’s final resting place.

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The altar of St. Philip Neri, Birmingham Oratory. Photo taken by the author.

The collection of relics in the chapel are mostly second-class. These are not pieces of the body, but materials that touched St. Philip either in his life or after his death. One of these small items spoke to me in an especially strong way.

StPhilipsSpectacleCase

The little grey pouch you see to the left is St. Philip’s spectacle case. There is nothing terribly remarkable about it. It may not even be entirely intact, for all I know. A visible layer of dust covers the case, and a hard-to-read, handwritten label is all that identifies its use and provenance. No one comes to the Birmingham Oratory to see what once held St. Philip’s glasses. But of all the glorious relics I saw that day some encrusted in gold, some taken from rare and holy men, some evoking the perilous lives of saints who lived in a more heroic ageit was this humble artifact that most fired my imagination.

A spectacle case is no great thing. It does not shift the balance of empires or change the course of history. But humility and nobility are close cousins all the same. Here we come upon St. Philip in his quotidian life. A saint so marvelously strange, so crammed with the supernatural, so flame-like in darting from one miracle to another, nevertheless bent his fingers to the perfectly ordinary task of opening this case and taking out his spectacles so that he might see just a little better. It is a true maxim that grace builds upon nature. We have been told of St. Philip’s many graces. Here we find him in his nature; frail and imperfect and in need of just a little aid, so like our own.

The supernatural never erases the natural, and God is never more glorified than in our weakness. The hands that took up this case and opened it and drew forth its contents, perhaps a little fumblingly from time to time, are the very same thaumaturgic hands that lifted a prince out of death and Hell so that he might make his final confession. We know the story of the miracle. How rarely do we ponder the everyday conditions of its operation! How rarely do we consider those hands in their ordinary life.

There is a tendency with St. Philipas with many saints, and with Our Lord Himselfto reduce his life to one or two features. Some would make him an avuncular chap, always happy to laugh and thoroughly pleasant to be around, a jokester, a picture of joy and friend to all. On the other hand, we can get lost in the extraordinarily colorful miracles that mark St. Philip’s life, losing him in a fog of pious pictures and pablum. Neither captures his essence. The true middle way is to maintain a healthy sense of the bizarrean approach that recognizes the extraordinary in-breaking of the supernatural precisely because it appreciates the ordinary material of St. Philip’s day-to-day existence. It was this view that Fr. Ignatius himself recommended, though perhaps with a greater emphasis on the “weird,” in his homily delivered last St. Philip’s day.

I was reminded of this double reality when I saw St. Philip’s spectacle case. Prosaic relics carry this two-fold life within them more vividly than those upon which our ancestors’ piety has elaborated in glass and gold. Even Cardinal Newman’s violin case is not so markedly dual in this way; after all, every instrument belongs to that human portion of the supernatural we call “art.” Music, paintings, and other aesthetic forms all lift the human soul out of itself and into another world. In some ways, they are cousins both to Our Lady and to the Sacraments, God’s masterpieces of the sensible creation. Yet a spectacle casehow utilitarian. How plain. How merely functional. There is no poetry in a spectacle case. One can imagine writing a poem about a violinthe sinuous form of the wood almost suggests it, and more so when it carries a connection with so great a man as Newmanbut a spectacle case? Drab as this one is, its beauty comes only from the story it tells, from the life it once served, from the little help it gave its owner in his acquisition of beatitude.

Too often we wish to be God’s violins. In our quest for holiness, we wish to be admired, to cast our voice abroad, to give and seek beauty. These are not necessarily unworthy goals. But they are not the most important thing. Too infrequently do we turn our mind to the spectacle case. All too rarely do we seek our holiness in the gentle, quiet, everyday task of being useful, unnoticed, and present to God precisely when He needs us.

St. Philip knew how to be both, when he needed to be. May we learn to be like him in this as in so many respects.

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The effigy of Holy Father Philip, Chapel of St. Philip Neri, Birmingham Oratory. Photo taken by author.

 

Faber’s Oxford Poems: Part I

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A view of the Bodleian Library from Radcliffe Square. Photo taken by author.

Fr. Frederick William Faber, that great son of St. Philip, was one of the many Oxford converts. He was a Balliol man who later became a fellow of University College, where he embarked on an ecclesiastical career as an Anglican. Later, of course, he came to the Church of Rome and founded the London Oratory. But as I am now settling back into Oxford, I thought it might my readers might enjoy a few of his poems about life at the University. I’ll probably break the collection up into a few different posts. Although Faber was later famous as a hymn-writer, in his youth he was a Romantic poet who won the admiration of none other than Wordsworth, whom he met in the Lake District. Faber’s style may be rather too Victorian for our tastes today. They also represent his spirituality at a very immature stage, when he was still an Anglican. The contrast between “College Chapel’s” rather pathetic final line and Faber’s “Muscular” pose in “College Hall” amuses, to say the least. But occasionally, as in “College Garden,” his sensuality and yearning anticipate the best of the Decadents who came at the end of the century. Finally, I’ll add that Faber’s romantic attachment to the legends and traditions of the English medieval monastics once again confirms my point that there remains an abiding affinity between the Oratorian and Benedictine charisms. 

College Chapel

A shady seat by some cool mossy spring,
Where solemn trees close round, and make a gloom,
And faint and earthy smells, as from a tomb,
Unworldly thoughts and quiet wishes bring:
Such hast thou been to me each morn and eve;
Best loved when most thy call did interfere
With schemes of toil or pleasure, that deceive
And cheat young hearts; for then thou mad’st me feel
The holy Church more night, a thing to fear.
Sometimes, all day with books, thoughts proud and wild
Have risen, till I saw the sunbeams steal
Through painted glass at evensong, and weave
Their threefold tints upon the marble near,
Faith, prayer, and love, the spirit of a child!

College Hall

Still may the spirit of the ancient days
Rest on our feasts, nor self-indulgence strive
Nor languid softness to invade the rule,
Manly, severe, and chastethe hardy school
Wherein our might fathers learnt to raise
Their souls to Heaven, and virtue best could thrive.
They, who have felt how oft the hour is past
In idle, worldly talk, would fain recall
The brazen Eagle that in times of yore
Was wont to stand in each monastic hall;
From whence the Word, or some old Father’s lore,
Or Latin hymns that spoke of sin and death
Were gravely read; and lowly-listening faith
In silence grew, at feast as well as fast.

College Garden

Sacred to early morn and evening hours,
Another chapel reared for other prayers,
And full of gifts,smells after noon-day showers,
When bright-eyed birds look out from leafy bowers,
And natural perfumes shed on midnight airs,
And bells and old church-clocks and holy towers,
All heavenly images that cluster round.
The rose, and pink acacia, and green vine
Over the fretted wall together twine,
With creepers fair and many, woven up
Into religious allegories, made
All out of strange Church meanings, and inlaid
With golden thoughts, drunk from the dewy cup
Of morns and evenings spent in that dear ground!

College Library

A churchyard with a cloister running round
And quaint old effigies in act of prayer,
And painted banners mouldering strangely there
Where mitered prelates and grave doctors sleep,
Memorials of a consecrated ground!
Such is this antique room, a haunted place
Where dead men’s spirits come, and angels keep
Long hours of watch with wings in silence furled.
Early and late have I kept vigil here:
And I have seen the moonlight shadows trace
Dim glories on the missal’s blue and gold,
The work of my monastic sires that told
Of quiet ages men call dark and drear,
For Faith’s soft light is darkness to the world.

90,000 Views

90000-readers

Never expected this to happen.

Some time this month, The Amish Catholic received its 90,000th view. Thank you to all my readers for sticking with me, arguing with me, referring me, and generally paying attention.

The Best Monastic Documentaries: Eastern Edition

A few months ago, I published a post entitled “The Best Monastic Documentaries.” It was quickly pointed out to me that, although I had covered several good features, they were all about Western monks. So I decided that, once I had the time, I would assemble a review of the best documentaries covering Eastern Monasticism. That time has finally arrived! So buckle up, get out your chotki, and watch some of these films.

60 Minutes Goes to Mount Athos

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Simonopetra Monastery, Mount Athos, one of the monasteries profiled by 60 Minutes. (Source)

In 2011, viewers who tuned into the Christmas episode of CBS’s popular weekly news-documentary series, 60 Minutes, were greeted with an extraordinarily rare treat. For the first time in thirty years, the monks of Mount Athos had opened up their peninsula to a television crew. I remember when it premiered; this was one of my earliest encounters with the monastic tradition of the East. Bob Simon layers on the journalistic smarm, clearly stunned by and slightly distasteful at the various sacrifices and remnants of Medieval life on the Holy Mountain. Nevertheless, the holy simplicity of the monks that he interviews nevertheless shines through. I’m particularly impressed with the testimony to perpetual prayer – the prayer of the heart – given in this film. And luckily enough for us, both Part 1 and Part 2 can both be found online.

One Day in the Life of a Men’s Monastery

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The sound of the wooden doaca awakens the monks from their sleep and calls them to prayer. (Source)

This quiet, reverent film covers the daily routine of a monastery in Georgia. There is no dialogue and no plot, per se. We don’t follow the actions of any single monk. But the viewer does gain an insight into the feeling of the monastic rhythm in this little, faraway community of Abkhazia. Viewers who have seen Into Great Silence will recognize a very similar style in this film. My only criticism is that there’s rather too much focus on the work of the monks, and not enough on their prayer. Still, those moments of prayer we do see are also noteworthy for clearly showing the larger lay community that depends upon the monastery for spiritual sustenance. This short film is thus perhaps the most poetic production on our list.

The Brethren

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They’re pretty hard core. (Source)

Monks have always sought “the desert,” though sometimes that desert takes the form of tundra. The monks of Trifonov Pechengsky monastery, Kolsky Peninsula, Russia, must be some of the northernmost monastics on earth. This intimate portrait of the community  gives insight not only into the externals of ascetic life at the edge of the world, but also the reasons why men become and remain monks. It also shows, in a more explicit way than One Day in the Life of a Men’s Monastery, that the monks play an important role in their small town’s life and history.

“Hermits of Our Times – Orthodox Christian Monasticism (Hesychasm)”

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Monastic wisdom. (Source)

To be fair, this isn’t really a documentary. It seems to be footage from a Romanian Orthodox news service taken in the late 1990’s. But it does shine a helpful spotlight on modern anchorites (then) living in the Romanian forest. Anchorites are not monks per se; at least, they are not cenobites, living in cells within a larger community. They are hermits who may once have been attached to a community but now seek God in solitude. I always find myself deeply impressed by the simplicity and manifest wisdom of these holy men whenever I return to this clip. I am reminded of the sayings of the Optina Elders, the Desert Fathers, or even my good St. Philip Neri.

“The Motorbike Rider Who Became a Monk”

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The basics of monastic life, as communicated by a monk in Israel. (Source)

Again, I’m not sure this technically counts as a documentary. But it’s a good interview with a Cypriot who became a monk in Israel, at St. Gerasimos Monastery. One of the great strengths of this film, besides relating a vocation story, is the emphasis it places on the role of the Elder or Spiritual Father. For the Eastern Orthodox, and especially for monks, there is a spiritual lineage passed on from one old monk to younger ones (or to those in the world). In the West, we have mostly lost the sense of Spiritual Fatherhood by dividing its roles between the confessor and the spiritual director, neither of which carries the same weight as the Spiritual Father. But this short and helpful film is a good reminder of what still persists in the monastic tradition.

Behind the Monastery Walls

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Inside a Romanian monastery. (Source)

This 2011 documentary looks at the personal stories of various monks and nuns in Romania. It’s an artfully made piece, with a very good choral track throughout. But I admire its spiritual insights more than its aesthetic notes. Although the filmmaker does not seem to take a definitively Christian standpoint, she allows the monastics to speak for themselves. They provide a remarkable testimony to the strength of Orthodox traditions in the wake of Communism. We see not only the monks and nuns themselves, but  also the devotional practices of ordinary believers who come to the monasteries. There are, for instance, many prostrations before icons. I also enjoyed the film for my own personal reasons. Romanian monasticism will always hold a special place in my heart, as it was a trip to a Transylvanian monastery that started my conversion, about seven years ago.

I’m sure there are other examples one could point to, but for now, these are some good places to start. They cover a wide range of Orthodox practices and values, all refracted through the lens of its monastic tradition.

 

 

A Century on the Precious Blood

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The Golden Tree and Achievement of the Holy Grail, Edwin Austin Abbey, c. 1895. (Source)

1. When the Holy Ghost hovered over the waters, the uncreated light that shone from His face turned the waters red after the likeness of the Most Precious Blood.

2. The Most High made all things with breath and water and fire. He made all things for His love, that is to say, under the Blood. At the beginning were breath and water and fire under Blood. At the end will be breath and water and fire joined to Blood.

3. The four rivers, when traced back to their source, become one in the Garden, and the source of that one river is the well in Christ’s side.

4. The juice in the fruit of the Tree of Life is the Precious Blood.

5. When Cain murdered Abel, the Lord reproached him with the words, “Thy brother’s bloods cry out to me from the dust,” thereby speaking for the blood of all the generations of Abel destined never to bear fruit. Likewise, when Isaac was led to sacrifice, it was the first thirst of the Precious Blood of Christ contained therein. Its presence by anticipation in Isaac’s blood both set him apart as a sacrifice and saved him from death.

6. The flood that cleansed the world of sin was the earthly mirror of the heavenly flood of Divine Blood.

7. Yet even a flood that covered the whole face of the earth is as nothing before the torrents of Blood stored up in the Heart of the Most High.

8. When God set His bow in the clouds, every color spoke of some hidden secret. Red, the color of Blood, spoke silently of the mysterium tremendum.

9. The sacrifice of Isaac was a consecration of his blood into an eternal likeness of the Lamb’s Precious Blood.

10. When Moses prayed, and the Nile turned to blood, that blood was but an imitation of the Heavenly Blood that would deal death to the wicked powers.

11. When the Jews covered their doors in the blood of the Passover, that blood was but a foretaste of the Heavenly Blood that would deliver the whole world from death and bondage.

12. The sea that bowed before the people of Israel but covered their persecutors worked after the pattern of the Precious Blood.

13. The Martyr is like unto the rock that sent forth pure water at Massah and Meribah. The life-giving stream let loose from the stricken flesh of the Martyr is the very Blood of Christ.

14. The name of God, Jehovah-Jireh, refers to the Blood of Christ unfurled upon the Cross Triumphant.

15. The true and eternal Israel is constituted by the anointing of the Most Precious Blood.

16. The Precious Blood covers all who seek it with a dazzling darkness.

17. When the face of Moses shone, it was because his blood had been made like the Lamb’s. Truly, he had washed well in the torrent of the Word.

18. The cord of Rahab the Prostitute took its crimson hue from the Precious Blood.

19. The blood-stained cord of Rahab brought salvation to her household and joined her to the Nation of Israel. So it is with all who trust in the Precious Blood.

20. The blood-stained cord of Rahab is the earthly likeness of that heavenly cord that ties together the World.

21. The Precious Blood built the Temple.

22. The Precious Blood hallowed the Temple.

23. The Temple and the Precious Blood are, in their innermost being, one and the same.

24. The Blood belongs to the Altar, as the Altar belongs to the Blood.

25. The Precious Blood speaks from the Altar.

26. The Precious Blood is never apart from the Altar. Wherever it flows, it is an offering to the Most High.

27. The Altar of the Blood is the World’s foundation. None can hope to build anything that lasts if he would forsake this cornerstone.

28. Before the third and celestial Temple was built, the Lord was content to dwell in darkness. This was the time when the Precious Blood grew and resided in the Ark.

29. The Precious Blood is a sea in which Leviathan drowns.

30. The Lord leadeth me by the still waters, lays out a table before me, anoints me with oil, and maketh my cup to run over. All of these, like the four rivers of the Garden, go up into one great deed; for the Lord has given me His Blood.

31. The Lord hath founded the Earth upon the floods, and Zion upon His Blood.

32. As the hart panteth for the water of the brooks, so must our hearts pant for the Blood of the Lamb.

33. Though our tears be our meat in this day of mourning, soon we shall have the Blood of the Lamb and His heart for an imperishable repast.

34. The Lord is my Rock because His Blood rests on the Altar.

35. The Most Precious Blood is the help of my countenance.

36. The flood and waters that speak in the Heavens are drawn from the Precious Blood.

37. When God blots out our transgressions, He uses the Most Precious Blood.

38. Idols are bloodless gods.

39. The gift of the Bride is water. The gift of the Bridegroom is Blood.

40. The Precious Blood delights, nourishes, bears, imparts, and sanctifies all Wisdom.

41. The Precious Blood is the storm out of Heaven.

42. The Precious Blood may be consumed in two ways: on a scroll, or in the cup.

43. When the Prophet came to a valley of bones, he saw that they were dry. He said this because they had lost their blood.

44. The dry bones rose again when they were watered with the Precious Blood of the Lamb, that is, when the Prophet let loose the supernal fountains of the Word.

45. Blood flows from the Temple and sweetens the Sea. The Kingdom is re-drawn from the boundaries of Blood.

46. The Kingdom and the Temple are one in its Priest-King, that is to say, they join in the Precious Blood.

47. All the fruits in the Land of Zion are watered by the Blood of the Lamb.

48. Where there is no blood, there is the Desert.

49. Some are led out to the Desert for battle. If they fight with the luminous arms of the Precious Blood, they will triumph.

50. The Desert will bloom in Blood then, and the warriors will discover surpassing delights beyond all imagining.

51. Any seed that the Precious Blood waters will bloom into a great and mighty tree, and the birds of the air will come to nest in its branches.

52. The Pearl of Great Price is hidden in the Sea of the Precious Blood.

53. Oh wonder of wonders! The Mercy of God took up matter, and manifested itself to the senses of mortal men. For it clothed itself in the red raiment of the Precious Blood.

54. The Word is written in the Precious Blood.

55. Every letter in the Word is a bottomless well and roaring flood of the Precious Blood.

56. The torrents of the Blood sing only one word, the Name.

57. The Angels take their song from the voice of the rivers, from the pulse of the High Priest’s heart, from the roars of the waterfalls of His Blood.

58. The Forerunner rejoiced and cried aloud, “Behold the Lamb of God!” He did so because he saw the one who would fill the rivers of repentance with His Blood.

59. The Precious Blood is deathless life and Fleshless food.

60. The Precious Blood, let loose by wounds and sins, can heal every wound and sin.

61. We who are born of blood must be born of a new and supernal Blood, hidden from the beginning of the world.

62. We are called sheep because we have been covered in the Blood of the Lamb.

63. Providence writes the history of the Last and Everlasting Day in the ink of the Most Precious Blood.

64. Most lamps are fed with oil. The seven lampstands of the Temple are fed with oil and the Precious Blood.

65. The seven lampstands of Mount Zion take their oil from the Mount of Olives and their Blood from the hill of Golgotha.

66. The Precious Blood is the triumph, shield, and banner of the angels.

67. The firstfruits of the Lamb delight only in His Blood.

68. The Book of Life is alive indeed, for within it courses the imperishable Blood of the Lamb.

69. No name written in the Blood of the Lamb can ever die.

70. The Precious Blood bears supernal illumination.

71. The Precious Blood is at once the river and the bridge.

72. The Precious Blood is abroad in the world, riding the Green Lion.

73. The eternal marriage is consummated at the feast where the Precious Blood fills the chalice.

74. The robes of the Arch-Prophet, High Priest, and Emperor are red, for they have been dyed in the Precious Blood.

75. To live is to exist through the Blood and in the Blood and with the Blood – and for the Blood.

76. The Christian is the one who has the Precious Blood of Jesus coursing through his veins.

77. The demons tremble and quake before the Precious Blood, for it is their utter ruin.

78. If anyone should wish to confound the demons, let him call upon the Blood of the Lamb in confidence and hope.

79. There is absolute safety in the Precious Blood of Christ.

80. There can be no peace without the Precious Blood.

81. There are seven steps to the Temple: red, black, white, red, white, black, and red. The red steps take their hue from the Precious Blood.

82. No one may stand on the seventh, scarlet step but the Lamb, the Great High Priest, the Master of the Holy of Holies.

83. No one could begin the ascent if the Lamb had not cast His Blood upon the lowest step.

84. Most souls can only aspire to the middle, red step. But this step possesses nobility beyond all telling.

85. Very few souls are called to the white step above the red. Indeed, no one can mount to the second white stair without one foot ever on the middle red one. But blessed are they who may ascend to that stair!

86. On the last and deathless day, we shall all be carried up to the white step. But our feet shall be red with the Blood of the Lamb, the dye of the middle step.

87. Sober inebriation, the delight of the saints, comes from drinking of the Precious Blood without cease.

88. The wicked drink the Precious Blood as bats, cursed creatures of night. The penitent drink the Precious Blood as hummingbirds, remaining in bliss before the fragrance of Christ’s wounds.

89. The blood of the martyrs is one with the Blood of the Lamb.

90. The whole of heaven and earth is watered by the Precious Blood. If that flow should fail at any second, an untold ruin would fill all things.

91. The Precious Blood hides under three veils: the black, the white, and the red.

92. The black veil is the water of cleansing.

93. The white veil is the oil of illumination.

94. The red veil is the wine of union.

95. The most perfect of these veils is the red, for it perfectly manifests the ineffable truth it conceals.

96. The black and white veils lie outside the red – but once they are removed, they can never be put back on.

97. Those who see the red veil now may hope to see it removed when the Book is opened and all have their names restored to them in the Precious Blood.

98. The Precious Blood is the red candle enkindled by the Uncreated Fire.

99. The Lamb bleeds on seven seals within the seven bloodstained pillars, and these become the seven supernal fountains.

100. When the Precious Blood is poured out, it becomes still as wine held in a chalice. The Dove broods over it, and with the Light of the Dove on the surface, the Bride can find her true face as in a mirror of crystal.