O Solemn Bells

 The Angelus
by Bret Harte

(Heard at the Mission Dolores, 1868) 

 Bells of the Past, whose long-forgotten music
 Still fills the wide expanse,
 Tingeing the sober twilight of the Present
 With color of romance! 

 I hear your call, and see the sun descending
 On rock and wave and sand,
 As down the coast the Mission voices, blending,
 Girdle the heathen land. 

 Within the circle of your incantation
 No blight nor mildew falls;
 Nor fierce unrest, nor lust, nor low ambition
 Passes those airy walls. 

 Borne on the swell of your long waves receding,
 I touch the farther Past;
 I see the dying glow of Spanish glory,
 The sunset dream and last! 

 Before me rise the dome-shaped Mission towers,
 The white Presidio;
 The swart commander in his leathern jerkin,
 The priest in stole of snow. 

 Once more I see Portala's cross uplifting
 Above the setting sun;
 And past the headland, northward, slowly drifting,
 The freighted galleon. 

 O solemn bells! whose consecrated masses
 Recall the faith of old;
 O tinkling bells! that lulled with twilight music
 The spiritual fold! 

 Your voices break and falter in the darkness, --
Break, falter, and are still;
 And veiled and mystic, like the Host descending,
 The sun sinks from the hill!

That Fearful Judgment

 

  In the hour when, in the midst of silence, the trumpet of your coming sounds in great terror and the awesome legions of the angels fly down in turbulence, and when all men arise from the graves, trembling in their inquisition, the heavenly hosts will shake from the vehemence of the judgment of the earthly, when the cherubim carrying you extol you, O Just Judge, indeed, in that fearful judgment when the actions of each man are repaid, have mercy on me, O Friend of mankind!

[From the Basilica Hymn for Wednesday of the Week of Weeks, in The Book of Before and After: The Liturgy of the Hours of the Church of the East, Fr. Andrew Younan, ed. and tr., The Catholic University of America Press (Washington, DC: 2024), p. 505.]

Glad in the Universal Joys that Keep

 Reflections
by Paul Elmer More 

 Right often as I gazed upon the sea
And over all the billows far and wide,
Meseemed each passing wave but rose and died,
To murmur in the air some mystery
Learned in the solemn depths where such may be;
And once when the broad wind rose from the tide
And with the gathered burden louder sighed,
Meseemed I caught their utterance thus to me:--
Live in the heart of things where warnings sleep
That tears and laughter are not idle farce;
Live, not ashamed for honest pain to weep,
Still conqueror through sorrow's many wars,
Glad in the universal joys that keep,
And worthy of the sunlight and the stars.

New Life Apart from Sheol

 We adore the Memorial of your honorable Passion, O Savior, and also your Cross, which prepared a joyful feast for us. In it, we all accept the forgiveness of debts and sins, and new life apart from Sheol dawns for us, as well as the reproof of unbelievers, the boast of your faithful Church, and the glory of your victorious unending power!

[From the Basilica Hymn for Tuesday of the Week of Weeks, in The Book of Before and After: The Liturgy of the Hours of the Church of the East, Fr. Andrew Younan, ed. and tr., The Catholic University of America Press (Washington, DC: 2024), p. 505.]

Francis (1936-2025)

 Pope Francis has died today, on Easter Monday and the memorial of St. Anselm of Canterbury. St. Anselm is about as different from Pope Francis as I can imagine a bishop being, but Easter Monday is a day of hope, and as much as people will often use the word 'mercy' in discussions of Pope Francis today, it was hope, I think, that best characterized him, a pope who was in some ways always looking for tomorrow. Hope was a key idea in the Urbi et Orbi speech yesterday:

The resurrection of Jesus is indeed the basis of our hope. For in the light of this event, hope is no longer an illusion. Thanks to Christ — crucified and risen from the dead — hope does not disappoint! Spes non confundit! (Romans 5:5). That hope is not an evasion, but a challenge; it does not delude, but empowers us. 

 All those who put their hope in God place their feeble hands in his strong and mighty hand; they let themselves be raised up and set out on a journey. Together with the Risen Jesus, they become pilgrims of hope, witnesses of the victory of love and of the disarmed power of Life.

He struggled greatly from following two intellectuals; lacking both St. John Paul II's philosophical ingenuity and Benedict XVI's theological erudition, and inclined on his own part to improvise his way through things, his tenure was often one of doctrinal controversy and he was often accused of at least speaking poorly and confusingly, and sometimes of at least material heresy. The improvising and lack of nicety, however, provably made him widely relatable and engaging, and while it was distressing to some, others found some relief in a pope who was, by his own account, willing to accept a great deal of mess.

He came into the papacy at a time when it was clear that there was need for extensive reform; poorly suited for the tedious practical work required, he relied heavily on others, and all too often seems to have found himself reduced to scolding or lecturing people without much effect. He was also notorious for being too quick to try to solve matters with scolding, and more than once, having scolded people for what he took to be their problems, he had to walk back his words. In many respects, his attempts in reform were failures, succeeding primarily only at a purely symbolic and cosmetic level. As I've said before, failure is the normal mode of being a pope; playing chess with the devil, a man will certainly lose, and all that a pope is really able to do is hold the office, restrain some things, encourage things, and pray, and let God draw from it whatever might be worthwhile. Francis was very far from being a great pope, but he was also not a disaster, and much of that, I think, is that he was active in prayer. Beyond that, it is God and not man who decides the ultimate result. Nonetheless, while not a disaster, much of the practical side of Francis's papacy has repeatedly broken down into incoherence, and I do not envy the pope who has to deal with inheriting it.

If Benedict's tenure struck me as often sad and lonely, Francis's has often struck me as one of frustration. An idealist by nature, he seems to have had great dreams, but he constantly failed to find any real cooperation with them, as his critics became more intractable and his allies often just used his ideas as cover for their own projects and interests. Many of the struggles of his papacy can safely be said not to be his fault; he inherited many tangled problems, an entrenched bureaucracy, and an increasingly unruly laity. It is an unpleasant task to be the one whose task is to get everybody on the same page at the moment they are becoming least inclined to listen. He actually dealt with this quite well -- one of his truly great strengths was his willingness to act, and sometimes ingenuity in acting, indirectly when needed, an important skill that historically has not  been common among popes -- but throughout his papacy, whenever he has let his guard down, he has always seemed frustrated. What seems constantly to have pushed him through was a genuine and sincere desire to do good to others; such a tenacity in seeking good for people in their actual lives is a precious thing, and we can only hope that we see something like it again in our lifetimes.

The Pillar has a good account of his life, as well as a summary of what can be expected in the days to come.

Shook the Foundations of Death

 In the hour that the wood of your cross was fastened, you shook the foundations of death, O Lord. And those whom Sheol had swallowed in their sins, it released while trembling -- your command quickened them, O Lord. Because of this, we also glorify you, O Christ the King: Have mercy on us!

[From the Basilica Hymn for Monday of the Week of Weeks and the Memorial of the Disciples of Emmaus, in The Book of Before and After: The Liturgy of the Hours of the Church of the East, Fr. Andrew Younan, ed. and tr., The Catholic University of America Press (Washington, DC: 2024), p. 505.]

Tree of Life

 Around the tomb, Mary cried "Have pity on me!" for she was remembering you who made her, instead of a dwelling of demons, a dwelling of your love. She had bought spices to perfume your precious Body, by which the scent of our mortal race was perfumed. "By your Resurrection, O Good Lord of the deceased, I beg you, O Tree of Life, who raised Adam who has been passed over, O Fruit that our race did not want to taste, my Savior, may the dew of your mercies sprinkle me!"

[From the Basilica Hymn for Resurrection Sunday, in The Book of Before and After: The Liturgy of the Hours of the Church of the East, Fr. Andrew Younan, ed. and tr., The Catholic University of America Press (Washington, DC: 2024), p. 501.]