Veronica Hears of the Condemnation

The three women covered themselves carefully, as the March air was still cold with a penetrating damp. Each brought along a basket, for this was the day to purchase necessary foods and wine for the solemn Passover feast. There was the customary anticipation in them, as they planned their celebration in the traditional way, recalling and reliving the truths they had been taught since they were children. At the same time they talked in awed tones of the new movement spreading throughout their community and the larger part of their world was a movement they believed in, but did not know was destined to change everything.

The women set off towards the teeming markets, across the cobbled stones in their sandals, headgear covering their faces. As they walked quickly to shield themselves from the chilling wind, the three began to experience feelings of unusual uneasiness as they proceeded through the crowded streets. The air, always pervaded by unpleasant odors, seemed today to be particularly heavy, almost suffocating. As they endeavored to approach the market stalls, they found themselves impeded by a steadily enlarging body of shoving, raucous people. Now, with considerable consternation, one asked the other, “What do you suppose is happening here today?” The other shook her head and shuddered, “I fear something terrible is going on.” In their world it was not unusual for altercations to break out between the various religious and political sects, though unsettling. The three women slipped in one of the wider doorways to catch their breath and there encountered another shopper. The woman had overheard their wondering remarks and asked them quietly, “Do you not know what has happened? Pilate has condemned the one they call Jesus to death. He is on his way to Calvary for crucifixion.”

The oldest of the three women reeled, leaned against the wall, dropping her basket in horror. The other two, their faces paling, were struggling to comprehend what was unbelievable to them, such appalling news. “Surely there must be some mistake,” said the youngest, as tears began to swell up in her eyes, “for this is Passover, and all was well when last we heard Him speak.” The other continued, “Only last weekend, was He not received with vast acclaim as He rode into Jerusalem on a donkey? There were thousands of people there, on both sides of the path, spreading palms before Him, bowing and praising Him. The oldest affirmed, “We indeed were witnesses to that amazing spectacle, and we saw how all the people were rendering Him heartfelt praise and homage. They respected Him as their true leader. Why, they loved Him. It is impossible now to believe what you are saying. How could this happen?” “I do not know”, the stranger responded, “but nevertheless it is true. Some are saying He is a rabble-rouser. Some accused Him of blasphemy because, they say, He called Himself the Son of God.” She shook her head. “Yet still others, many who have seen Him perform miracles beyond any human explanation, truly do believe He is the Son of God.”

She paused and hesitantly studied the three, all of whom were listening intently in their great distress. “My own sister, suffering from constant bleeding, an affliction before which the physicians were both baffled and helpless, decided in desperation to go last weekend to where she heard He would be passing. We tried to talk her out of it, in her weakened state, but she said to us, “”If I can but touch the hem of His garment, I will be healed.” The woman sighed in recollection, and continued, as her story, like so many like it, had captivated her audience. The crowd surrounding him that day was vast, as countless numbers were desperately seeking to be healed; others simply wanted to hear him speak. For who could hear His words without being struck to the core of our being? He spoke with such authority “we had never heard anything like Him before.” She wrapped her poor shawl around herself. “My sister braved the crowd, and managed to reach out as He passed and did, miraculously, touch his robe. Instantly, she felt a warmth course through her sick body, and knew she had been cured. He stopped the procession, turned His face to the crowds and asked, ‘Who has touched my cloak?’ His apostles remonstrated with him, that anyone of these multitudes could have touched him. My sister looked up in fear and trembling and said, ‘It was I, sir.’ He looked kindly at her, took her hand to help her to her feet, and said

Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” How could we not believe, after what we know happened to her? But these are strange times, are they not? Anyway, I am fearfully sorry to inform you that there is no hope for Him now. Pilate has washed his hands, in an attempt to proclaim his own innocence, for he himself did not believe the case they tried to make against Jesus — he, Pilate, the most powerful Roman, but in the end a craven coward. As she said this she looked around, fearful of witnesses to her remarks. “And look at that seething mob; always they lust for blood.”

Veronica Wipes the Face of Our Lord

The three women, no longer conscious or caring about their planned errands, thanked her, and began the retreat back to their homes, when one of them, the youngest, ever impetuous, stopped and asserted, “I must go and see for myself if this terrible story is true.” “You cannot go to that cruel road. You will be crushed by the crazed hordes, those who thrive on these brutal methods of killing.” “Even so,” she asserted, “I am going.” When they perceived that she could not be dissuaded they looked at each other, and said, “Then we are going with you.” She nodded gratefully, and they set out, feeling their way with nervous trepidation through the dismal and crepuscular streets to the area where they knew that poor souls destined for crucifixion would pass.

As they drew closer, the noise was deafening. They cut through an alley endeavoring to get nearer to the scene. The Condemned, they knew, was expected to pass through that very spot. Soldiers leading the walk to Calvary were already pushing bystanders roughly aside as they forged a path for the Man with the Cross. The crowds in their turn snarled at and resisted the soldiers, for even in their eagerness to watch the death process they hated these detestable symbols of Rome and its power. Now they could see other soldiers, prodding Jesus on with whips and scorn. From their location they saw Him as He fell, under the appalling weight of the Cross, to the unforgiving stones below. He lay on the ground, trying to gather his breath and his dwindling strength. The guards, experienced at this type of spectacle, began to fear that He would die before arriving at the crucifixion site on Golgotha, and thus escape the final ordeal. They turned, searched the crowd, and seized upon an unwilling bystander from the sidelines, shouting at him to pick up the end of the Cross and carry it. The stranger, by the name of Simon of Cyrene, tried in vain to resist, but the soldiers threatened him with their clubs, and thus he was obliged to take his place next to Jesus, sharing the infamous burden of the Cross.

From the slight elevation on the side of the roadway where the three women were standing, they were able to peer down and observe this exchange. They saw at once to their horror that this was the Christ, the same formerly triumphant figure, so bruised and battered His facial features were almost unrecognizable. The blood was streaming into His eyes from some kind of fixture attached to His head. They gasped, as they realized He was wearing a crown woven out of sharp thorns. His body was covered with wounds, the skin of His shoulder so worn off that the shoulder bone could be seen when His poor robe slipped. The soldiers continued to scream and curse and threatened the crowd with whips to stand back, then relentlessly turned their whips over and over against the back of the Condemned. The mob pushed and shoved and watched with rabid curiosity, as well as relief that someone Else was suffering that heinous death penalty.

Suddenly, Veronica began the descent to the road and tried to push forward in an effort to break a path through the leering, screaming mass. Again and again she struggled with the lines of sweating bodies, six or seven deep, determined to get to the suffering Man, as her friends watched with astonishment. The crowd pushed her back with indignation and yelled insults at her, but she persevered, undaunted, searching for an opening in the wall of bystanders. She was shoved from side to side, which only seemed to increase her intent and her momentum as she refused to abandon her quest. At length she broke through to the very edge of the rocky path, to find Jesus exactly opposite her. Her eyes streaming with tears, she looked at Him, so rejected and scorned now by all. Yet even in His pitiful state, his body a mass of blood and bruises, His eyes revealed to her His kingship. She knew instinctively that with a mere exercise of His will, He could throw them all in defeat to the ground if He desired. (Did He not say to the apostles in the Garden, at the time of his arrest, that even then he could entreat His Father who would furnish him with more than 12 legions of angels?) But He did not exercise that power, rather He submitted Himself to the trial before Him.

Before anyone knew what she was doing, Veronica ripped off the veil that covered her own head. She acted so quickly no one could exercise any effort to stop her. They were indeed shocked at the sight of this young, beautiful woman, who had removed the customary veil, unheard of — and thus revealed herself and masses of her long, dark curls. She extended her arms to Him. Then she gently wiped His entire face with her veil, clearing it of blood and dirt. The two gazed at each other for scarcely an instant. Not a word was exchanged. Time was standing still, it seemed, when suddenly she was yanked backward by one of the guards, who hurled curses at her and threw her heedlessly into the crowd. She plunged to the ground, seeking to avoid the murderous and trampling feet of the mob. The crowd began to move on, ignoring this foolhardy woman. Gradually the whole parade passed. Her two companions, searching in fear for her, finally found her on the side of the path, scratched and dirty. “I am all right,” she told them to ease their minds, “but my heart is broken.”

The Miraculous Image Appears

Before anyone knew what she was doing, Veronica ripped off the veil that covered her own head. She acted so quickly no one could exercise any effort to stop her. They were indeed shocked at the sight of this young, beautiful woman, who had removed the customary veil, unheard of — and thus revealed herself and masses of her long, dark curls. She extended her arms to Him. Then she gently wiped His entire face with her veil, clearing it of blood and dirt. The two gazed at each other for scarcely an instant. Not a word was exchanged. Time was standing still, it seemed, when suddenly she was yanked backward by one of the guards, who hurled curses at her and threw her heedlessly into the crowd. She plunged to the ground, seeking to avoid the murderous and trampling feet of the mob. The crowd began to move on, ignoring this foolhardy woman. Gradually the whole parade passed. Her two companions, searching in fear for her, finally found her on the side of the path, scratched and dirty. “I am all right”, she told them to ease their minds, “but my heart is broken.”

The three of them were beyond words at the horrible injustice they had witnessed of unimaginable torment being inflicted on this innocent Man. All three were crying tears of unbelief. They were not unfamiliar with suffering, but never in their lives had they felt such pain and regret, weighted even more by their absolute helplessness to do anything. “Come,” said one at last, “we must leave this terrible place.” They helped Veronica to her feet while she began to gather what she thought was her soiled veil tenderly to her breast in utter sorrow. The three looked at each other, silent in their misery, when all at once one of them stopped and stared at the veil with such intensity that Veronica turned to her, then slowly held the veil up and gazed at it in awe and wonder. For there on that length of cloth was imprinted the entire face of Christ, a perfect image of Him. It was an exquisite reproduction of the Christ, the Savior. For her extraordinary courage and love, He had endowed her with a truly miraculous gift, a lasting testimonial. It was as if He was still among them, that He did not leave them nor would He ever leave them. They stood there, contemplating the suffering yet loving face of Jesus. Then, as the day had mysteriously begun to darken, they began the sorrowful walk home to pray.

Jesus also encountered his Holy Mother on his walk as a condemned man up to Calvary. She would not depart from Him. While she understood that the price to be paid by her only Son was the Father’s will, was it not by the Mother’s prayers that Simon was brought forward to help Him carry the Cross? Was it not Mary’s prayers that someone should wipe her Son’s face? Was it not her prayers that called forth the Holy Women to console Him? Besides Veronica, he would try to console the pious women who had believed and followed Him, now crying bitter tears at his suffering. To them he spoke this admonition, “Weep not for me but for your children, because if this is what they do when the wood is green, what will they do when the wood is dry?” We should not be too hard on Simon for his reluctance to carry the Cross with Christ, for which of us is willing to carry our own crosses? A task that is repugnant to Simon at the beginning alters as he walks beside the Savior; He Who left his image on a linen cloth leaves an indelible mark on the soul of Simon. Fifteen hundred years later, Mary would leave her image on a cloth at Guadalupe. She would never leave us.

What of the disciples, the closest to the Messiah? Judas had hung himself on a tree, overcome with guilt at his betrayal of the Savior, the innocent Jesus, devoid of hope for forgiveness. Peter, following his denial of Christ, was now in near despair as he contemplated the gravity of his sin — a repentance legend has it that caused so many tears through the course of his life they wore a path down his cheeks. He would, at his own martyrdom, instruct his executioners to turn him upside down on the cross because, “I am not worthy to die as He.” The rest of the apostles and disciples, with the exception of John, fled the scene in terror. Only John, the beloved disciple, he who rested his head on the breast of Jesus at the Last Supper, would stay with his Lord up to Calvary and with Mary, the holy Mother of Jesus, remain at the Cross. He would, history has recorded, be the only one of the apostles who would not die a martyr.

The veil was to become an icon, a source of deep reverence among the early Christians, and was preserved through succeeding generations. It was the first, the only image of the Christ. Veronica’s own name would be passed on as awed accounts were repeated of that day and of her steadfast devotion and heroism, a legendary saint, who was unyielding to fear or intimidation in her desire to do something to help her suffering Lord. Not much more is known about Veronica, and her action that day is not reported in the gospels. Yet she has traditionally been honored by the Church as the one chosen at her own conception by Divine Providence for the solitary privilege of wiping the face of the Messiah. In every Catholic Church in the world, the sixth station of the 14 Stations of the Cross is the image of the tender and loving Veronica extending her arms to Jesus. The original veil has, incredibly, been preserved over the years, and is in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

Pondering those events, we cannot help but ask ourselves where would each of us have been standing on that frightful day when the world would put to death the very Son of God? We recall that Christ Himself cautioned us, “Pray you are not put to the test.”

End

Ave Maria!

Prayer Honoring Christ The King

Jesus, you are my highest Authority.
Jesus, you are my most beloved King.
Jesus, you are my most holy and just Judge.
Jesus, you are my merciful Savior.
Jesus, you are my most worthy Priest.
Jesus, you are my risen and blessed Lord.

Jesus, you are my mighty Warrior.
Jesus, you are my enduring Peace.
Jesus, you are my Eternal Shepherd.
Jesus, you are my precious Lamb.

Jesus, you are my perfect Word.
Jesus, you are my resplendent Truth.
Jesus, you are my purest Love.
Jesus, you are my only Reality.
Jesus, you are my ineffable Beauty.
Jesus, you are my epitome of Order.

Jesus, you are my Divine Physician.
If I can but touch the hem of your garment,
Your holy sandal, or the edge of your Cross,
I shall be healed.

Jesus, you are truly I AM, and I love you
With my whole heart, mind and spirit.
I love you and cherish you more than my own life.
All that you have entrusted to me I surrender to thee
To be disposed of according to thy Holy Will.
To you do I render my memory, my will, my understanding.
My greatest fear is ever to be separated from Thee.
With the loving prayers of Mary, your most glorious Mother, and
Joseph, your most benevolent Father
May I be with you living and in eternal life.

This article is being presented in three parts over three consecutive days.

Part 3 – The Miraculous Image Appears

Before anyone knew what she was doing, Veronica ripped off the veil that covered her own head. She acted so quickly no one could exercise any effort to stop her. They were indeed shocked at the sight of this young, beautiful woman, who had removed the customary veil, unheard of — and thus revealed herself and masses of her long, dark curls. She extended her arms to Him. Then she gently wiped His entire face with her veil, clearing it of blood and dirt. The two gazed at each other for scarcely an instant. Not a word was exchanged. Time was standing still, it seemed, when suddenly she was yanked backward by one of the guards, who hurled curses at her and threw her heedlessly into the crowd. She plunged to the ground, seeking to avoid the murderous and trampling feet of the mob. The crowd began to move on, ignoring this foolhardy woman. Gradually the whole parade passed. Her two companions, searching in fear for her, finally found her on the side of the path, scratched and dirty. “I am all right”, she told them to ease their minds, “but my heart is broken.”

The three of them were beyond words at the horrible injustice they had witnessed of unimaginable torment being inflicted on this innocent Man. All three were crying tears of unbelief. They were not unfamiliar with suffering, but never in their lives had they felt such pain and regret, weighted even more by their absolute helplessness to do anything. “Come,” said one at last, “we must leave this terrible place.” They helped Veronica to her feet while she began to gather what she thought was her soiled veil tenderly to her breast in utter sorrow. The three looked at each other, silent in their misery, when all at once one of them stopped and stared at the veil with such intensity that Veronica turned to her, then slowly held the veil up and gazed at it in awe and wonder. For there on that length of cloth was imprinted the entire face of Christ, a perfect image of Him. It was an exquisite reproduction of the Christ, the Savior. For her extraordinary courage and love, He had endowed her with a truly miraculous gift, a lasting testimonial. It was as if He was still among them, that He did not leave them nor would He ever leave them. They stood there, contemplating the suffering yet loving face of Jesus. Then, as the day had mysteriously begun to darken, they began the sorrowful walk home to pray.

Jesus also encountered his Holy Mother on his walk as a condemned man up to Calvary. She would not depart from Him. While she understood that the price to be paid by her only Son was the Father’s will, was it not by the Mother’s prayers that Simon was brought forward to help Him carry the Cross? Was it not Mary’s prayers that someone should wipe her Son’s face? Was it not her prayers that called forth the Holy Women to console Him? Besides Veronica, he would try to console the pious women who had believed and followed Him, now crying bitter tears at his suffering. To them he spoke this admonition, “Weep not for me but for your children, because if this is what they do when the wood is green, what will they do when the wood is dry?” We should not be too hard on Simon for his reluctance to carry the Cross with Christ, for which of us is willing to carry our own crosses? A task that is repugnant to Simon at the beginning alters as he walks beside the Savior; He Who left his image on a linen cloth leaves an indelible mark on the soul of Simon. Fifteen hundred years later, Mary would leave her image on a cloth at Guadalupe. She would never leave us.

What of the disciples, the closest to the Messiah? Judas had hung himself on a tree, overcome with guilt at his betrayal of the Savior, the innocent Jesus, devoid of hope for forgiveness. Peter, following his denial of Christ, was now in near despair as he contemplated the gravity of his sin — a repentance legend has it that caused so many tears through the course of his life they wore a path down his cheeks. He would, at his own martyrdom, instruct his executioners to turn him upside down on the cross because, “I am not worthy to die as He.” The rest of the apostles and disciples, with the exception of John, fled the scene in terror. Only John, the beloved disciple, he who rested his head on the breast of Jesus at the Last Supper, would stay with his Lord up to Calvary and with Mary, the holy Mother of Jesus, remain at the Cross. He would, history has recorded, be the only one of the apostles who would not die a martyr.

The veil was to become an icon, a source of deep reverence among the early Christians, and was preserved through succeeding generations. It was the first, the only image of the Christ. Veronica’s own name would be passed on as awed accounts were repeated of that day and of her steadfast devotion and heroism, a legendary saint, who was unyielding to fear or intimidation in her desire to do something to help her suffering Lord. Not much more is known about Veronica, and her action that day is not reported in the gospels. Yet she has traditionally been honored by the Church as the one chosen at her own conception by Divine Providence for the solitary privilege of wiping the face of the Messiah. In every Catholic Church in the world, the sixth station of the 14 Stations of the Cross is the image of the tender and loving Veronica extending her arms to Jesus. The original veil has, incredibly, been preserved over the years, and is in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

Pondering those events, we cannot help but ask ourselves where would each of us have been standing on that frightful day when the world would put to death the very Son of God? We recall that Christ Himself cautioned us, “Pray you are not put to the test.”

End

Ave Maria!

This article is being presented in three parts over three consecutive days.

Part 2 – Veronica Wipes the Face of Our Lord

The three women, no longer conscious or caring about their planned errands, thanked her, and began the retreat back to their homes, when one of them, the youngest, ever impetuous, stopped and asserted, “I must go and see for myself if this terrible story is true.” “You cannot go to that cruel road. You will be crushed by the crazed hordes, those who thrive on these brutal methods of killing.” “Even so,” she asserted, “I am going.” When they perceived that she could not be dissuaded they looked at each other, and said, “Then we are going with you.” She nodded gratefully, and they set out, feeling their way with nervous trepidation through the dismal and crepuscular streets to the area where they knew that poor souls destined for crucifixion would pass.

As they drew closer, the noise was deafening. They cut through an alley endeavoring to get nearer to the scene. The Condemned, they knew, was expected to pass through that very spot. Soldiers leading the walk to Calvary were already pushing bystanders roughly aside as they forged a path for the Man with the Cross. The crowds in their turn snarled at and resisted the soldiers, for even in their eagerness to watch the death process they hated these detestable symbols of Rome and its power. Now they could see other soldiers, prodding Jesus on with whips and scorn. From their location they saw Him as He fell, under the appalling weight of the Cross, to the unforgiving stones below. He lay on the ground, trying to gather his breath and his dwindling strength. The guards, experienced at this type of spectacle, began to fear that He would die before arriving at the crucifixion site on Golgotha, and thus escape the final ordeal. They turned, searched the crowd, and seized upon an unwilling bystander from the sidelines, shouting at him to pick up the end of the Cross and carry it. The stranger, by the name of Simon of Cyrene, tried in vain to resist, but the soldiers threatened him with their clubs, and thus he was obliged to take his place next to Jesus, sharing the infamous burden of the Cross.

From the slight elevation on the side of the roadway where the three women were standing, they were able to peer down and observe this exchange. They saw at once to their horror that this was the Christ, the same formerly triumphant figure, so bruised and battered His facial features were almost unrecognizable. The blood was streaming into His eyes from some kind of fixture attached to His head. They gasped, as they realized He was wearing a crown woven out of sharp thorns. His body was covered with wounds, the skin of His shoulder so worn off that the shoulder bone could be seen when His poor robe slipped. The soldiers continued to scream and curse and threatened the crowd with whips to stand back, then relentlessly turned their whips over and over against the back of the Condemned. The mob pushed and shoved and watched with rabid curiosity, as well as relief that someone Else was suffering that heinous death penalty.

Suddenly, Veronica began the descent to the road and tried to push forward in an effort to break a path through the leering, screaming mass. Again and again she struggled with the lines of sweating bodies, six or seven deep, determined to get to the suffering Man, as her friends watched with astonishment. The crowd pushed her back with indignation and yelled insults at her, but she persevered, undaunted, searching for an opening in the wall of bystanders. She was shoved from side to side, which only seemed to increase her intent and her momentum as she refused to abandon her quest. At length she broke through to the very edge of the rocky path, to find Jesus exactly opposite her. Her eyes streaming with tears, she looked at Him, so rejected and scorned now by all. Yet even in His pitiful state, his body a mass of blood and bruises, His eyes revealed to her His kingship. She knew instinctively that with a mere exercise of His will, He could throw them all in defeat to the ground if He desired. (Did He not say to the apostles in the Garden, at the time of his arrest, that even then he could entreat His Father who would furnish him with more than 12 legions of angels?) But He did not exercise that power, rather He submitted Himself to the trial before Him.

Before anyone knew what she was doing, Veronica ripped off the veil that covered her own head. She acted so quickly no one could exercise any effort to stop her. They were indeed shocked at the sight of this young, beautiful woman, who had removed the customary veil, unheard of — and thus revealed herself and masses of her long, dark curls. She extended her arms to Him. Then she gently wiped His entire face with her veil, clearing it of blood and dirt. The two gazed at each other for scarcely an instant. Not a word was exchanged. Time was standing still, it seemed, when suddenly she was yanked backward by one of the guards, who hurled curses at her and threw her heedlessly into the crowd. She plunged to the ground, seeking to avoid the murderous and trampling feet of the mob. The crowd began to move on, ignoring this foolhardy woman. Gradually the whole parade passed. Her two companions, searching in fear for her, finally found her on the side of the path, scratched and dirty. “I am all right,” she told them to ease their minds, “but my heart is broken.”

Continued Tomorrow in Part 3

Ave Maria!

This article will be presented in three parts in three consecutive days.

Part 1 – Veronica Hears of the Condemnation

The three women covered themselves carefully, as the March air was still cold with a penetrating damp. Each brought along a basket, for this was the day to purchase necessary foods and wine for the solemn Passover feast. There was the customary anticipation in them, as they planned their celebration in the traditional way, recalling and reliving the truths they had been taught since they were children. At the same time they talked in awed tones of the new movement spreading throughout their community and the larger part of their world was a movement they believed in, but did not know was destined to change everything.

The women set off towards the teeming markets, across the cobbled stones in their sandals, headgear covering their faces. As they walked quickly to shield themselves from the chilling wind, the three began to experience feelings of unusual uneasiness as they proceeded through the crowded streets. The air, always pervaded by unpleasant odors, seemed today to be particularly heavy, almost suffocating. As they endeavored to approach the market stalls, they found themselves impeded by a steadily enlarging body of shoving, raucous people. Now, with considerable consternation, one asked the other, “What do you suppose is happening here today?” The other shook her head and shuddered, “I fear something terrible is going on.” In their world it was not unusual for altercations to break out between the various religious and political sects, though unsettling. The three women slipped in one of the wider doorways to catch their breath and there encountered another shopper. The woman had overheard their wondering remarks and asked them quietly, “Do you not know what has happened? Pilate has condemned the one they call Jesus to death. He is on his way to Calvary for crucifixion.”

The oldest of the three women reeled, leaned against the wall, dropping her basket in horror. The other two, their faces paling, were struggling to comprehend what was unbelievable to them, such appalling news. “Surely there must be some mistake,” said the youngest, as tears began to swell up in her eyes, “for this is Passover, and all was well when last we heard Him speak.” The other continued, “Only last weekend, was He not received with vast acclaim as He rode into Jerusalem on a donkey? There were thousands of people there, on both sides of the path, spreading palms before Him, bowing and praising Him. The oldest affirmed, “We indeed were witnesses to that amazing spectacle, and we saw how all the people were rendering Him heartfelt praise and homage. They respected Him as their true leader. Why, they loved Him. It is impossible now to believe what you are saying. How could this happen?” “I do not know”, the stranger responded, “but nevertheless it is true. Some are saying He is a rabble-rouser. Some accused Him of blasphemy because, they say, He called Himself the Son of God.” She shook her head. “Yet still others, many who have seen Him perform miracles beyond any human explanation, truly do believe He is the Son of God.”

She paused and hesitantly studied the three, all of whom were listening intently in their great distress. “My own sister, suffering from constant bleeding, an affliction before which the physicians were both baffled and helpless, decided in desperation to go last weekend to where she heard He would be passing. We tried to talk her out of it, in her weakened state, but she said to us, “”If I can but touch the hem of His garment, I will be healed.” The woman sighed in recollection, and continued, as her story, like so many like it, had captivated her audience. The crowd surrounding him that day was vast, as countless numbers were desperately seeking to be healed; others simply wanted to hear him speak. For who could hear His words without being struck to the core of our being? He spoke with such authority “we had never heard anything like Him before.” She wrapped her poor shawl around herself. “My sister braved the crowd, and managed to reach out as He passed and did, miraculously, touch his robe. Instantly, she felt a warmth course through her sick body, and knew she had been cured. He stopped the procession, turned His face to the crowds and asked, ‘Who has touched my cloak?’ His apostles remonstrated with him, that anyone of these multitudes could have touched him. My sister looked up in fear and trembling and said, ‘It was I, sir.’ He looked kindly at her, took her hand to help her to her feet, and said

Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” How could we not believe, after what we know happened to her? But these are strange times, are they not? Anyway, I am fearfully sorry to inform you that there is no hope for Him now. Pilate has washed his hands, in an attempt to proclaim his own innocence, for he himself did not believe the case they tried to make against Jesus — he, Pilate, the most powerful Roman, but in the end a craven coward. As she said this she looked around, fearful of witnesses to her remarks. “And look at that seething mob; always they lust for blood.”

Continued tomorrow in Part 2

Ave Maria!

This prayer was from my mother’s family, taught to her by her father, and other antecedents, I feel sure.

- Hilda

Prayer to St. Joseph

March 19, 2009

Glorious St. Joseph,
Beloved foster father of Jesus,
Beloved spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary,
Holy Patron of the universal church,
I choose thee this day to be my special patron,
Master and conductor of my honor and property,
my life and my death.
Please grant to me the inestimable privilege of
living and dying, like thee,
In the love of Jesus and Mary. Amen.

+++

Prayer Honoring Christ The King

Jesus, you are my highest Authority.
Jesus, you are my most beloved King.
Jesus, you are my most holy and just Judge.
Jesus, you are my merciful Savior.
Jesus, you are my most worthy Priest.
Jesus, you are my risen and blessed Lord.
Jesus, you are my mighty Warrior.
Jesus, you are my enduring Peace.
Jesus, you are my Eternal Shepherd.
Jesus, you are my precious Lamb.
Jesus, you are my perfect Word.
Jesus, you are my resplendent Truth.

Jesus, you are my purest Love.
Jesus, you are my most gracious Giver.
Jesus, you are my only Reality.
Jesus, you are my ineffable Beauty.
Jesus, you are my epitome of Order.

Jesus, you are my Divine Physician.
If I can but touch the hem of Your
Garment, your holy sandal,
Or the edge of your Cross, I shall be healed.
In mind, body and in spirit.

Jesus, you are truly I AM, and I love thee
And cherish thee more than my own life.
All that you have entrusted to me I surrender to thee
To be disposed of according to thy Holy Will.
To thee I do render my memory, my will,
My understanding.

Of all the fears of human life, my greatest fear
Is ever to be separated from Thee.
With confidence in Mary, your most Beloved Mother,
And Joseph, your most Benevolent Father,
May I be with you now and forever.

IVF:? Part Three

(Part Two here)

“The Lord called me from birth:
from my mother’s womb
he gave me my name.”? (Isaiah 49: 1-6)

What’s the big deal? Have we not advanced to the point of making babies in lab dishes, so everyone can be a proud parent? I recall reading one woman’s indignation, demanding to know why the Pope did not want her to have a baby. You know some alert theologian could have jumped in at that time and presented the rock-bottom truth of our faith that, evil may not be done, even to secure some perceived good.

Some physicians have, as noted above, ethical concerns about all of this and have decided not to implant more than four embryos. This would supposedly reduce the risk of having to abort so many. “Four is the limit recommended by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine for women aged 35 to 40, although it will accept five for women older than that.”[i] Other doctors wonder if the woman has the right to expose babies in multiple pregnancies to future medical problems (and the studies continue to mount from all over the world about fetal abnormalities from IVF: birth defects, mental retardation, behavior disorders, etc.) What a high degree of “ethics” by the society above – don’t kill more than four! As opposed to “moral”, “ethical” is a nice semantic term you can take all over the place. Others express “distaste” about “reducing;” read that: uneasy.

How in the world did we get here? We got here because God’s authority continues to be completely rejected. There is societal indifference to what goes on, a disinterest in anything which does not directly affect me and my lifestyle. Is IVF more nuclear fall-out from abortion? That is one answer but incomplete; it is not the whole story. The key element was synthetic birth prevention. And, contrary to the ardent feminist denial of the facts, from the outset abortion became “backup contraception”. I remember the 60′s. I remember the triumph when the birth control pill was introduced to the world. The “women’s liberation” movement’s first plank then and now is equality is impossible without abortion. With the pill, they were jubilant. The pill would release forever a woman’s responsibility for the conception and nurturing of offspring.

Once procreation was separated from the conjugal act, the whole bowl of wax began to unfold. Pandora’s Box was shattered, freeing the evils that would bedevil mankind. Late-term pregnancy abortions gradually were accepted and are now de rigueur in certain clinics. With IVF we have arrived in contemporary America and the new world order at, to name a few: “make your own baby”, including “fetal reduction,” delayed motherhood, surrogate mothering, embryo transfer (moved embryo from one women to another), storage problems of half a million frozen embryos (90% of which do not survive their ice age,) “extra” embryos to be harvested as extra body parts; insurance coverage in many states; support groups for mothers who reduce; designer children; sex selection of children (banned in some countries;) “money-back” guarantees (frowned on by some meds); recruiters on college campuses for eggs/sperm donors (some provide photos of donors’ eyes, ears, etc., not to omit glowing intellectual and medical histories;) anonymous (drive-by) sperm donors; sperm banks; egg banks; egg donor ads, running regularly in daily newspapers, and on the Internet (“Apply on line to become an egg donor.”); the Yellow Pages; donor marketing agencies; serious medical complications from “hyper-stimulation” of ovaries to secure eggs; screening of embryos to avoid genetic hazards; cloning; cloning of human beings with other species, and on and on ad infinitum. By the by, “donors” are usually paid handsomely for selling their bodily wares. Some profess to do this for altruistic motives, to assist the childless. However, the very real probability that embryos will die or be eliminated makes that assertion of nobility something of an oxymoron.

Less I be accused of exaggeration, the above are facts gleaned from an enormous supply of material on the whole subject of IVF. At one library I pulled up relevant book lists; there were 39 under the heading of IVF. The internet is endless in its offerings of such material. Newspapers, journals are getting into this curious and controversial story, so fraught with extremes – sensationalism at its most provocative. A sub-plot showed up recently on the television series E.R., when several children gathered to meet their slightly abashed doctor “father”. Some of the “diaries,” books/journals describing a woman’s complete IVF experience, are often crude, discouraging the reader from pursuing the story line. To draw quotes from these would render their authors more attention.

Crudity is so common in our country we barely notice the daily bombardment and degradation. Subjects unmentionable are discussed casually on television at any hour. Disrobing has become an art form. In a doctor’s office recently, I saw the image of a full-term, pregnant, nude woman displayed on the cover of Newsweek (12/10/07). It was so blatantly bad–this image, casually available on the clinic coffee table. Such presentations utterly deprive women of any dignity whatsoever, pregnancy a public exposure of the most prurient type. There will be no reaction from our jaded culture. (Some maternity stores this season were displaying scanty bathing suits for advanced pregnancy.) To the more morally alert, it is just one more outrage, an execrable example of depraved media. It reminds you of the judge in the parable who “respected neither God nor man.” The result: We are all stricken with some kind of mental paralysis as we try to go about living in trendy America. We are numb. This is a kind of protective shield. How many shocks a day can an individual stand? We can’t – we don’t — ask anymore, what is next? There is no refuge to escape the panoply.

After spending several weeks on this essay, and reading more about IVF and affiliated horrors than I imagined at the beginning, I have come to the conclusion expressed well by Judy Brown of American Life League, the entire process must be outlawed, by legislatures, and if there is any dignity, integrity left in our courts, there too. We have created a monster, fulfilling what Pope Benedict anticipated and feared when he wrote Donum Vitae. Thank God, the church is always ahead of the movement of societal cultures – The gift to us Roman Catholics as well as to the world. On February 1, 2008, Pope Benedict said the following: “When human beings in the weakest and most defenseless state of their existence are selected, aborted, killed or used as pure ?biological material,’ how can it be denied that they are no longer… ?someone but something.’”[ii] This is food for thought in our over-hurried world – a world according to John Paul II with an over emphasis on “efficiency.”

[iii] reported an internet site which

Donor Sibling Registry Logo

Where are we going? What is next? The Fort Worth Star Telegram “connects children born from the same eggs or sperm.” In other words, the searcher endeavors to learn how many half-brothers and sisters he has out there somewhere – and their common sperm donor. A “Donor Sibling Registry” was established in 2000; about 19,000 people posted personal details; About 4,700 matches were found. People, the article tells us, are startled by the looks of strange children at the park sand lot, who look so much like their own child. In one search it was discovered that a single donor had sired more than 100 kids. I leave it to the imagination of the reader to follow this news into the future… Obviously there is a yawning distance between adopting a newborn infant, and utilizing an anonymous egg/sperm. As Abraham responded to the rich man seeking help from the poor Lazarus, between us there is a great chasm, so that we cannot cross over to your side.

In the last few months I have been removing stones from one of the flower gardens here in New England – stones tossed there by the builder, which prevent any flowers from taking real root. There are also roots to detach. It is hard work, though satisfying, but not complete because new dirt has to be inserted in the gaping holes. It reminds me of the indescribable lies, distortions and omissions thrown at our whole culture, the evils now so pronounced as to make it impossible for most to accept the truth about God and life. The garden is full of rocks, with long-running roots. It has been made infertile and must be cleansed and then replanted. Christ warned us that once evil is dismissed, care must be taken lest new and worse devils enter in. What is next?

The paucity of truth! What is it? “I AM the way, the truth and the life” says the Lord. American Heritage defines truth as “conformity to knowledge, fact or actuality; veracity.” The media appears to define truth through interviews (e.g., opinion); varied reports from random sources and those which are politically correct. Thus the opportunity for truth has been circumscribed. As evidenced by the prominence of IVF acceptance, the anti-Christ forces are masters of distortion. Dr. Leon Kass describes present day scientism as “soul-less”, which he says is an effort to reduce all questions of human life to the “purely material.”[iv]

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

[ii] Life Site News: from Catholic Online International News

[iii] Fort Worth Star Telegram, 3/23/08

[iv] Life Site News; 11/7/07, from a Manhattan Institute lecture

IVF – Part Two

(Part One here)

“Do not be afraid
of those who kill the body
but cannot kill the soul…“? (Matthew: 10, 26-33)

It was in driving my car one day when I heard from the radio for the first time the words “fetal reduction.”? Wait a minute, what was that, that new phrase?? What did that mean?? I learned that it was designed in order to present lethal consequences to excess human embryos cultivated in vitro (which means, literally, in glass).? The process of IVF frequently results in making one multiply pregnant.? This is one of the most egregiously bad (and anticipated) consequences of the process.

Enter the doctor.? He describes at length the dangers to the mother with all of those growing babies if she continues to carry them.? He then projects hazards to the baby.? The suggestion is made that she “reduce” the pregnancy.? ?Exactly how do you reduce a pregnancy? ?Referred to as “fetal reduction” or “pregnancy reduction, or “selective reduction” by the doctors, the words are deadly masks to the uninformed.?? They are euphemisms for what is a pitiless procedure, as “choice” has been universally substituted for the word abortion.? Such babies are called “waste” babies, or “excess” babies, or “surplus” babies.? Doctors do not refer to the IVF process as abortion, but rather routinely use the word “reduction”, which is now standard language in the U.S. ?This, in my view, provides a shield over what really is happening.

Even so, it seems obvious that the determination to march to pregnancy proceeds, regardless of the potentiality of such a quagmire the mother now finds herself in, in spite of the ugly probability of “reduction.” “The whole business should have been short-circuited at the outset.? After all, the embryos are all her children!?? Some practitioners have in fact expressed concern that the parents should/must be informed of all the difficulties involved, physical, financial, and, yes, “ethical.”? (They came to this, no doubt, because of witnessing the subsequent trauma of participants.)? But are the facts good for business??

Does the mother – does the father – want to know the IVF details?? Truth is edifying; it also compels respect.? The process requires psychological metamorphosis on the part of the mother:? from frantically desiring one’s own child to destroying one’s own child for the sake of efficiency.? The Wall Street Journal referred to the new embryo as a “potential child” and notes that the decision to dispatch one or more of their own sons and daughters can require “intense soul-searching.” [i] Do I need to remind the reader that both living and condemned to death embryos have immortal souls, unique and beloved by God, the Creator, the author of all human life; yes, they are still babies.

But, societal culture has gradually learned to live side by side with abortion-on-demand up to and including the ninth month of pregnancy.? (No-the ban on partial birth abortions will not save one baby. “Abortionists simply moved to another macabre method of killing close-to-birth children.)? I pause here to mention that when this whole “my body, myself” mess began in the 1970′s feminists accused pro-life defenders of paranoia when we talked about the future and the slippery slope to late term abortions.? They asserted with considerable indignation they would never do such a thing!? What do you think we are? etc. etc.

Reduce — from six to three; from four to two; even from two to one.? We are talking about the meltdown of one’s own sons and daughters!? Most of these reductions are of twins or triplets, who, if allowed to live will do fine.? The Wall Street Journal describes the process as follows:? By means of the sonogram, the doctor examines the babies carefully to determine if there are defects of any kind.? (Comment: It makes it ever so much easier for the parents when the baby is not “perfect.”)? When nothing is found to be wrong with any of the fetuses, it becomes a question of “which is easiest to get to.”? The doctor drives a needle with potassium chloride into the chest of the babies to be discarded. ?”The fetus flails its arms and legs, then stops.”[ii] The woman gets off the table and goes home, anticipating the birth of the lucky survivor(s).? A few wipe a tear from their eye.?? Some cry.? But they do it anyway.? After all, they have viewed the babies on the sonograms.

Clinics appear to have extensive regulations regarding clean clinics, personnel, records, procedures, but not regarding the numbers of embryos to be implanted.? In an OP Ed column in the Washington Post (7/7/06), Michael Kinsley wrote that “if embryos are human beings with full human rights, fertility clinics are death camps – with a side order of cold-blooded eugenics.” [iii] As Kinsley put it, the process selects the best and destroys the rest.

Suppose you kill some, implant others, and they all die?? Now what do you do?? By the way, fertility drugs also produce multiple pregnancies.? All of this, as Cardinal (now Pope) Ratzinger stated in 1987 is part of the “unforeseeable circumstances.”? The Roman Catholic Church is always on to and ahead of the evil.? One woman gave birth to triplets, reduced by 3, “because there was no way we were going to fit six babies into our car – the logistics of the thing hit me.” [iv]

So goes contemporary childbearing.? One wonders how reducing mothers intend to explain the circumstances of these births and deaths to their children later in life.? Another generation might be aghast at what we have become.? Pope John Paul II wrote that we are in “an extremely dangerous crisis of the moral sense, which is becoming more and more incapable of distinguishing between good and evil, even when the fundamental right to life is at stake.” [v] That same Pope stated emphatically that “The power to decide what is good and what is evil does not belong to man, but to God alone.” [vi] We certainly have one colossal mess on our hands, and we have made considerable progress on the slippery slope when you consider IVF and its consequences.

[ii] Ibid

[iii] Life Site News: 7/21/06;? columnist Michael Kinsley on IVF clinics

[iv] Wall Street Journal, ibid

[v] Gospel of Life, encyclical, 1995

[vi] Veritatis Splendor, encyclical, 1993, #35

IVF Part 1: “We are the offspring of God..” (Acts: 17:29)

Fyodor Dostoevsky, as I recall, once wrote people are secretly gladdened at news of tragedies which take large numbers of human lives.? Such a thought would be shocking to contemplate were it not for the almost universal, preoccupation by population planners in our world to systematically control the numbers being born, by any method of prevention, no matter how repugnant.? The success of this objective has been positively mind-numbing. In the United States alone we are responsible for over 50 million, surgically dispatched babies.? (This does not include countless babies erased by various methods of contraception.)? To pro-life people such statistics are detestable — bald, horrifying abortion numbers–numbers ever so carefully tallied. To us, each singular abortion is a tragedy. ?This mental framework emanates from a society that boasts of what civilized progress we have made over earlier generations.? (The dimensions of birth reduction, worldwide, are factually reported in Mark Steyn’s excellent book, “America Alone.”)

In a rather short period of time we have progressed to a brand new brand of statistic, of 5.7 million embryonic children, who have died as a result of In Vitro Fertilization.[i] Eighty-five percent of transferred embryos (to mother’s womb) do not survive until birth. [ii] The Center for Disease Control reports that in 1999 there were 170,000 embryo deaths; that year, 21,501 (ART) children were born.? Approximately 74% of ART methods are by IVF.[iii] (Note: ART stands for “Assisted Reproductive Technology) Furthermore, over 400,000 human embryos are frozen in the U.S. alone.[iv] Thus we have developed a new form of life extinction — one that is predicted to lead to “screening” of human embryos for genetic disorders. ?This would be the ultimate in refined killing.

A little background of this movement: there has been a significant shift from artificial insemination methods of child conception to IVF.? Since about 1978 the numbers of IVF babies has shown a startling increase.? In addition to the hospitals involved in this substitute for God-ordained procreative unity, since 2005, about 430 clinics are operating fertility/IVF centers in the U.S. [v] (It should be noted that such numbers change constantly; not all information is reported to the CDC.)

The thing is you have to be wanted before you can join the human family.? This is a hard case to make when you’re that small.? Abortion is about unwanted babies, considered by their own mothers and fathers to be enemies to their welfare in one way or another.? It is remarkable the number of people who believe that babies are unwelcome impediments on the path to their societal well being.? It is reported that Isaac Asinov voiced his opinion that, after all, “Babies are the enemies of the human race.” [vi] One of my most respected mentors used to comment that feminists have never forgiven God for making women susceptible to pregnancy.? Feminist Jeffner Allen boasted “I am endangered by motherhood.? In evacuation from motherhood I claim my life, body, world, as an end in itself!” [vii]

Fast forward to the other hand, and the subject of this essay, where there is a whole slew of women who very much want to have a baby, who have tried varied paths to conception, professing their desperation to conceive a child.?? This becomes their preoccupation, as conception remains out of their reach.? Infertility is a very serious problem for about 6 million sterile couples, the causes of which are manifold, including physical abnormalities and disease.? And, “The most common cause of infertility in a woman is damaged or blocked fallopian tubes that prevent the egg and sperm from uniting.? Sexually transmitted diseases are a major cause of tubal scarring and blockage.”[viii] Whatever the cause of infertility, there is no denying that deep rooted, God-endowed longing to have, to nurture and to raise a child.? It should be noted, however, that this worthy intention is frequently manifested later in life, after meticulous methods have been utilized to ensure babies do not appear, to a time when she/they are ready.?? The house is there; the career in place, but the biological clock continues to tick.? Minds change over the years.?? Whatever preceded the decision for such troubled women to determinedly pursue conception of a child, this effort is about what is close to home, to the families therein, and the literal crying need of so many women to populate their own homes.

At the outset we need to assert that no one has a right to a child.? Children are a gift from the Lord, the Creator of all human life.? “A true and proper right to a child would be contrary to the child’s dignity and nature.? The child is not an object to which one has a right, nor can he be considered as an object of ownership: rather, a child is a gift, ?the supreme gift’ and the most gratuitous gift of marriage, and is a living testimony of the mutual giving of his parents.” [ix] In this ever so materialistic culture, it is not difficult to see how children can be regarded as possessions, to be gathered or discarded at will.? The other quotable quote that fits this discussion is from my own esteemed mother. “Children are only on loan to you from God.”? Her own children, on loan, numbered 12.

What is IVF? In Vitro Fertilization begins by hormone treatments to the woman.? These drugs force her ovaries to produce more than one egg at a time (referred to as “super-ovulation.”)? This is not good for the woman’s reproductive system, which is designed to produce one or two mature eggs a month.? Moving right along, the eggs are collected, and then combined with the sperm in a Petri dish.? (Yes, human embryos can now be “created” in test tubes.)? Sperm must, of course, be “secured” for this process.? “These tiny new humans are carefully nourished in lab cultures and then placed in the woman’s body with the anticipation that at least one of the embryos will implant in the uterus and develop. [x]

Donum Vitae cautions us that mankind has developed “new powers, with unforeseeable consequences, over human life, its very beginning, and in its first stages.? Various procedures now make it possible to intervene not only in order to assist but also to dominate the processes of procreation.” [xi] This very controversial process of IVF and ET (embryo transfer) “is brought about outside the bodies of the couple through actions of third parties whose competence and technical activity determine the success of the procedure.”[xii] As the process becomes more refined it may indeed evoke a certain pride of ownership for such technicians over new human beings, and even contempt for the natural way of transmitting life.? After all, many of them believe they can control the process better than the old fashioned way.? In other words, procreation is cavalierly separated from the union of husband and wife; and would likely take on proprietary control by technicians.? (Thus my title: “In Vitro Breeding”) This is clearly an involved path to pregnancy requiring repeated appointments to IVF clinics – and lots of money.? ?Of these efforts ten to fifteen percent of IVF’s succeed.? The average cost is $12,400 for one cycle. ?(In a way the poor are protected, because it is simply impossible for them to meet the huge expenses.)

Such procedures are rife with problems (such as ectopic pregnancy).? The most egregious is that the women become “multiply pregnant” with anywhere from two to ten embryos.? Some doctors will not implant more than four or five.? About 75% of triplets are the result of fertility drugs or in-vitro fertilization; 90% of quadruplets are conceived the same way.[xiii] Why put so many embryos in the woman?? Because of the odds:? optimal results come from multiple implants — particularly with older women.? ?There is tremendous pressure from the “parents” to implant numerous embryos in the hope for success.? “…a 1987 study in the United States’ largest IVF center in Norfolk, Virginia, concluded that only five percent of 4,500 embryos survived to birth.” [xiv] What happened to the others?? You see the difficulty.? The problem now arises as to what to do??? So many babies -what to do???

[ii] LSN, ibid, 9/9/05

[iii] Life Site News, 11/22/02, government statistic for 1999

[iv] LSN, 5/8/03; study by David Hoffman, Fertility & Sterility, Vol. 79, Issue 5, 5/03

[v] Life Site News, 5/8/03

[vi] Google.com search:? The Concise Colombia Dictionary of Quotations; also Scholar Island

[vii] New Oxford Review, Oct. 2007, pg. 24; from an article by Jim Coop

[viii] Geoffrey Sher, Virginia Marriage Davis & Jean Stoess,authors of: “In Vitro Fertilization: The Art of Making Babies”

[ix] Donum Vitae, Roman Catholic Church instruction; 1987, pg 34, #8; by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benefict XVI

[x] Sources for this information may be found on a multitude of Internet sites, and a pamphlet from American Life League; also Brian Clowes excellent book, “The Facts of Life”

[xi] Donum Vitae, Roman Catholic Church, 1987, No. 1, pg. 5

[xii] Donum Vitae, ibid, No. 5, pg. 30

[xiii] Statistics from Wall Street Journal, 11/21/97, comprehensive article by Barbara Carton

[xiv] Brian Clowes, ibid; page 234