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The hour of the Ascension

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira


"HE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN AND IS SEATED AT THE RIGHT HAND OF THE FATHER" 


Upon entering Jerusalem, we recall that here rested Our Lord Jesus Christ in a close sepulcher, penetrated by neither air nor light, His Sacred Body disfigured by wounds. Wrapped in the Holy Shroud, Our Lord lies in utter darkness, reduced to isolated inertia and death. In the seeming hopelessness of the sepulcher, the triumph of the synagogue appears complete.

After two days, a ray of light penetrates the darkness, and then another, and yet another, as the angels manifested their presence. The heavy stone that guards the sepulcher cannot keep these pure spirits from entering. The angelic choir gathers and fills the empty silence with heaven’s songs.

 

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Suddenly, the sacred body stirs, as Our Lord raises Himself from the slab on which He lies and from death itself. He had been in limbo, where He consoled the just with the Good News that the hour of their redemption was at hand. We may well imagine their joy and adoration as they welcomed their Redeemer!

As His Divine soul reanimates His mortal body, each wound shines with the sun’s brilliance. Christ’s crown of thorns is now a crown of light. Our Lord commands the stone to depart, and the sun streams in, dispelling the tomb’s darkness as the Son vanquishes the despair of death in His eternal triumph.


Where is Jesus?

Someone approaches. She is running. It is Mary Magdalen, and she is still weeping. Finding the sepulcher open with its stone rolled away and not a Roman guard in sight, she does not know what to think.   

Seeing a man whom she mistakes for a gardener, she asks, “Where is Jesus?” He answers with a single word: “Mary.” The scales fall from her eyes, and she responds,

“Rabboni!” which means “Master.” However, Our Lord, whose glorious body can move faster than any rocket, is no longer there. He is in the Cenacle, where Mary Most Holy has retired to weep for her Son in the semi-darkness. Suddenly, Christ enters radiantly. She is not mistaken as Mary Magdalen was for she is His mother after all.

Let us recall Jesus’ last gaze at His Mother from the Cross’ infinite height. She is the last person He sees before He closes His eyes in death. It is a look of love that the world has never known— the love of God for His Holy Mother. Imagine then the first glance exchanged between Mother and Son after the Resurrection, as the deepest sadness becomes the greatest joy! In an instant, He returns to Mary Magdalen, for glorified, He is no longer limited to time and space.

 

The Hour of Ascension 

He appears here and there, speaking first with this disciple, then with that disciple. Only at the Final Judgment will we know all those to whom Christ spoke, giving courage and counsel, as He prepared His Church for the battles to come.

The hour of Ascension is at hand. Jesus walks to the Mount of Olives accompanied by His mother and the Apostles. Theirs is not a simple farewell. They hang on each word of His teaching with rapt attention. If Our Lord’s Transfiguration on Mount Tabor had left the Apostles awestruck, we can imagine how He must appear at the moment of His Ascension. As Jesus speaks, His body gradually begins to rise. He knows that He is rising to Heaven, but it is so natural, so proper and so normal for Him to ascend that at first, His Apostles might see it as simply another example of His glorification. However, at a certain moment, He is so high that they realize, “He is leaving us now!” And thus, the Risen Lord ascends into the glory of Heaven.

 

 


 

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DAILY QUOTE for October 21, 2017

O sinner, be not discouraged, but have recourse to Mary in a...

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October 21

 

O sinner, be not discouraged,
but have recourse to Mary in all your necessities.
Call her to your assistance, for such is the divine Will
that she should help in every kind of necessity.

St. Basil the Great


Defend Our Children  NO to Impure Holloween Costumes!

SAINT OF THE DAY

St. Hilarion

For years he only ate fifteen figs a day, and for an occupat...

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St. Hilarion

Hilarion was born of pagan parents in the village of Tabatha, south of Gaza. He was converted to Christianity in Alexandria and baptized at fifteen.

Visiting St. Anthony of the Desert, he lived with him for two months, but finding the desert hermit’s cave only a little less populated than the city, because of the continuous flow of people seeking the saint’s help and guidance, he retired into the desert of Majuma, in Palestine.

For years he only ate fifteen figs a day, and for an occupation, he tilled the earth and made baskets. His first abode was a small hut woven of reeds. Later, he made himself a cell, one so small that it was more like a tomb. As the years passed, he found he needed more nourishment than figs alone provided and included a few vegetables and bread in his diet.

In 356 he was informed by revelation of the death of St. Anthony. He was sixty-five and was so afflicted by the number of people who crowded to him that he resolved to leave Palestine. From then on, he became a pilgrim of solitude, seeking to be left alone with God. But though silent, his miracles spoke loudly and people sought him out in whatever wilderness he fled to.

Finally, after trying several remote places, including Sicily, Hilarion wished to go into a country where not even his language was understood. And so his friend, St. Heyschius, took him to Dalmatia. But again miracles defeated the saint’s intent of living alone. Fleeing to Cyprus, his popularity followed him there, so traveling inland a dozen miles and climbing to an inaccessible but pleasant place, he at last found peace and quiet.

After a few years in this spot, he died at the age of eighty. Among those who visited him in his last illness, was St. Epiphanius, Bishop of Salamis, who later wrote of him to St. Jerome. He was buried near Paphos, but St. Hesychius secretly removed his body to Hilarion’s old home of Majuma.

WEEKLY STORY

A Rosary, A Coal Truck and a Mysterious Driver

Young Mary, who writes this story, tells us her family was g...

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A Rosary, A Coal Truck and a Mysterious Driver

It was a cold, wintry night in Ohio when homes used coal for fuel. 

One home had only enough to make it till dawn.

Young Mary, who writes this story, tells us her family was going through hard times as her Dad had lost his job.

As she sat around the kitchen table with her parents, there was talk that she and her eight siblings might have to go to the Children’s Home on the morrow.

They could only hope the relief truck would come in the morning. But there was no guarantee.

It was then they decided to say a Rosary.

As they finished, there was the rumble of a motor in the lane. The coal truck!

Mary’s Dad ran out to help unload. Back in, he remarked: “Funny, I've never seen that man, and he didn't give me a paper to sign or anything.”

That night they slept warm, and worriless. But next morning there was the coal truck again.

Mary's Mom informed the driver, a cousin, that they had a delivery the night before.

The cousin chuckled: “Mine is the only relief truck in the area…If you got a load last night, St. Joseph must have brought it!”

Mary’s family never knew who the delivery man was… It didn't help that they never got a bill.

Based on a story in 101 Stories of the Rosary  by Sister Patricia Proctor, OSC

Click here for your free Rosary Guide Booklet

 

Young Mary, who writes this story, tells us her family was going through hard times as her Dad had lost his job.

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